《Beers and Beards》


 Book 1 - Prologue

    <h4>Book 1 - Prologue</h4>


    ¡°Pete, dish ta¡¯ table four!¡±


    ¡°Got it!¡± I took the te, heaped tall with steaming goat meat and roasted root vegetables, and walked into the pub. I tucked my beard into my belt to keep it from dipping into the food and looked for table four. My destination was a single customer in a well-lit corner, but first I had to navigate the zoo. It was time for the dinner rush, and the pub was full to the brim with excited dwarves of every shape and size and even a few adventurous gnomes. I dodged some tables as they exploded withughter and merriment and waved down a few invitations to join in.


    ¡°Here¡¯s your food! Braised goat with roasted vegetables and mashed erdroot!¡± I presented the meal with a flourish to the dwarf seated at the table before me. He wore a set of rather conservative chainmail barding, with the barest hint of silver ornamentation. His beard was long and scruffy, a dark brown mixed with ck, and his hair was cut short to fit beneath an armoured cap. It was a sight I¡¯d grown used to over the past year.


    ¡°Thank ye! Barck¡¯s Beard, this looks amazin¡¯! An adventurin¡¯ buddy wouldn¡¯t stop talkin¡¯ about this ce, so I had to try it meself!¡± He rubbed his palms together with glee and stuffed a napkin down his gorget. His stained and calloused hands spoke of abourer, likely fresh from the mines and hankering to try some food from the city¡¯s most notorious and popr new establishment.


    ¡°d you could make it! Can I get you anythin¡¯ else?¡±


    He took a big bite of tender two-day braised goat and grunted with pleasure. Juice dribbled into his beard and he wiped it away with a leather vambrace. ¡°This is amazin¡¯!!¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Aye, it¡¯s one of our specialties.¡±


    ¡°Not fer long! With food this good everyone¡¯ll start copyin¡¯ ya soon enough.¡± He took another enormous bite and sighed with pleasure.


    ¡°Imitation is the sincerest form of ttery. Everyone in town will know who made it first, and that¡¯s what matters.¡±


    He was silent for a moment, then began in a hoarse whisper. ¡°I heard¡ª¡± he licked his lips, ¡°I heard from an Adventurer that came by the mine that you lot have a <i>New Brew</i>.¡±


    This was another sight I¡¯d grown ustomed to. I leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°Aye, we do. A few actually, would ya like to try one?¡±


    ¡°Aye! But in a in mug! Don¡¯t want to call attention to meself!¡± He looked around nervously.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ya worry, everyone in this pub loves our ales. In fact, they can <i>beerly</i> live without them!¡± I waggled my enormously shaggy eyebrows.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Never mind. One aleing right up.¡±


    He stopped me as I turned to go. ¡°Do folk ever get upset about all this? Tha¡¯ new beers I mean?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, but I¡¯m not concerned. This isn¡¯t just a game ¨C we¡¯re serious about improving the brew. Besides, not even <i>death </i>could stop me from brewing.¡±


    Weughed together, but theughter didn¡¯t quite reach my eyes.


    After all, it wasn¡¯t a lie ¨C even if I was a human on earth when I died.

 Chapter 1: Trouble is brewing

    <h4>Chapter 1: Trouble is brewing</h4>


    Grapes


    I lived in grapes and I¡¯ll die in grapes.


    ¡°Dad¡± A tender voice called from my bedside. ¡°You can¡¯t be buried in grapes, that¡¯s just weird.¡±


    I looked over to where Samantha, my little daughter, now a young woman freshly graduated from college held my hand. Her brown eyes peered at me withughter in them, but I could see the tears welling up behind them. She leaned over and adjusted my pillow, her hair brushing up against my cheek. She always used to smell like the wildflowers of our home in the Okanagan, but all I could smell now was the acrid scent of the hospital.


    ¡°If people want to Wine about it, let them.¡± I croaked, and then coughed as the act of speaking irritated the tubes in my throat. ¡°Where¡¯s your Mother?¡±


    ¡°Mom is talking to the head Nurse. Do you want me to tell her you¡¯re awake?¡± Samantha asked, turning to the door. I shook my head *no* and looked out the window beside my bed. It was a beautiful sunny day outside, and I could hear some geese making noise out on thewn. I always hated the vicious buggers when they were crapping all over my vineyard, but their muttered honking was a nostalgic sound. A few clouds dotted the sky, and a slight breeze ruffled the reddening maple trees outside the window.


    Indeed, it was a good day to die. Well, I mean it was a terrible day to DIE, but it was a good DAY to die. Terminal brain cancer in yourte 40s sucks. I barely got to watch my kid graduate and now the metaphorical rug gets pulled out from under me. It happened so fast. I was out picking grapes one day under the hot sun when I had a dizzy spell and copsed. Thest few weeks were a blur of doctors, tests, tears, and making final ns. Thepany will be going to my vice-president for a tidy sum, Samantha gets the car and my darling redheaded wife gets everything else. Including the crushing pain of suddenly losing her husband after 20 years of marriage. Sorry dear.


    We had nned to retire and go cruise shipping in our 50s.


    Iid my head down and closed my eyes, reminiscing.


    First was Mead. A fun thing to pass the time while studying business in college that rapidly turned into a side business. The girl I met at a frosh party, Caroline, sprawled on a nket in a cherry sundress with a slight flush from an Earl Grey Mead, her lips pulled back in a honeyed smile.


    Then came Beer. Trying different kinds of fruits and ying percentages with hops. Bitters and sours and ales. I chose a name, and Caroline drew our logo, a goofy bucktoothed moose for Beavermoose Brewery. I still have the originals stashed in the attic at home. Caroline quit art school and started working for me full time. We were married in the spring.


    I wish that beeping would stop¡­ I¡¯m so tired¡­


    Then came Whiskey. The shrieking sound the still made as it exploded was nothingpared to the screech of a very pregnant Caroline when she found out. I had to promise to stop; our future child would need a father. Samantha was born in November: 3 kg and a full head of hair. She was the light of our lives, and the end of our sleep.


    Then came Champagne. The moment we made it big, when our Beavermoose IPA gotuded on live TV by a major leaguer. Some influencers started reviewing it, and suddenly¡­ we were big. I bought an apiary from a retiree, and we converted the barn to a microbrewery. We continued to sell beer and a few kinds of mead. I had staff and a baby and bills, God so many bills¡­. Why when I¡¯m dying am I sitting here thinking about bills? Must be the geese¡­. The wholepany celebrated the night we shipped our first full t to the liquor stores. Caroline and I popped some bubbly and that got me thinking¡­


    It''s getting a bit hard to breathe. Where¡¯s Caroline with the nurse? Why is Sammy yelling?


    Then came Wine. I tilled the field alongside the apiary and nted some grapes. Our little slice of paradise in the Okanagan Valley was perfect for growing them, and I had the opportunity to go visit a lot of neighborhood vineyards to get some ideas. Our first few bottles weren¡¯t going to win any awards, but the beer and the mead kept the money flowing. Soon 15 years had passed and I had one of the biggest wineries in the valley. The Beavermoose logo still sat over the old barn, but the new storage shed filled with casks of fine wine proudly proimed ¡°Veritas Vinum Vineyard¡±.


    I wasn¡¯t¡­ joking about the bury me in grapes bit.. Sammy? Are you there?


    It was our truth¡­. I hope¡­.


    Carol are¡­.


    Sammy?


    ¡­


    ---


    ¡°Doc!¡± A gruff voice called next to my ear. ¡°E¡¯s wakin¡¯ up!¡±


    My eyes peeked blearily open, and a splitting headache immediately snapped them back shut. Gawd! I know brain cancer hurts, but that felt more like my sinuses were being ripped out! The acrid scent of the hospital had¡­ changed. It smelled quite strongly of sulfur. The sound of the geese was reced with the sound of¡­. hammers? What was going on?


    ¡°Firmament damned fool, what was ¡®e thinkin, stickin his head into a freschie?¡± another voice on the other side of the bed grumbled in a gruff ¡­ Scottish ent? That wasn¡¯t right.


    I groaned as a wide calloused hand was ced on my head and a soothing feeling spread from it.


    ¡°It was touch and go there for a while, but it looks like the aetherstone did the trick.¡± Said a slightly higher pitched and more cultured voice. ¡°He should be fine after a bit of rest.¡±


    ¡°Thank ye Doctor,¡± Said the second voice. ¡°We¡¯ll add yer bill to his indenture, and see that yer paid from the mine¡¯s ounts.¡±


    ¡°Of course Grim. Send a runner to Bastion if he gets worse. I¡¯ve done all I can and a Healer would be the next step.¡±


    ¡°That bad?¡±


    ¡°I lost him for a moment there. If he¡¯s awake then the worst of it should be gone. He¡¯s either got the Blessing of Barck or the luck of fools.¡± The sound of a door opening and closing was followed by footsteps, before a wide hand pulled roughly at my beard.


    I don¡¯t have a beard. Sammy made me shave it when she was four because she hated the scratching. How long had I been unconscious?


    ¡°Wake up sleepy ¡®ead! You won¡¯t want me to call Healer Bastion. It¡¯ll add years to your indenture. Doc Opal was bad enough! Oy, Pete!¡±


    Well, Pete was my name, so rise and shine. I slowly opened my eyes to peek at the two men sitting beside me. What struck me first was the beards. Each of them had a MASSIVE beard; real lumberjack and then some. They each had a wide nose peeking out above equally big moustaches. The one named Grim had a bristly straight edge moustache, but the other guy had a handlebar that practically reached his eyebrows.


    Seriously, this was some epic facial hair, and I don¡¯t use the word epic lightly. Then it struck me: both of them were wearing what looked like padded leather armour. What the hell?


    I sat bolt upright and looked around, the motion giving me a new stab of pain in the sinuses. We were in what looked like a carved stone room. The walls were te and the floor looked like it was made of worked blue stone with patterns carved into it. The ceiling overhead was the same te as the wall and had a metalntern hanging over my bed with a glowing light in it. Where was the window? Where was Sammy?


    ¡°You OK Pete?¡± Asked handlebar, leaning closer. ¡°You should know better than ta stick your head in a freschie. There¡¯s a bonus for findin¡¯ a vein, but ya really shoulda let tha Whisperer check the air first! Yer lucky the sulfur didn¡¯t kill ya! The whole cave was full of it!¡±


    Wow, those were certainly words. At least my head was starting to hurt a bit less. There was something about these guys that was stirring something in the back of my mind. Something about my name¡­ Peter¡­ Peter.. Jackson! The director of Lord of the Rings! Oh my God! These guys looked JUST like dwarves! They were short and squat, and one even had a helmet on! Was this a cosy convention or something!


    That was when I saw the mirror and the short, squat, brown bearded dwarf that peered back at me from the bed with bleary ck eyes.


    I may have passed out again.


    ---


    Grim sighed as Balin helped Pete spoon some porridge into his mouth. He had almost run to fetch the Healer before Balin stopped him. Pete had been breathing fine and just seemed to have fainted from exhaustion. He eventually woke up again, but seemed listless and confused, muttering about ¡°Samee¡± and ¡°Karul¡±. Nobody in the chain gang had those names. Perhaps some people from his past?


    As the foreman for the ¡°Dwarven City of Minnova Prison Mine¡± Grim''s job was not the most morous but it paid well, and he had even gotten his first Blessing! Most of the indentured prisoners were paying off bills from fights in the city, or were vagrants who had arrived from out of town without a copper to their name. A few months to years in the prison mine would see them leave with a small purse, some skills, and if they were lucky a Blessing of their own. Some were back the next day, but most found work in the local mines.


    He could certainly understand Pete¡¯s desire to stick his head into the freshly made tunnel. When Pete¡¯s pickaxe had caused a small crack to widen into a fresh cavern, Pete had joyously called the whole crew over. An indentured prisoner who found a new vein or Firmament forbid, a gem cache, could be rich overnight. Thews were quite strict about ensuring prisoners were paid fairly for theirbour.


    Which meant there was no reason for the damn fool to stick his head in to the tunnel to check! Grim had sent a runner for the Whisperer to check the local aether for toxins, and returned to find amotion as the small crew moured around the unconscious form of Pete. He had called for Doc Opal who proimed it as Sulfur poisoning, and the rest of the day was a nightmare of paperwork. Pete was a simple vagrant, and Grim didn¡¯t really know him well, but his death would have meant a review by the board.


    Grim went to the cupboards. They had propped Pete up in Grim''s own chambers, and he wanted a stiff drink after today¡¯s debacle. Both the Whisperer and the Speaker had checked the tunnel, and found nothing but arge sulfur deposit. Sulfur had some uses, but it wasn¡¯t as though the popce of Minnova were falling all over themselves for soap! Daily baths were an elvish perversion, like that grape juice they called ¡°wine¡±.


    Grim poured himself a fine amber ale. It was a fresh batch from that new brewery, and it had quite a kick! Must be why they called it Thunderhoof Ale! After a moment¡¯s thought he poured some for Pete and Balin too. They had all had a rough day, and Pete would be all the worse after Doc Opal¡¯s bill got added to his indenture. He passedrge iron tankards studded with fine oak wood and filled with soft foam to Pete and Balin before giving a toast.


    ¡°To Minnova, the Firmament, and the luck of fools!¡± He and Balin bellowed, as Pete simply clinked sses with them. Grim downed it and reveled in the fresh nutty vour. Balin¡¯s eyes twinkled beneath his bushy brows as the alcohol hit him.


    Pete spat out the beer in a spray across the both of them, soaking their beards, and yelled in a deep baritone, ¡°WHAT THE HELL!?¡±.


    ---


    I could barely follow what was happening. I was a dwarf? I was an indentured prisoner? In Minnova? Where the hell is that, eastern Europe?


    At least my name was still Pete. I could barely process it as handlebar, I mean Balin, fed me some basic gruel. Don¡¯t fantasy dwarves eat rats? Is this rat porridge? Am I being racist right now, or is that speciest?


    The dwarf named Grim passed us each a massive tankard of what looked like an amber. He and Balin made some kind of toast to dirt and then pulled. That¡¯s right, dwarves are supposed to be big drinkers, and master crafters of beers and ales, aren¡¯t they? At least I could drown my sorrows in fine alcohol.


    I shot the drink back myself, before spitting it out in an atomized spray.


    ¡°WHAT THE HELL!?¡±


    Dwarves drink WATERY BEER!?

 Chapter 2: I was reincarnated as a dwarf but all the beer is bad!

    <h4>Chapter 2: I was reincarnated as a dwarf but all the beer is bad!</h4>


    Dwarfs Log, Deathdate 003


    These are the voyages of the soul of Peter Phillips. I appear to have died and been transported from my loving family and home to an underground prison hellscape of bad BO and worse beer. I am apparently in the body of a dwarf named Pete. Pete arrived in the city of Minnova about 3 months ago, where he was picked up by the local Guards after he was caught begging for beer in the streets. I took over Pete''s body a couple of days ago after I died on earth. I am working in the City of Minnova Prison Mine, where I will remain until such a time as I have paid off Pete`s indenture. I appear to be in deep shit.


    I scooped some shit up and plunked it into the cart beside me, and then avoided brushing the sweat out of my eyes. The unigoat in the stall beside me chuffed and added to my work. Yep, a real mountain of shit. After the sulfur and spit debacle I got put on punishment duty by Grim. Goods from the mine are carted down to the city by unigoats, and nobody has cleaned the manure pit in ages because¡­ dwarves. Seriously, some of this stuff has started crusting over.


    I admit to being a bit disillusioned here. I don¡¯t know what I was expecting after I died. I wasn¡¯t religious, so heaven was out. I grew up Catholic, but that wore off sometime around the fourth time I got ckout drunk in college. Hell? Purgatory? I certainly wasn¡¯t expecting a small mining town filled with boisterous and outgoing, if slightly surly, hairy alcoholics.


    And by the Firmament, the alcohol! It¡¯s ALL SO BAD, and they¡¯re drinking ALL THE TIME!


    Wake up? Take a drink.


    Break? Take a drink.


    Lunch? Take a drink.


    Go to jail? Take a drink.


    Almost die? You guessed it! Take a drink!


    They all love the stuff, and seem to have zero actual tolerance for alcohol. I¡¯d put their beers at around 1% alcohol content, and I haven¡¯t seen anything that appears to be a harder drink. As far as I can tell some dwarf invented beer ages ago, and they all fell so in love with the stuff that they never bothered improving it. There¡¯s some clear thought put into adding vour, with things added into the mash, but apparently it¡¯s hard to get ingredients when you¡¯re underground.


    ¡°How ya¡¯ doin Pete?¡± A voice interrupted my reverie from the other side of the stables.


    ¡°Hi Balin, I¡¯m doing a bit better.¡± I replied, taking the opportunity to get out from the pit.


    ¡° ¡¯Ave yer memoriese back?¡± Balin asked, as he took a step back. His handlebar moustache quivering at the stench from the manure pit.


    Another pair of dwarves, Annie and Wreck walked by, pushing a massive cart filled with ore. There¡¯s a total of 20 dwarves here in the mine. 16 prisoners and the warden Grim, along with Doc Opal, Speaker John, and Whisperer Gemma. Doc Opal was the one who saved me from Sulfur poisoning, and she¡¯s also the one helping take care of my ¡°amnesia¡±, or as she calls it ¡°damage to the spirit¡±.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± I replied to Balin as I washed my hands in a trough.


    ¡°Nothin¡¯ in yer status page?¡± Balin kept his distance as I washed up, his eyes tracking Annie. Last night he had confided to me in a drunken stupor that Annie has ¡°the finest beard this side of the Crack¡± whatever that means. It is a really nice beard though, long and silky with finely woven tresses and a dali moustache. She¡¯s also one of the few blonde dwarves here; everyone is mostly brte with Doc Opal and Whisperer John having white hair.


    ¡°Nope¡± I replied as I opened my ¡­ status page ¡­ by intoning ¡°status¡± in my head. A slightly translucent blue box appeared in my vision with a cheery ¡°ding¡±.


    Status: Provided by the Firmament


    Name: Peter Phillips Samson


    Age: 48 ???????? Conditions: None


    Race: Dwarf


    Blessings: None


    Titles: None


    Milestones: Outworlder


    Strength 12


    Vitality 12


    Agility 10


    Dexterity 11


    Wisdom 12


    Intelligence 10


    Perception 13


    Charisma 8


    My stats are pretty normal, as 10 appears to be the average for a young dwarf, which I am. A bare 48 years old, just like old Pete! I honestly felt my intelligence should be higher since I had been through college, but I was essentially a brand new being here. I focused on ''Outworlder'' and another little blue box popped up.


    Outworlder: Your spirit has found a new spark! Your mental statistics have been reced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain blessings and milestones!


    I fell into step alongside Balin as we began walking towards the mess hall. He was still wearing the same leather armour that all the miners wore, including me. It wasfy and helped protect against the sharp edges of stone in the mining tunnels. Oh, and it helped against monster attacks, because of course those exist.


    A couple more dwarves walked past in the other direction, likely headed to the mining tunnels based on the pickaxes in their hands. They nodded to us as they passed, the manacles on their arms twinkling in the light. While we were technically underground, the ¡®roof¡¯ was actually a couple hundred meters above us. Strings of lights lined the streets here, and a luminescent moss on the roof gave the impression of a starry night thatsted the whole day. The effect was pretty amazing, and I often spent the evening looking at the ¡°stars¡± after everyone else had passed out from drinking.


    The cavern we were in was massive, and several other mining outposts could be spotted in the distance, lights in the dark. Each mining outpost was a small collection of buildings, with the actual mining tunnels snaking beneath them. We were on a fairly sizeable hill, and the city of Minnova could be seen to the south in the centre of the cavern. An enormous purple crystal hanging above the walls of the city filled the entire cavern with a soft glow. It was too far to make out any details but the city seemed fairly medieval, with stone buildings and arge pce at the centre.


    ¡°Run it by me again Balin, what do these numbers mean? It says I have a 12 in vitality.¡±


    ¡°By Midna Pete, ¡®ow much did ya ferget? A youngster has about a 10 in each stat, and each point is just a bit stronger than thest.¡± Balin was always willing to give a hand, and was only a slightly sappy drunk.


    ¡°So, if I got my stats up to 100 I could smash stone with my bare fist?¡± That sounded pretty cool!


    ¡°Nah, yer limits ¡®bout a 20 in any stat. Ye¡¯ll need blessins and milestones ta go higher, and even then it wont be by much.¡± Balin took a deep sniff as we went through the door into the mess hall.


    So I¡¯m around average physically, with good wisdom and perception, and shit charisma from being an ¡®Outworlder¡¯. I wouldn¡¯t have called myself uncharismatic back on earth, or especially smart, so maybe it has to do with how Ipare to everyone else in this new world? Or maybe it¡¯s the dad jokes. I can admit that I have been making a TON of social faux pas since I got here.


    ¡°You said that Grim and Opal have Blessings right? That makes them one of the Blessed?¡± It was lunch time, which meant dry sandwiches with a slice of lettuce, goat cheese, and chicken breast. It was pretty tasty, and prisoners seemed to be treated really well here. Balin nodded and grabbed a te of food from a stoney-eyed ck-bearded dwarf handing out food.


    ¡°Thankee Bran, looks delicious as always. Aye, Grim¡¯s Blessed by Lunara for all his ¡®ard work as warden, and Doc Opal¡¯s twice Blessed by Archis and Lunara. That makes ¡®er a Titled doctor!¡±


    The Firmament¡­. Apparently, Gods are real here, and they each embody a pair of the fundamentals of reality and civilization. I can¡¯t keep them all straight yet, but I do know Barck, the god of spark and innovation and Tiara the goddess of matter and possessions. Barck gets called on a lot because his blessing is luck, and Tiara because we live in a mine and everyone wants to strike it rich and end their indenture early. Get two blessings and you get a Title. I¡¯m not too sure on how all that works and it isn¡¯t really important right now. It¡¯s not important because¡­


    ¡°Cheers, you rascals!¡± Grim shouted from the head table. ¡°We managed to exceed quota today! Great work Annie and Wreck for bringing in an entire extra cart of ore!¡± Grim pointed to Annie and another Dwarf with a long stringy reddish-brown beard that reached her feet. ¡°And a special congrattions to Annie for receiving a blessing from Barck!¡± The crowd erupted into cheers and foam as dwarves clinked sses. Annie stood up to the apuse, her ruddy cheeks blushing as she took the iron helmet off her head.


    ¡°Thank you everyone!¡± She shouted in a surprisingly sweet alto as the apuse died down. ¡°I noticed that the minecart wheels kept seizing up from the dust when we spent a lot of time in the tunnels, so I designed a new grease using sap from the vines in the dungeon. It worked, and Barck gave me his blessing!¡± There was a fresh round of cheering and clinking of sses. I tapped on Balin¡¯s shoulder as people went up to congratte Annie. He was staring wistfully at Annie and turned a distracted eye back towards me.


    ¡°What dungeon?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s tha main reason that Minnova is built ¡®ere. There¡¯s a nt dungeon down below the city. It¡¯s the main source of our veggies. Killer Cabbages an¡¯ Peashooters, an'' others. Theres an ¡®ole lotta gold to be made der.¡±


    ¡°Killer Cabbages?¡± I asked, looking at the leafy greens on my sandwich.


    ¡°Aye, they¡¯re full ¡®a Mana and good fer the body! Tasty too!¡± Balin grinned as he took a big bite from his sandwich before chugging down some of his ¡®beer¡¯. I started in on my food as well. I¡¯d almost prefer water to this swill, but apparently nobody down here drinks water. It¡¯s all beer and sometimes goat¡¯s milk, though that¡¯s apparently for kids. Of both kinds.


    They¡¯ve got pale ales andgers, but no stouts, no IPAs, no sours. My tankard is currently full of slightly tger. It¡¯spletely the wrong ss for this kind of beer. Ager should at the very least be served in a shaker ss, which is wide at the mouth and narrow at the base. This tankard was simply the giant deuce on top of the shit sandwich that was this beer. By my beard, I¡¯m having a shitty day.


    ---


    Doctor Opal Sifsdotter made her way through the mess hall, her te heaped high with some meat and vegetables along with arge hunk of bread and a cream puff she couldn¡¯t wait to bite into. Her white doctor¡¯s uniform could be a bit of a pain when the beer was flying like tonight. While she was paid a retainer to stay here at the prison camp, she actually served arge number of mines in the area. There were about 10 mines within a short unigoat ride, and there wasn¡¯t a single day that went by without her being called in for some kind of illness, injury, or mishap. She wasn¡¯t quite as good as a Healer for injuries, but her milestones made it easier for her to diagnose problems with the body. Those were plentiful down here in the mines; take Peter for example. Opal looked around the room and spotted him sitting dejectedly next to Balin.


    A simple case of sulfur poisoning, and all it took was an aether stone and some knowhow to get him back on his feet. Sure, a Healer could have fixed it with mana straight out, but that required at least two decades study in magic before even getting started on the study of the dwarven body. She made her way over and sat down next to Pete, who was nursing his beer.


    ¡°How is the memory doing Peter?¡± She asked, nodding at Balin and smiling at Pete.


    ¡°No better I¡¯m afraid,¡± Peter smiled back. He really was very handsome, with a well-groomed Garibaldi beard and an Asterix moustache. Quite her type, but she wasn¡¯t interested in bad boys or vagrants. ¡°I can¡¯t seem to remember much of anything, but I¡¯m learning again really quick. Balin¡¯s been a great help.¡± Balin, hearing his name looked at them before turning back to watch Annie getting hoisted into the air by Wreck to a chant of *Chug!* *Chug!* *Chug!*


    ¡°It¡¯s a rather fascinating case. Your heart stopped for about 5 seconds, but that shouldn¡¯t have been enough to damage your spirit. You¡¯re sure you have no conditions?¡±


    ¡°My status says none.¡± Peter sighed.


    ¡°Amnesia is a fully recognized condition, so I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m stumped. I¡¯m not an expert in spirit, so you¡¯ll probably need to go and see a titled Hypnotist to see if they can jog your memory.¡± Peter looked like he was about to ask something and then stopped, his attention arrested.


    ¡°Is¡­¡­ is that a cream puff?¡± He stammered. ¡°With cream and everything? Is it sweet?¡±


    ¡°Yes? I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t share. The staff gets slightly different meals. If you want some dessert, you¡¯ll need to do something extra like Annie over there, or work hard and end your indenture. By the way, I¡¯m sorry about my fees, they¡¯re set by the city.¡± Opal shrugged apologetically.


    ¡°No, I mean, do dwarves¡­¡± Peter paused, ¡°I mean, does the Mine have sugar? Can I have some?¡±


    ¡°Some of the sap from the vines in the dungeon is sweet, do you have a sweet tooth?¡± Opal wouldn¡¯t have pegged Pete for a lover ofdylike treats, but she couldn¡¯t deny any dwarf the love of sweets. She was going to need to watch her own figure, given how much the cook pampered her here. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that you¡¯ll need to do something special before Bran allows you any of his confections.¡±


    ¡°If I have sugar, I can try and fix this awful beer!¡± Peter jumped up and shouted, drawing several glowers from the people sitting around them. Balin growled.


    ¡°Pete, I told ya not to be insultin¡¯ the most holy o¡¯ brews o¡¯ the Dwarves!¡± Balin hissed. Peter sat back down, his face reddening as he muttered about ¡®a measly 8¡¯. Opal shook her head. While amnesia was one thing, a sudden dislike for the perfection that was beer was another thing altogether. Opal made some more small-talk with Balin and Peter before heading to her quarters. She nned to finish her cream puff in peace along with the second one that Bran had given her to hide in her hood. She really needed to watch her figure...


    ---


    Sugar! They have sugar! How is their beer so shit?! Even aplete novice can make a half decent Kit and Kilo beer if they have a malt base and some sugar¡­ Moreover, if I have sugar, I can make syrup! If I have syrup, I can fix the vour of this damp disaster of a drought!


    I took another bite and tried not to reminisce about Caroline¡¯s signature BLT. Would I ever taste it again? Could I go home, or was this my new life now? A bearded life filled with awful ale¡­


    You know what, <i>no</i>. This entire situation was a crime against beer, and as a lifelong brewer I was going to take it personally. I¡¯ve been wondering why I reincarnated here, and I think I finally figured it out. It was my job, nay, my <i>duty</i> as a proud Canadian Craft Brewer to SAVE BEER! I would see a Hefeweizen behind every dwarven bar within the next decade. A Saison in the hand of every dwarven child, or my name wasn¡¯t Peter Phillips ¨C er, Samson! If they didn¡¯t like it, <i>fine ¨C </i>lots of people don¡¯t like beer<i> ¨C </i>but<i></i>at least dwarven craft beer would no longer be stuck in boozey limbo.


    First though, I had to get out of this stupid mine. I mulled over it for a while, until I was broken out of my reverie by Doc Opal¡¯s voice at my side. I looked up and gave her a wide smile. I woulde back to thister; I had a whole new life to work on it after all. At least, unless I stumbled on a way to go back to my old one.


    ¡ª


    Somewhere else.


    On the side of a cliff stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table covered by aplex game-board sat in the centre of the gazebo. The edges of the board seemed to stretch into the distance while still somehow filling a defined space. Eight ornate figurines sat upon the board ¨C a dragon, an elf, two humans, two dwarves, a gnome, and a beastkin. One of them, a white porcin dwarf holding a tankard, tentatively slid across the board.

 Chapter 3: A mop and a whistle

    <h4>Chapter 3: A mop and a whistle</h4>


    I miss my wife and daughter¡­


    It¡¯s been about a week since I reincarnated into Minnova, in the dwarven country of Crack, on the Erd. Yes, Erd, because apparently it ismon throughout the multiverse to name your after dirt. I hope that the country is called Crack because it has a crack, not because of crack, or because it smells like crack.


    Back to moping, or mopping in this case. I¡¯m almost done cleaning out the unigoat stalls. It took nearly the whole week to do it, and I think I¡¯ve managed to avoid getting anything nasty in the process. No conditions and no back strains. Must be that famous dwarven constitution, or my vitality of 12.


    ¡°Who¡¯s a good goat, Billy? You are!¡± I rubbed the neck of the unigoat beside me. These guys have really helped me get over losing my wife and daughter. I know they aren¡¯t really gone, it was actually me who died, but it¡¯s still a depressing feeling.


    That¡¯s right¡­ I died. It took a few days for that to really sink in after the whole ¡®reincarnated as a dwarf¡¯ business. Honestly, I¡¯m not really worried about my wife and daughter. Samantha already has a job lined up, and I know Carol¡¯s n was to go cruising. I can see her now, sitting on the deck of a cruise ship, in that itsy bitsy polka dot bikini I always liked to tease her about. Her luxurious French Fork beard and Imperial moustache fluttering in the breeze...


    By my beard! Now I¡¯m doing it too!! Focus Pete, this ce is getting to your head!


    ¡°Hello Peter!¡± An alto voice called out. I peeked around the wall to see Opal approaching the stables.


    ¡°Hello Doctor! Are you headed to one of the other camps?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we just had a runner arrive. There¡¯s been an attack of stoneants at Peak Brother¡¯s Mine. The miners broke into a cavern full of them. They fought them off but there are a few injured. Nothing too serious, but I¡¯ll be heading over to do some quick check-ups.¡± She hefted arge doctor¡¯s bag and a fairly heavy looking satchel.


    ¡°Stoneants?¡±


    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re dog sized ants with a grey mottled carapace. Still no improvement to your memory then?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I intoned. I went into one of the stables and brought out a longhaired off-yellow mountain goat with a single horn curling up out of its forehead. ¡°Here, Piddles has been looking feisty for a while now. He should get you there fast enough.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Peter. How has your quest for sugar been going?¡± Opal asked as I helped her saddle up the goat and pack the saddlebags. It was well known in the camp by now that I was trying to get an achievement big enough to grant me ess to some sugar.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got some ideas.¡± Which was overselling it. Grim swore he¡¯d force me to eat goat shit if I tried to mess with the minecarts again. I¡¯m a pretty good amateur chemist after two decades of beer and wine making, but mechanics were never really my strong suit. Case in point¡­.


    ¡°Did your ¡®steam engine¡¯ not work out?¡± Opal asked, looking at a sad hunk of metal in an empty stall. I¡¯d spent about three days putting it together out of scrap metal, and at this point I think it¡¯s the only thing more pathetic in this camp than the beer.


    ¡°No¡± I sighed. Sammy was always the handy one. I don¡¯t know who she got it from; probably my dad. He always wished I¡¯d be interested in putting together old cars with him, but I was more into my malts and mixes. Dad died two years ago. He never got to see his granddaughter get married. Come to think it¡­ I¡¯ll never get to walk her down the aisle. A single tear swept down my moustache and I wiped it away before Opal could notice.


    ¡°Well, good luck.¡± Opal broke me out of my reverie as she pounded down the path leading to the other camps. She narrowly avoided arge cart that was being pulled up the hill by a pair of anemic looking unigoats. The dwarf on the cart shouted in a high scratchy voice, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m driving ¡®ere!¡± as she thundered past. The cart was quite eye-catching. It was an enclosed wagon with coloured scarves and paints adorning it. It had really odd sides, with what looked like double doors. A sign on the top proimed it: ¡°Whistlemop¡¯s Wonders¡±. The dwarf looked really odd too. He was extremely short for a dwarf, and he had no beard! Sacrilege! Instead, he had a supremely well-maintained blonde walrus moustache, thick sses, and waspletely bald. He was wearing a suit instead of armour. It was a mishmash of rainbow hues and exaggerated edging. It was a crime against fashion, and it was amazing.


    ¡°What¡¯re you staring at beardie? You never seen a gnome before?¡± The gnome, because that¡¯s what he was, asked as he pulled up to the stables.


    ¡°A-Actually, I was just admiring your wonderous moustache.¡± I prevaricated. There were more than dwarves here? Were there humans too? Elves? Dragons?! The problem with being ¡®amnesic¡¯ around a bunch of alcoholics is that unless you know what questions to ask you end up with giant gaps in your knowledge base. Doc Opal mentioned a school of some type. I really need to get my hands on some books after I finish solving the beer problem.


    Suddenly, a slightly transparent blue box superimposed itself over my vision with a *ding*


    Your Charisma has increased by 1! New charisma is 9!


    ¡°By my beard!¡± I shouted. Startling the gnome. He had been twirling his moustache with pride, and he turned to me in shock.


    ¡°What is it now!¡±


    ¡°I was¡­. Just thinking about how amazing it is to have a trader here. I haven¡¯t seen one¡­ ever?¡± The gnome nodded at me with a quizzical look.


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit there¡¯s not too many traders thate out to the mines. Mostly the minerse in to Minnova!¡± The gnome chuckled. ¡°However, I¡¯m trying to earn my fifth Milestone in order to get my first Specialization. I¡¯m going to try and hit every camp and settlement around Minnova. See if that gets me anything!¡± The gnome exined excitedly, hopping off the carriage and narrowly avoiding a goatpie. He frowned at his boots and scuffed them on the side of a wagon wheel.


    ¡°Are you Titled then?¡± I asked as I handed him a rag. Once you had a Blessing you could start earning Milestones. They were small buffs for doing what you were already doing. If someone with a Title earned enough Milestones, they would get a Specialization.


    ¡°Yessir, I¡¯m a titled Peddler!¡± He nodded at me in thanks and got to buffing his boots, which were promptly muddied again. A Peddler¡­. I¡¯m still not up to snuff on all the different Titles. I know if you get a single Blessing from a God ites with two benefits. I only know 3 Blessings so far due to the people here at camp.


    Barck the God of Spark and Innovation.


    His Blessing grants a small bit of health regeneration and luck.


    Tiara the Goddess of Matter and Possessions.


    Her Blessing grants your body and possessions some durability.


    Lunara the Goddess of Order and Law.


    Her Blessing grants the ability to sense weaknesses and motives.


    If you get a second Blessing from any God you get to choose a Title based on what path you want to take. The Blessings and Titles naturally y to your strengths since you earn them for feats or deeds in that God¡¯s portfolio. Annie likes tinkering with things to increase efficiency, so naturally she got Barck¡¯s Blessing. That will help her be a better tinker, and if she ever gets a second Blessing it will likely be something rted to that.


    In short if you like working with nts, animals, healing or inventing you¡¯re likely to earn Barck¡¯s blessing and be better at what you were already doing. Same goes for all the other Gods. There¡¯s 8 total Gods and one day I¡¯ll remember them all. Especially since my Ounder Milestone apparently makes it easier for me to earn Blessings and Milestones.


    ¡°What Blessings did you need to be a Peddler?¡± I stepped back as the gnome began fiddling with the side of his carriage.


    ¡°That would be Aaron and Tiara!¡± The gnome stepped back as, with a whizzing sound, the sides of his carriage sprang open. A wide variety of goods were disyed on racks and shelves within. ¡°But where are my manners? My name is Whistlemop and Whistlemop¡¯s Wonders is open for business!!¡± He pulled a small chain on the side of his carriage and a cheery whistle like a train horn sounded out around the camp. He looked around expectedly for a moment, and then another minute. I coughed.


    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Whistlemop asked, looking confused.


    ¡°Well¡­. This is the prison camp. Nobody here really has much money. The only person who might have been interested was the dwarf that just left.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­. What a waste.¡± Whistlemop sighed, crestfallen. He looked absolutely devastated as he peered back down therge hill he had climbed up to get here.


    ¡°It¡¯s not too bad Whistle-mope, there¡¯s nearly a dozen camps around here. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find someone that appreciates your goods.¡± I mped my hand over my mouth. Damn that charisma!


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± He asked as he arched a wispy eyebrow.


    ¡°Uh, I was wondering what goods you have for sale? It¡¯s a pretty impressive collection!¡± I desperately changed the subject as I went up to the now open side of his carriage. It was indeed impressive. He had pots, pans, scissors, needles, threads, cloth; just about anything a person would need. Then there was the more esoteric stuff: gadgets and gizmos, a couple of oddly coloured stones, as well as a bunch of different hunks of vegetable matter. Whistlemop came alongside me, a bit leery as he realized I was wearing manacles around my arms.


    ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± I asked, waving over the hunks of greenery. There were vines, flowers, herbs, and some suspicious looking squashes. Did those cabbages have eyes, did one just wink at me!?


    ¡°Dungeon materials.¡± Whistlemop re-assumed his flowery peddler persona. ¡°I have some of the best goods straight out the dungeon. Fresh caught by the finest Guildsmen! I can assure you that you will not be able to get dungeon materials more cheaply or efficiently than through Whistlemop¡¯s Wonders!¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I muttered distractedly. ¡°What does all this stuff do?¡± I held up some vines and a gourd. Whistlemop leaned up to look more closely.


    ¡°Well, the yellow vines provide a rather slippery fluid. They¡¯ve been a bit more in demand recently, and I heard there¡¯s a new lubricant being made with it. That increases the price of course.¡± I nodded at that. Annie¡¯s invention seemed to have caught on at the other mining camps. ¡°The red vines are rather interesting. If you light one end on fire, a bright burning light travels along until it reaches the end of the vine. It¡¯s been quite popr with children!¡± Hey, that was neat, kind of like a sparkler! "The gourd I can''t discuss in politepany."


    ¡°Uh... Ok. What about this blue vine?¡±


    ¡°Ah, that one provides a sweet sap. It¡¯s the most expensive thing on my cart I¡¯m afraid.¡± He snatched it from my suddenly rigid fingers. This was the sweet sap vine! I needed it!


    ¡°How much is it!?¡± I nearly shouted, stepping forward.


    ¡°1 gold for a yard!¡± Whistlemop stepped back, sudden concern in his eyes and a quaver in his voice. I calmed myself and hunched my shoulders, tugging anxiously at my moustache. There was no way I could afford that.


    ¡°Do you have a sweet tooth young dwarf?¡± Whistlemop sounded almost apologetic. ¡°I understand you¡¯re at a hard time in your life, but look up, you have many years ahead of you. Work hard and you¡¯re guaranteed to earn a Blessing at some point. A few Milestones after and you¡¯ll earn enough to eat all the sweets you could desire!¡± Whistlemop reached up and patted me on the shoulder. ¡°You said there are a few camps around here right? Could you point me in their direction? I can¡¯t give you any Sweetsap Vine but I can provide some small rpense for your time.¡±


    Whistlemop and I bent over a small map that he pulled out from his jacket. I spent the next 10 minutes or so pointing out where all the camps were and the best routes to get to them. Whistlemop was a pretty nice guy, and probably had way higher than a 9 in charisma. When we were all done Whistlemop thanked me and went to his cart to rummage around. After about 2 minutes of that he shouted an expletive and whirled around, pointing at me.


    ¡°You there! What is the meaning of this!?¡±

 Chapter 4: A glass half full

    <h4>Chapter 4: A ss half full</h4>


    Two Minutes Earlier


    Whistlemop of the South Crackian Mops rummaged through his cart. The young dwarf named Pete had been very helpful, and it was only right that he receive rpense. Perhaps seeing his hard work rewarded would help put him back on the straight and narrow! Whistlemop picked up and tossed aside a small figurine of a badger. Nope, nobody liked badgers, they were vicious annoying beasts and he always regretted purchasing that case of them.


    Whistlemop paused as he activated one of his Milestones, [Rtive Value]. While he was unable to see the true price of items, he could determine when an object would be more meaningful or valuable to a customer. He always had a knack for connecting customers with just the right product, and it was nice to see the Gods agreed. He paused as his eyes alighted upon a vase in a pile of ssware off to the side. Theck of sunlight down here meant that outside of the dungeon, flowers did not exactly thrive. The main source of nts in Minnova, other than the dungeon, were various mosses and lichens and fungi, along with Erdroot. The starchy root vegetable was used to make everything from bread to beer, and while it had a musty vour it was healthy and filling. He personally preferred a fine imported tea to the beer the dwarves made out of it, but to each their own.


    What was confusing him was that [Rtive Value] was pinging, indicating that the vase held incredible value for Pete. That was when his [Sense Deals] started going off as well, meaning the vase could hold incredible value to him too.


    What on Erd was going on? Whistlemop leaned out of his cart and pointed at Pete.


    ¡°You there! What is the meaning of this!¡±


    ---


    Whistlemop stalked towards me, carrying something under his arm.


    ¡°What-what do you mean?¡± I stammered, backing up. Had I done something wrong? Don¡¯t touch my charisma score Whistle-mope, I have none to spare!


    ¡°Are you a Cultivator?¡± Whistlemop demanded.


    ¡°What, like Kung-Fu?¡± Were martial artists a thing here too?


    ¡°What in the Firmament¡¯s name is a Kungphu? No, a titled Cultivator for nts and gardens!¡±


    ¡°No¡­ I don¡¯t even have my first Blessing!¡±


    ¡°Well then,¡± Whistlemop held up a ss object, confused. ¡°Why on Erd is this vase so valuable? I can¡¯t for the life of me figure it out!¡± I took a moment and looked at it. It was round and made of clear ss, with a narrow base that tapered up to a slightly wider opening at the top. It was a pretty standard flower vase. There was nothing truly remarkable about it other than the excellent quality of the sswork. It was about 20 centimeters tall, and 6 centimeters wide.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s just.. a... vase¡­.¡± I paused, looking at it more closely. It vaguely resembled something important. What was it? Then I realized and grabbed it from Whistlemop¡¯s hands. ¡°IT¡¯S A PILSNER GLASS!¡± I shouted, staring at it in wonder.


    ¡°A what?¡± Whistlemop asked, standing on tip toes to peer up at it.


    ¡°You were sent to me by the Firmament.¡± I whispered, closing my eyes and rubbing my cheek on the smooth ss of the vase. It was a perfect pilsner ss. It would certainly hold more than a pint, but that was fine; the beer was so low in alcohol content that it didn¡¯t matter. What did matter? I finally had something proper for the beer in the mess hall. Any kind ofger made in the Plze¨¾ style is a Pilsner, and a Pilsen ss is excellent for any kind ofger.


    ¡°I need to try this right away.¡± I muttered, staring into the crystal of the ss. ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°Um, almost noon,¡± Whistlemop pulled out a small pocket watch and peered into it. There was a small painting of another gnome with pink hair on the inside of the lid. He poked me in the side as I turned to the mess hall. ¡°What is it? Isn¡¯t it just a vase?¡±


    ¡°Come with me, I¡¯m going to change the world of dwarven beer forever.¡± I grabbed Whistlemop and dragged him towards the mess hall. We met up with a few other dwarves as the rest of the mine began to wind down for lunch. Lunch was a very important meal for dwarves, because it had beer in it. A few dwarves gave me the side eye, but I noticed Annie staring at me rather intently as I pulled Whistlemop into the mess hall. I¡¯ve gained a bit of a reputation as a weirdo thest few days. Thankfully everyone has been very kind about it; they¡¯ve been giving me some grace after my ¡®near-death¡¯ experience. A line began to form behind me as I went up to Bran to receive lunch. They were indeed servingger today! As he started to pour my ration of beer into the allotted tankard, I stopped him.


    ¡°Not that Bran, I brought my own tankard today! Pour it into THIS!¡± I triumphantly held up the vase. Bran paused and looked at it, and the customary chatter of the mess hall stopped for a moment.


    Dwarves have a really niceugh. It¡¯s very full-hearted andes from the gut. Their noses get all red and their moustaches crinkle up (unless they have a Fu-Man-Chu). Which didn¡¯t help the sting as the entire mess hall burst into guffaws. My face began to redden but I resolutely held the vase, no the PILSNER GLASS, up to Bran.


    ¡°Finally decided yer¡¯ a delicate flower Pete?¡± Bran grunted between peals ofughter. Tears poured down his brushed and braided beard. He put a lot of effort into his groomingpared to the other convicts for some reason. ¡°Have ya spent too much time in tha¡¯ fertilizer this week?¡± The room erupted into fresh howls ofughter.


    ¡°Just give me the keg.¡± I growled, elbowing Bran aside and pouring myself a drink. I did so carefully, ensuring that extra air wasn¡¯t poured into the drink to interfere with the bubbles. The beer slowly filled the ss, creating a perfectly crisp head that rose as I poured. I¡¯ve been pouring beer for decades and I¡¯m pretty good at it, but getting perfect head is a science unto itself.


    When you make beer, it involves a few central steps. The first and most important is the selection of your malt. Modern beers often use abination of barleys and other cereals, but you can really use any starchy nt. Rice beer is quite popr in some parts of the world, including the United States where it is a main ingredient in their ¡®world famous¡¯ Budweiser. Your malt is heated in water, and the starches are converted into sugars.


    At this point you have wort, and it needs to be boiled for sterilization, and also to add hops for vour. I doubt the dwarves have hops, and it¡¯s more likely that they add abination of herbs. A collection of herbs used to vour beer is called Gruit, and it was used for thousands of years. You then cool the wort and pour it into a vessel with some yeast in order to cause fermentation.


    Fermentation is just a yuppie term for ¡°yeast eats sugar and makes alcohol¡± which is where the actual beeres from. The fermentation process creates carbon dioxide as a by-product, and the carbon dioxide is trapped as tiny bubbles within the beer. When you pour the beer, those bubbles rise to the surface. Proteins within the beer grab onto the bubbles and rise up with them. Those proteins act kind of like soap in a soap bubble, preventing the bubble from popping. Those bubbles gather at the top of the beer as a foamy ¡®cor¡¯ and vo! You have head!


    I stopped just as a half-inch of head reached the top of the ss. That was a small head for ager. A low alcohol content or a bad batch can cause that, and I would use dwarven beer of both of those crimes. I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding in and stepped back to appreciate my pour. The bubbles at the bottom of the ss rose slowly to the top, and the head remained perfectly steady. A pilsner ss is specially designed to ensure that the bubbles rise from the narrow bottom, and the broad rim keeps the head in ce. The tankards the dwarves used were wide and t. Bran did a pretty rough pour and any head was lost by the time we sat down to eat and drink.


    I leaned down and took a deep sniff of the ss. One of the benefits of a good head is that it captures the vours of the beer, and you can appreciate the ingredients that went into it. Thisger smells roughly of¡­ mushrooms? Something earthy anyway. A rare choice but understandable given the environment. I paused as I realized the room had gone silent.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± The dwarf behind me asked, leaning in. His brown moustache stood out in a bristle, and he had mutton chops. It was a weird choice for facial hair, but¡­ dwarves. I think his name was Tim.


    ¡°It¡¯s a head¡± I replied, guarding the ss.


    ¡°Ahead of what?¡± Tim pushed closer, watching the bubbles rise. ¡°Were you sniffin¡¯ the beer?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­. Yes¡­¡± I stepped back as a bevy of dwarves starting to gather around and stare in rapt fascination at my oversized ss. Is it a bevy? What would you call a group of dwarves? A beard? ¡°The foam on top captures the smell of the beer, and the bubbles subtly change the vour when you drink.¡±


    ¡°Can I try?¡± Tim asked reverently, reaching for the ss. His hand was pped down by Balin, who had appeared next to me.


    ¡°None a¡¯ that!¡± he shouted as I smiled appreciatively at him. ¡°He¡¯s obviously gonna let his best bud Balin have tha¡¯ first taste!¡± My smile flopped.


    ¡°Nobody is drinking it but me!¡± I shouted. ¡°But you can all try it after I get a chance!¡± There was a mour as the dwarves began to fight over who would be first. As the fists began to fly, I took another sniff of the ss and then slowly sipped it back. The bubbles exploded on my pallet, and brought with them the nutty¡­


    Rancid..


    Awful taste of the beer. Yep. It perfectly brought out the vour of theger alright, in all its terrible glory. I sighed and finished the ss off, no sense in wasting bad beer. It was going to take more than some simple ssology to fix this piss. As I washed my ss out, a line quickly formed up with Balin at the front. A few ck eyes and bloody lips were visible, and I think I saw a couple bodies being stuffed under benches. Eh, not my problem.


    My fellow dwarves took turns drinking from the vase as I poured, each copying my motions in turn. Sniff. Pause. Small sip, small sip, and chug. Their expressions were rapt, and the mood was nearly religious. It was kind of freaking me out, honestly. I love my wine and beer, but I don''t LOVE my wine and beer. I reserve that for my wife''s flowing beard.


    Dammit.


    ---


    Meanwhile, underneath a table in the mess hall, a pair of eyes glittered. A magnificent moustache twitched up in a smile at the unmistakable scent of gold.

 Chapter 5: Be mine

    <h4>Chapter 5: Be mine</h4>


    Grim sighed as he scratched his signature into another injury report form. He stretched his neck and nced at a small painting up on the wall. It was of a demure looking dwarf with pink braids in a Verdi beard, a chainmail skirt, and a pink leather jerkin. He just wanted to go home and spend some time with his wife¡­ Fights among the convicts were nothing new, but it rarely grew so vicious. There had been 8 ck eyes, 14 contusions, 2 concussions, and a broken arm. Doctor Opal had been ready to rip someone apart until Bran presented her with a slice of cheesecake and ushered her away.


    All that¡­. Over a vase¡­


    Grim turned the piece of unassuming ss over in his hand. It appearedpletely ordinary. Simr to a dozen other vases he¡¯d seen over the years. So much chaos over this. Solis would be proud.


    Ever since Pete¡¯s ident with the sulfur he had been a thorn in Grim¡¯s side. Between the minecart incident, the goat shit getting tracked into the mess hall, and now THIS! It was almost worth it for the city to simply exile him instead of dealing with his indenture. Pete''s only saving grace in this matter was that he hadn¡¯t been the direct cause of the fighting.


    It was the fault of this simple piece of ssware¡­


    Grim went up to the door of his office and locked it. He had a small cabin to himself in the prison camp, and it contained only 3 rooms. An office, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It was nothingpared to the mansion in Minnova where his wife resided, but it was a home away from home.


    Grim nced around to make sure nobody was watching and opened his beer cab. He took out a small keg ofger that had been brought in fresh on goatback this morning and popped the cork. He ced his vase on the desk and poured the beer into it, before cing his chin on the table. Grim stared deep into the depths of the amber liquid bubbling in the ss.


    ¡°Reveal to me your secrets¡­.¡± Grim intoned, before dropping a dozen flowers he¡¯d bought from the peddler into the vase.


    ************************************************************


    "We dig with shovel, pick, and axe!


    We dig up as the Grim one asks!


    We dug up mithril what a score!


    Adamantium, and there''s more!"


    ¡°Fer tha Firmament¡¯s sake, would ya¡¯ stop that awful racket!¡± A crotchety voice shouted behind me.


    I paused in the middle of a ''Heigh-Ho'', my pickaxe raised up in the air; I hadn¡¯t realized I was singing aloud. I smiled sheepishly at Tim, whose bristly moustache was twitching in irritation. He grumbled and turned back to his own work. I dusted some gravel out of my beard and went back to digging.


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    I was woken up this morning by Grim, who confiscated my pilsner ss and sent me out to go mining. I think he wants me out of the camp while he tries to figure out what to do with the ss. I really hope I get it back, as it¡¯s the only real reminder of home that I have right now. Whistlemop disappeared some time after the second brawl, and he wasn¡¯t there in the morning. I hope he didn¡¯t get dragged into a ditch somewhere. His wagon was gone, so I assumed he traveled on to the next camp.


    It was pitch ck in the tunnels, and my only light was from a cage on top of my helmet. It held a small stone that gave off a warm light. I was told it was a solstone, a type of stone that contains some essence of chaos. Whatever the heck that means. I¡¯m beginning to think Balin isn¡¯t the best teacher. I nced up at him as his slightly shaky arm swung a pickaxe down onto his foot. A couple of hungover cursester and he was back to swinging his pick, with a bit more care this time. His handlebar moustache was practically droopy, and he kept bumping into Annie.


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    Balin was the winner ofst night¡¯s drinkingpetition. That was before the evening devolved into more fighting. First, there were the ¡®purists¡¯, who believed that beer should be drunk from a tankard as the ancestors intended. Then there were the ¡®vasists¡¯ who believed that my pilsner ss was a gift from the Firmament brought to them by a lucky fool. The vasists won the fist-fight, but I¡¯m not sure how I feel about that as the fool in their dogma.


    We were currently in the tunnels beneath the mining camp and I was finally off of prison doody! I feel like a real dwarf now! A team of dwarves going out on a mining expedition is called a dive, and my current dive team consisted of Tim, Balin, and Annie.


    The tunnels are kind of neat. The mine is a single shaft, about 4 meters tall by 4 meters wide, that extends for hundreds of meters diagonally into the Erd. That main shaft always has a couple of dwarves digging it deeper as minecarts are pushed along tracks hammered into the stone. Speaker John walks along the shaft and is able to ¡®speak¡¯ to the stone in order to find out where the metal is. Once we know where to dig, a team of dwarves grabs some pickaxes and dives down off the main shaft.


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    The physicalbour really helps to clear the mind. Last night I finally bonded with my fellow dwarves. We sang awful drinking songs, drank awful beer, and then had an awful night as I held Balin¡¯s hair back while he threw up into Tim¡¯s helmet. I hope he washed it¡­ All told it was a lot of fun! It reminded me of frosh parties when I was back in college, or some of the benders we used to have at Beavermoose brewery. I almost got drunk myself, but I just couldn¡¯t stomach enough of thatger to really get buzzed. Plus, people kept stealing my ss.


    Dwarven society is really alien to human Pete. Thews are all quite egalitarian as far as I can tell, and everyone follows a strict code of honour. Crime is nearly non-existent and most of my fellow convicts are vagrants ormitted petty ¡®crimes¡¯ like begging for beer. Dwarves don¡¯t really hold grudges or hate people for very long. You have a big fight, knock each other out, and then get shit-faced together until morning. It¡¯s hard to stay angry at someone when you spent half the evening holding onto each other while singing ¡°Bawdy Blonde Beard¡±. Speaking of which, dwarves are actually excellent singers. Whodathunk?


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*


    Annie edged away from Balin and came up to me while I worked. ¡°I¡¯ve got a good collection of ore here, Pete.¡± She murmured. Her eyes looking down at her blonde beard. She was quite a different dwarf when sober. Last night I had seen Wreck stop her from power-bombing another dwarf that had decked Balin. ¡°Can you help me carry it up? I don¡¯t think Balin or Tim are really capable right now.¡± I nced at Balin, who was currently banging the handle of his pickaxe onto the rock wall and Tim, who had a suspicious fluid dripping out of his helmet and down his back.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re right about that.¡± I eded, and started filling sacks with ore. Tin ore is heavy, and it¡¯s a lot of hard work pulling it up the dive shaft. I filled two sacks and started hauling, Annie following close behind.


    ¡°Did you know Balin before you came to the prison?¡± Annie asked betweenboured breaths.


    ¡°No, I was a vagrant before. Honestly, I still don¡¯t remember much from before the ident. Watch your head here.¡± I ducked down as the dive tunnel became shoulder height. That¡¯s about 1 meter, or 3 feet in freedom units.


    ¡°You got along pretty well even before your ident.¡± Annie paused, grunting as she lugged her bags through the tight tunnel.


    ¡°We were both vagrants, and I think he feels sorry for me.¡±


    ¡°Well, he tried to stop you from going in to that freschie, but you brushed him off. I think he feels guilty that he didn¡¯t just thump you in your fool head.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± We both stopped as we shared a gaspingugh. Sweat was pouring down my face and onto my Garibaldi beard. It was getting pretty dirty, and I was looking forward to giving it a wash and wax back at camp. Dwarves care a lot about their beards, and the camp has a pretty nice beardysalon.


    ¡°So, Annie,¡± I asked, as we resumed our ascension. ¡°How did you end up in the ¡®City of Minnova Prison Mine¡¯? You don¡¯t strike me as a wandering vagrant, or ayabout for that matter.¡± She was silent for a moment, and the only sound was our footsteps echoing in the dark tunnel.


    ¡°I was experimenting with a new kind of beer vessel at my father¡¯s brewery.¡± She started, haltingly. ¡°I was always bothered that so much of the fizz in our beer is lost, and I wanted to see if a properly sealed and pressurized vessel would help. I made some small-scale models and they worked fine, so I had some full-sized versions custom made. ¡± By my beard! She was a fellow beer snob! I¡¯ve always wondered why I was reborn here; maybe the Firmament sent me to her! Now wasn¡¯t the time for celebration though, as Annie was clearly in pain.


    ¡°Did something go wrong?¡±


    ¡°The pressure inside therger tanks was higher than I ounted for.¡± She paused, her voice cracking. ¡°One of the vessels blew on the brewery floor. Three workers were injured and the st damaged my father¡¯s brewery and the shop next door.¡±


    ¡°Dear Firmament¡­¡±


    ¡°A Judge found me guilty of negligence, and I was sentenced to work in the mine to pay for the damage to the city streets. My father was required to pay the merchant next door as well the injured workers. I left the city the next day, and I don¡¯t even know if my father was able to keep the brewery.¡± I was pretty certain she was crying, and I really regretted asking. I covertly nced back to see her wiping her eyes with her beard.


    ¡°What will you do?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hoping that I can end my indenture early. Now that I have a Blessing, I¡¯ll get a Title and make something to turn my family¡¯s fortune around. It was my honour, not my father¡¯s, that was tarnished. I need to make things right!¡± She resumed moving forward, steel in her eyes. I could see why Balin liked her. She was smart, strong-hearted, and honourable. A perfect specimen of dwarf. The silky blonde beard helped too,


    We walked inpanionable silence for a while. When we could hear the sound of minecarts echoing down the dive tunnel, Annie stopped. ¡°Pete, I¡¯m sorry about dumping all of that on you. I actually had a reason that I asked you toe with me.¡± She set down her bags and walked up to me in the dark, the light on her helmet nearly blinding me as she looked into my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re really a nice guy. Nobody else seems to have noticed, they all think you¡¯re a fool.¡± Hey, I resemble that remark!


    ¡°Uh, where are you going with this?¡± I asked, stepping back slightly. Was this what I thought it was?


    Annie leaned in closer, whispering now. ¡°I just didn¡¯t have the courage, but afterst night I decided to go for it.¡± What happenedst night!? My mind whirred, trying to recall. ¡°I know that you¡¯re just the right dwarf!¡± Her voice was growing firmer.


    No, Annie! I¡¯m a married dwarf! Besides, my best dwarf is in love with you!


    ¡°Peter, would you-¡±


    Waaaait!!!!

 Chapter 6: A dwarven handshake

    <h4>Chapter 6: A dwarven handshake</h4>


    Moments before.


    ---


    Annie struggled in mind and body as she pulled the bag of tin ore up the pitch-ck dive tunnel. Her conversation with Pete had brought back some bad memories, and she was a bit embarrassed by her tears. Her father had never med her for the ident, and only told her that no matter what came to pass, he would always love her. Their family had owned that brewery for generations, the recipe for their beer faithfully followed since the First Brew. The fact that they might lose it simply because one unfilial descendant had decided to tweak the brewing process would be seen by purists as divine retribution.


    Punishment from the ancestors for daring to try and improve upon perfection.


    They were wrong! Annie knew it in her bones, and in her heart. Beer could be improved! There was no such thing as something that waspletely perfect. Perfection was always in the eyes of the beholder when it came to art, and there was no arguing that beer was an art! The other dwarves at the brewery all imed she was odd, to think that beer could be better.


    She nced up at Pete and narrowed her eyes. There was another odd dwarf. He said the wrong things, acted the wrong way, and yet with a single vase he hadpletely upended the dogma of a dozen dwarves. Pete¡¯s ¡®pilsner ss¡¯ was a revolution in beer drinking technology. She still wasn¡¯t sure if it was simply his ¡®luck of the fool¡¯ though. He hadn¡¯t made the vase, or even designed it, he had simply found it and decided to use it as a ss. The question was¡­ why?


    Thoughts of the beer ss brought her mind back tost night, and her cheeks reddened. The image of Balin, his handlebar moustache coated in foam, and a look of ecstasy upon his face was etched in her mind. He had a lovely singing voice, and was kind and personable. He may be a vagrant, but in her conversations with him she had learned that he was simply searching for a ce to call home. His n had perished in a monster stampede, and he was now looking for a ce to settle down. He had been begging for food in Minnova when the Guards picked him up and dropped him in the prison mine. Balin was a hard worker, and apparently an aplished carpenter. There was a lot of wood in Minnova due to the dungeon, and Balin hoped to use his prison stipend to buy some tools and get work around the city.


    After she had fought to protect his honourst night, Annie had realized something.


    She had fallen in love with that bristle bearded lug. With his jollyugh and bright emerald eyes.


    So, she found herself getting ready to ask his best friend for help courting. She wasn¡¯t sure they actually were best friends, but they were practically connected at the hip. If she knew one thing, it was that no dwarf courtship could survive without eptance from the n, and right now Pete was the closest thing that Balin had to one.


    She cleared her throat as they approached the main tunnel. She had prevaricated enough. It was time for action. ¡°Pete, I¡¯m sorry about dumping all of that on you. I actually had a reason that I asked you toe with me.¡±


    Annie set down her bags and walked up to Pete, looking him in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re really a nice guy. Nobody else seems to have noticed, they all think you¡¯re a fool.¡± Yes, he would surely help her!


    ¡°Uh, where are you going with this?¡± Pete asked, pulling back slightly from the re of her solstone.


    Annie leaned in closer, whispering. She didn¡¯t want anyone else to overhear. ¡°I just didn¡¯t have the courage, but afterst night I decided to go for it.¡± Annie rushed her next few words, her courage failing. ¡°I know that you¡¯re just the right dwarf!¡± Indeed, if it was Pete, Balin would trust him to stand in for a n member! She was barely able to keep from shouting the rest. ¡°Peter, would you allow me to me court Balin?¡±


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t!¡± Pete said nearly simultaneously, as he held his hands up.


    ¡°What?¡± Annie asked, shocked.


    ¡°What?¡± Pete replied, looking confused.


    Annie couldn¡¯t believe it! Why would Pete immediately reject her for Balin? She was under no illusions about herself. She was quite average looking for a dwarf. Her beard was never able to get that full fluff that was the current style, and she was just a little too tall and her nose slightly crooked. However, she took care in her grooming, was smart, Blessed, and came from a good n. She never would have imagined such immediate and vocal rejection. Why?!


    ---


    ¡°Peter, would you allow me to court Balin?¡±


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t!¡± I replied, desperate. I really didn¡¯t want to get mixed up in romance right now. I was still getting over losing my family, and I just wasn¡¯t ready for a new rtionship.


    ¡°What?¡± Annie asked, her face falling.


    ¡°What?¡± I replied. What did she just say?


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand!¡± Annie huffed. ¡°Why not? You should tell me at least that much!¡±


    ¡°Wait, go back a moment. Did you say you want to court Balin?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and you denied it!¡± Annie ced her hands on her hips. She stepped forward aggressively, her blonde beard shoving against my chest. I just realized how tall Annie is. ¡°On what grounds!¡±


    ¡°No grounds, no grounds, I thought you said something else!¡± I was an idiot! What was I thinking? I was a brain-addled fool with a charisma of 9! Why on Erd would someone confess to me?


    ¡°So...¡± Annie looked confused. ¡°What did you think I said?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± I quickly changed the subject. ¡°So, Balin eh? Is it the moustache? It¡¯s the moustache, right?¡±


    ¡°Among other things.¡± Annie actually blushed! Balin, you lucky dog!


    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t leave it at that. Tell me what you like about my Balin and then we will decide if you¡¯re worthy.¡± I said thatst bit in my best big bad dad impression, a stern look upon my face. Heh, ¡®my Balin¡¯, as if I owned him. Why was she involving me with this? I hadn¡¯t even done this ¡®dad with a shotgun¡¯ routine on Sammy¡¯s first boyfriend. I raised her well and respected her decisions.


    Then the floodgates broke. Annie stammered about Balin¡¯s beard, his kindness, his wit, and his prowess in a fight. Then she got more determined as she talked about his talent, and his possible ce in her father¡¯s brewery as a barrel maker. Then she began to describe in clear detail the wonder of his strong dwarfly pecs.


    ¡°Hooooold it!¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± She asked, pausing in her breathy description of ¡®corded muscle that shines like mithril¡¯.


    ¡°Yes...¡± I stopped to think for a moment. This was actually a really good opportunity if I yed my cards right. As far as I could tell, Annie was from a well-established family in Minnova. Not to mention the fact that her father owned a brewery. Ok, possibly owned a brewery. It was still the first real chance I had to get into the beer breweries of Minnova, and I wanted in! I knew from experience that getting established is as much luck as perseverance, and I wasn¡¯t going to waste this opportunity. Especially when it provided itself on a blonde-bearded tter! ¡°I¡¯m willing to help you court Balin¡­. Under one condition.¡±


    ¡°What condition?¡± Annie asked, her voice growing businesslike. ¡°I swear on my honour that I will fulfill any reasonable request.¡±


    ¡°I want a rmendation to your father¡¯s brewery when we all get out of here.¡± I said firmly. ¡°For Balin and I. You said you want him to work there? Well, I want to work there too.¡±


    ¡°Why? You haven¡¯t exactly hidden your dislike for beer¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my dislike for the current brew. There¡¯s a lot of room for improvement, and I want to help. I think you¡¯re on the right track with the pressure vessel, and I may have some ideas there.¡±


    ¡°You¡­¡± Annie paused, her face twisting into strange expression. ¡°Were you a brewer? I thought you forgot everything.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ remember some things.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lie; I remembered most things too. ¡°What I do remember is that I love beer, but not this beer.¡±


    ¡°The two brews are all there are¡­ all there have been since Mordag brewed the First Brew.¡± Annie said, confused. ¡°Some tinker, but never change.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve seen others.¡± I said, my eyes gleaming. ¡°My tongue has beheld the tart of sours and the creams of stout.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy!¡± Annie said, stepping back.


    ¡°Crazy for beer! Are you in or not?¡± Annie stopped and thought for a long moment. She ran her fingers through her beard and nced down at me a few times before finallying to a decision. ¡°Fine, but I reserve the right to fire you for foolishness.¡±


    ¡°I get a minimum of two months and at least a single full brew.¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡± Annie spat in her hand, grabbed her beard and held it up to me. E, what? She watched me expectantly and I realized she was waiting for me. Do I have to?


    I spat in my hand and grasped my beard. Annie grabbed my hand in hers and said in a reverent tone, ¡°Our Beards Are Joined Our Words Are One.¡±


    ¡°Our Beards Are Joined Our Words Are One.¡± I repeated along, feeling the spit squelch between our fingers. Yuck. She let go of my hand and I surreptitiously wiped the spit off on my pants.


    ¡°What now?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Can you bring Balin to the knoll behind the camp tonight after dinner?¡±


    ¡°I can do that.¡±


    ¡°I n to tell him my desire to court him, as well as the benefits I can bring. Could you please discuss it with him afterwards?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll give it some serious thought.¡± I smirked, thinking about the longing looks he¡¯d sent her way. Balin was going to freak!


    The two of us nodded at each other, and walked into the main tunnel. A grumble of dwarves was pushing a cart up the tunnel and we chucked our bags inside. The trio grunted at the added weight and then resumed their trek upwards.


    ¡°Want to grab a sandwich?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°Absolutely.¡±


    We followed behind the cart, ascending upwards to an eternally starry sky. My future looked bright.

 Chapter 7: The Firmament (1)

    <h4>Chapter 7: The Firmament (1)</h4>


    It¡¯s been a couple of days since Balin and Annie got together. Balin nearly fainted when Annie talked to him, and I think the only thing that kept him from keeling over was my hand propping him up. He pped his mouth a few times and I pulled him away before he could go all in without consideration first.


    Apparently, that was part of my ¡®job¡¯ as a stand in for Balin¡¯s n.


    He and I chatted about Annie¡¯s proposal, alongside the deal I had arranged with her. His eyes grew a bit wide at that, and he congratted me on the good deal. Apparently, he was looking for carpentry work in Minnova before he was tossed into the prison mine. He never imagined he would get a romantic rtionship AND a job out of his stay.


    Balin went back and talked to Annie, and now the whole mine knows they¡¯re a thing. I was surprised to learn just how well-liked Annie and Balin are in the camp. I¡¯ve been so focused on my own predicament that I hadn¡¯t really spent much time paying attention to other things. Balin has one of those outgoing personalities that does so well in an organized environment. Like the popr kid at school or that one guy in the office. You know the one, who makes stupid jokes that for some reason everybodyughs at, and he always seems to cross certain social boundaries but never gets in trouble? Yeah, fuck that guy. Balin was like that but cool.


    Which brings me to my current predicament.


    ¡°From the top Peter.¡±


    ¡°My name is Peter Samson. I¡¯m 48 years old.¡±


    ¡°Where are you from?¡±


    The Okanagan, Canada, British Columbia, the year 2022. Instead, I replied, ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°Where are you now?¡±


    ¡°The city of Minnova Prison Mine camp, in the country of Crack.¡±


    ¡°What year is it?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­.. I forgot.¡± Damnit Balin, did we not even go over the year?


    ¡°What day is it?¡± That¡¯s an easy one!


    ¡°Yearday.¡± I smiled, like a child finding the correct answer on a test.


    Doc Opal sighed as she removed her sses and massaged the bridge of her nose. Her beard style was a bit different from the other dwarves, it¡¯s close cropped and her moustache is faintly pointy. It¡¯s also shock white, which I¡¯m guessing is an effect of age. We were currently seated at a table in the mess hall. The rest of the dwarves were all out working, and I was currently being tutored by Doc Opal. There were no medical emergencies right now, and she had decided to put some serious effort into my ¡®re-education¡¯. Apparently, word hade down from administration that since this ¡®Peter¡¯ troublemaker had been injured while on the job, he needed to be properly taught at the prison¡¯s expense. There weren¡¯t any titled Hypnotists in the city, so it fell on Doc Opal.


    We started on the basics, like numbers, letters, times and days of the week. I can¡¯t believe Balin and I never covered those, but I had more important concerns at the time, like beer. Each day is 32 hours, and each hour is 64 minutes and each minute is 64 seconds. Most things in Erd seem to be based off of the Gods, of which there are 8. So 8 days of the week, each named after a god ¨¤ thorsday, a base 16 numbering system, an alphabet with 32 letters, et-cetera. This was where I discovered that I¡¯m not speaking English. The dwarven runic alphabet is NOTHING like our letter system, and it gave me a moment of cognitive dissonance as I realized I was reading the runes, but wasn¡¯t really READING them. It was more like I could understand the meaning in my head without actuallyprehending each letter. That¡¯s when I realized I was doing the same with speech. I wonder if it¡¯s a side effect of my ¡®Outworlder¡¯ milestone. Speaking of milestones, my stats changed a bit after the past few days. My charisma went up to 10 after my first few lessons with Opal. I guess thebination of my deal with Annie and my lessons have paid off! I¡¯m finally an averagely charismatic dwarf, which isn¡¯t saying much.


    ¡°What can you tell me about the Fundamental Elements.¡± Doc Opal continued, leafing through some papers.


    ¡°Like water, earth, fire, and air?¡± I asked, confused. Did they have those here too?


    ¡°What? No, why on Erd would fire or water be an element? I mean the Fundamental elements of creation.¡±


    ¡°Sooo atoms?¡±


    ¡°Adams?¡± Opal shifted through her notes. ¡°We don¡¯t have an Adam in the camp. Is that someone from your past?¡±


    ¡°No, never mind. What are the elements?¡± I sighed inwardly. Avatar Aang had done me so wrong.


    ¡°They are Matter, Aether, Magic, and Nether.¡±


    ¡°They are Matter, Aether, Magic, and ma-mag-magic?!¡± I gaped. Wait, magic is real here?! How have I not noticed or heard that yet!


    ¡°And Nether.¡± Opal frowned. Screwhers! Well, I mean, yes that¡¯s what they¡¯re for, but also screwher! I want to hear more about magic!


    Opal ced her hand over her heart in what I was beginning to recognize was a religious gesture and recited a verse.


    ¡°Tiara of Matter is all that has form,


    Aaron of Aether the heart of the storm.


    Archis of Magic is all that¡¯s unseen,


    And Yearn of Nether is all in between.¡±


    We then spent a bit of time going over what are called the ¡°Fundamental Elements¡± because they¡¯re the Elemental Gods of the Firmament. They represent all the ¡®stuff¡¯ that makes the universe actually exist. I already knew Tiara, but for the sake of my teacher I¡¯ll try and keep them all straight here.


    Tiara as Goddess of Matter and Possessions is the God of everything physical. Rock, stone, metal, if you can touch it, it¡¯s matter. Her blessings give your body and everything you carry [Strength of All].


    Aaron is the God of Aether and Exchange, which is anything you can feel but not ¡®touch¡¯. That¡¯s air, water, fire, all gasses, smoke, I could go on. His Blessing grants you [Move in Aether], for a slow fall or glide, or faster swimming. It also gives the ability to [Sense Deals] apparently. That must make shopping fun.


    Yearn is the Goddess of Nether and Rtionships which I¡¯m a bit fuzzy on, and who sounds sketch as hell. Apparently, she¡¯s everything that is but isn¡¯t as well as nothingness? I''m thinking that the fundamental forces like gravity, atomic attraction, mas and so on might fit the bill. I assume particles still exist, but Doc Opal doesn¡¯t know what I¡¯m talking about when I try to discuss it. Rtionships are a kind of concrete form of attraction that have no real form so I guess that makes sense. Her blessings give [Stealth] and [Sense Emotions].


    Finally there''s Archis, the God of Magic (omg magic), and Knowledge. His blessings give [Sense Mana] and [Sense Secrets]. I like both of those, so I¡¯m aiming for his blessing. You apparently NEED his blessing to be able to use magic effectively. Doc Opal gave me a very technical exnation of magic that I understood none of. I did nod along while imagining shooting fireballs and lighting bolts though.


    ¡°So how would I go about getting a blessing, Doctor?¡± Especially Archis''s!


    ¡°Well, there are several different ways to do that, but they all have the same basic idea. Thank you, Bran.¡± Opal smiled at Bran as he walked over and presented her with an amazing piece of cake. It was some kind of white fluffy thing with whipped cream on it, and it looked sooo delicious and moist. I¡¯ve been obsessing over beer since I got here, but that¡¯s because alcohol was my life for so long. While the prison food has been healthy and filling, I¡¯m still a modern man. I want my junk food dammit. I wonder if pretzels or peanuts exist here? I could totally make beer and pretzels a thing. ¡°The first thing you need to do is gain the attention of a God.¡±


    ¡°Gain a God¡¯s attention?¡± I asked, my eyes focused on her fork as she began to gently carve into the slice of cake.


    ¡°Yes, schrs are divided on the best way to do that.¡± Opal said, her eyes closed as she moaned slightly around a mouthful. Damn, Opal! You¡¯re really selling that cake! ¡°Some say it¡¯s by luck, others by hard work, others by ingenuity. One thing that everyone can agree on is that you mustplete some great work within the God¡¯s portfolio. Make sure you get a blessing you want though, since you can only have two!¡±


    ¡°Is that why a lot of miners get Tiara¡¯s blessing?¡±


    ¡°Yes, spend a lot of time diligently working with rock and stone and you¡¯ll earn Tiara¡¯s blessing. Simrly, sailors often get Aaron¡¯s blessings, students gain Archis¡¯s, and great lovers and friends gain Yearn¡¯s.¡±


    Interesting. Not as interesting as the cake that Doc Opal is slowly devouring, but interesting nheless. So, if I want to gain Archis¡¯s blessing I need to go to school, or discover some kind of lost knowledge or something. Could my knowledge as someone from another universe count? I wonder if that¡¯s why I can earn cupcakes ¨C I mean cakes- I mean pies -dammit, Blessings, more easily.


    ¡°How important are Blessings?¡± I asked, as Opal started thumbing crumbs off the te into her mouth. I could practically taste the cream, and I wiped a bit of drool off my moustache.


    ¡°Very important. Most careers won¡¯t ept you without at least one. They¡¯re seen as a rite of passage to adulthood in society. We can live up to 500 years after all. If you can¡¯t earn a Blessing in all that time, what have you been doing?¡± I guess that makes sense. If a Blessing is a clear way of indicating a person¡¯s hard work, then you¡¯d definitely need one for any kind of advancement. I guess it¡¯s kind of like a college degree from Earth. Wait.


    ¡°500 YEARS!?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Opal said, her eyes widening as I caught her licking the te clean. She blushed and coughed as she put the te down. ¡°Barring disease or a monster attack, the average dwarf will live to be 500 years old. Some greybeards are 700 or older. I¡¯m 398 years old myself.¡±


    500 years! I was only 48... that meant¡­ carry the 1¡­ 452 years?!


    I was going to live 452 years, at the AVERAGE!?


    ¡°How long do humans live?¡± I had to know, was this normal?


    ¡°An odd question. Humans live to be around 120 years old, though they are more likely to fall to disease. They are also more numerous. Elves live to be around 1000. Gnomes are about the same as dwarves. Beastkin live around 80 years. Only the dragons are infinite.¡± Hey cool, there are dragons! Also beastkin, humans, gnomes, and elves.


    All this talk about death made me think back to my own. I think I¡¯m getting over the loss of my family. My wife and I were married for over 20 years, and in all that time we had our ups and downs. It was especially hard when Samantha was born. We barely had any time for ¡®us¡¯ in between the business and the baby. We¡¯d go a whole week with barely a word other than ¡®your turn¡¯. This whole ¡®reincarnated as a dwarf¡¯ thing is so unreal that I think I¡¯ve emotionally de-coupled fairly easily. This is a new world, and I¡¯m a new dwarf. I¡¯m going to need to forge new rtionships, and that will likely include a new family. Balin¡¯s my family for now, and Annie will be soon, I guess. Speaking of which, in all the fiction stories I¡¯ve read, there should have been a hot elf babe by now. One with a pencil moustache and goatee¡­


    Dammit.


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about the Fundamentals of Life, next¡± Opal said, nodding to Bran as he came to collect the te. She smiled sweetly at him, and brushed a few crumbs from her beard. ¡°Delicious as always Bran.¡±


    ¡°Thank you doctor, I tried something new with the batter.¡± Bran¡¯s eyes crinkled at thepliment.


    ¡°Well, whatever you did, the cake was especially fluffy today.¡±


    The two shared apanionable silence over the empty te for a moment. I coughed. Now that I know a bit more about Dwarves, I¡¯ve started to realize the incredible number of romantic entanglements in this camp. It¡¯s like I died and reincarnated into an episode of ¡°Dwarves of Our Lives¡±. Bran walked back to the kitchen and Opal turned to me.


    ¡°Where was I? The Fundamentals of Life - ¡± Opal was interrupted as a grumble of dwarves made their way into the mess hall. They clinked and ttered as they deposited their equipment, and a cloud of dust was given off as they grabbed sandwiches and beers. Opal frowned. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this outside. Come join me for a walk.¡± She stood up and made to leave. I followed her, nodding to a few of the dwarves as we passed by. They nodded back, and I even got a few smiles; indeed, a 10 charisma is where it¡¯s at. I didn¡¯t see Balin or Annie, and guessed they must still be in the mine, on a dive perhaps. I¡¯ll see them at dinner, I guess.


    ¡°Where are we headed?¡± I asked as we walked down the road.


    ¡°Over there.¡± Opal pointed to a small ridge just outside of the camp. ¡°We¡¯re going to finish talking about the Fundaments, but I want to show you the city too, and more importantly, the Dungeon...

 Chapter 8: The Firmament (2)

    <h4>Chapter 8: The Firmament (2)</h4>


    I walked with Doc Opal up the rise and looked down over the cavern. We were located fairly high and close to the outer edge, and behind us I could see the side of the cavern reaching up into the ¡®sky¡¯ above us. Great pirs dotted thendscape here and there and a faint purple glow emanated from the centre of the cavern where the city stood. In all of my time here in the camp I¡¯d never really had a moment to just¡­ stand and stare, and I did so now. I think I really love my new home here. It¡¯s¡­ beautiful in a way that¡¯s hard to describe. Imagine the milky way, the kind you see on a moonless night in the wilderness, but just a bare few hundred meters above you. Faint spores filled the air as well, slightly sparkling. The effect was magical.


    Doc Opal let me marvel for a while before catching my attention and pointing down towards the city. I could make out dozens if not hundreds of carriages making their way in and out of the main gates. We were too far away to make out any real details, but it was certainly bustling!


    ¡°That there is the city of Minnova, we are one of many cities in the caverns of Crack. Our poption is only matched by the capital city of Kinshasa.¡±


    ¡°Soo, I¡¯ve been wondering what that means. Why Crack?¡± I turned a distracted ear her way, my eyes still taking in the wonders of the cavern stretching out below us. Were those some giant mushrooms off to the right of the city walls?


    ¡°The Great Crack is a massive rent in the continent of Illovia. It was formed Aeons ago by a war between the first race, the Dragons, and the Gods.¡±


    ¡°A war? With the Gods? How did that work?¡± I was paying full attention now.


    ¡°Poorly.¡± Opal said with a grimace.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°In their arrogance, the dragons were smote down from the sky. Their descent to Erd created the Great Crack. Dragons are now mere shadows of their former selves; their children are masters of magic, but nothing like they once were. They are a long-lived race, but none from that time still exist.¡±


    We sat in silence for a moment, as I looked down on the beauty of the ce. A few structures set seemingly at random in the cavern below denoted the location of other small settlements and mining camps. I could barely make out a few wagons traveling between them. I wonder what happened to Whistlemop?


    ¡°What about that shadowy ce? Is it beyond our borders? I must never go there?¡± I pointed to the mushrooms I had spotted earlier. There was a massive grove of them, and I could see some actual trees poking out as well. I could see a lot of people on the outer edge of the grove, but the area gave off a fairly forbidding feeling. It also sloped downwards, like it was going deeper into the Erd. The trees looked to be¡­¡­ yew maybe? They had that middling tall but broad look that I would associate with a yew or monkeypod.


    ¡°Where? No.¡± Opalughed. ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to show you. It¡¯s the breadbasket of Minnova, Green Tree Dungeon.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that mentioned before. What¡¯s a dungeon?¡±


    ¡°They are ces of strong Mana that the Gods used as lynchpins to create the world. All of the Fundamental Elements are strong there, as are the Fundamentals of Life. What we call monsters are amalgamations of life and the elements that are born spontaneously in those ces. People are drawn to dungeons for riches, for Blessings, for Milestones, and to keep the monster poptions down.¡±


    ¡°You mentioned that before, what are the Fundamentals of Life? Are they Gods too?¡± I continued to watch the ¡®dungeon¡¯. Was it anything like a fantasy dungeon, with bosses and mazes and whatnot?


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Opal answered, before she recited another verse.


    ¡° Solen of light brings all chaos to bear


    Lunara of night brings the order we share


    Midna of spirit gives thought to our whims,


    Barck gives us spark to grant life to our limbs.¡±


    While she spoke, there was amotion down near the dungeon. I swear it was my imagination but I think I heard... roaring? It was really hard to see clearly from this far away though.


    In short, Solen was chaos, which was also light and Lunara was order which was dark. I argued with Opal about that for a bit. It offended my fantasy sensibilities that the God of Chaos was also the God of Light and Freedom, and the Goddess of Order and Night was also the Goddess of Law. I figured chaos and dark are bad, andw and order are good, so order should be light. It can¡¯t be a good fantasy pantheon without a good ol¡¯ God of light-smiting right? Opal disagreed.


    ¡°Chaos is not inherently evil, although pure chaos can be seen as such. If any God has a portfolio that could be described as ¡®evil¡¯ it would be Yearn of Nether, though she is also Yearn of Love.¡±


    ¡°So why is Chaos light and Order dark then?¡±


    ¡°It is because light is the culmination of freedom. Nothing can truly contain light, and it goes where it wills. Darkness is the still water of creation, an ever-present thing that fills our lives without thinking about it. Law is much the same.¡±


    ¡°I never thought about it that way.¡± I nced back at the dungeon. Was that¡­. mushroom the size of an elephant moving? I think it was! ¡°Ahhhh!!!¡± I shouted.


    ¡°What?!¡± Opal whirled to peer in the direction I was looking.


    ¡°There¡¯s a giant mushroom thing!¡± As I watched, the mushroom waded into the small crowd outside the dungeon. I could see tiny figures being tossed like ragdolls. Then there was a sh of light and a *Boom* that we could hear all the way to where we were. An enormous fireball lit up the side of the mushroom and it reared back, smoking (omg, magic). There was another sh of light and the top half of the mushroom fell off, bisected by something. The mushroom continued to struggle, but it was quickly swarmed over by little dots.


    ¡°A mushfolk.¡± Said Opal. ¡°A big one. They are one of the primary monsters on the outer edge of Green Tree. You can¡¯t see it from here, but the dungeon goes deep into the ground. There¡¯s an entirely different world down there, with enough Aether to formkes and a sky.¡±


    ¡°Are there lots of monsters like that?¡± I shivered. That thing had to have weighed several tons.


    ¡°Not really, no. Most mushfolk are quite small, and are mostly dangerous inrge groups. The real danger is when you get deeper into the dungeon. That¡¯s when some of the more vicious creatures begin to appear.¡±


    ¡°Like killer cabbages and peashooters?¡±


    ¡°Among others. I¡¯m d to see Balin wasn¡¯tpletely remiss in your education.¡± In the distance, smoke was rising from the fallen Mushfolk, and it had little dots swarming over it. Opal frowned. ¡°Large mushfolk like that are rare. They¡¯re a defensive response when adventurers have taken too many materials from the dungeon. I suspect the council will limit expeditions for a while.¡±¡±


    ¡°Is that bad?¡±


    ¡°We get most of our fruits and vegetables from the dungeon. We may need to start importing goods from the humannds or other dungeons, and Titled Porters are expensive.¡± She noticed my mouth opening and cut me off. ¡°A Porter is a Title that grants the ability to carryrge numbers of goods without them spoiling.¡±


    ¡°So, what do the Blessings of Solen and Lunara give?¡± I asked, bringing us back to our original conversation. There didn¡¯t seem to be much left to see down by the dungeon.


    ¡°Solen¡¯s blessing grants [Dark Sight] and [Sense Danger] - ¡±


    ¡°Wait, I though Solen was light, why does he let you see through darkness.¡± I interrupted. Opal tutted.


    ¡°He grants your eyes an inner light, now stop interrupting and listen.¡±


    ¡°Yes mom.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your mother Peter, I refuse to believe you are that addled. Where was I¡­ Lunara¡¯s blessing grants [Sense Weakness] and [Sense Motive].¡±


    ¡°Those sound neat. Now how about Midna and Barck?¡±


    ¡°I have Barck¡¯s blessing myself.¡± Opal smiled. ¡°I received it after several years of apprenticeship to another Doctor. Barck is the God of life and living things. The grass, the harvest, your body, that mushfolk. All of them contain the ¡®Spark¡¯. He is also the God of innovation, because to live is to grow and change. His Blessings grant [Regeneration] and [Good Luck].¡±


    ¡°So he¡¯s the one responsible for food and technology?¡± Atst! Someone to me for the shitty beer! That¡¯s right Barck, you heard me! I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s sphemy, as the God of Innovation you should be ashamed! For a brief moment, in my mind¡¯s eye I could see an old dwarf with a straw hat bend his head in shame as Opal continued.


    ¡°Sort of. You see, after the Gods made everything in Erd they stopped creating new things; they let us mortals shape the world.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡±


    ¡°Erd was a gift to us, the children of creation. The Gods gave us many gifts; from life, to thought, to Blessings and Titles. However, the Gods say that the most important gift they ever gave us was choice. Whenever you receive a Blessing, you always have a choice to receive it or not, and whenever you receive a Milestone, Specialization, or Title there are always a few choices.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ Barck didn¡¯t invent apple pie, but he made apples and people made it into pie?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s about right.¡± Opal agreed. Ok Barck, maybe you¡¯re off the hook. Looks like it¡¯s the dwarves¡¯ hidebound traditionalism that¡¯s limiting their beer technology. Down below us, bits and pieces of the mushfolk were being taken away, and there was what looked like a brightly coloured processioning from the city. I pointed at it.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    Opal peered down. ¡°It looks like the Lord of Minnova hase to see the event. Likely to determine if there¡¯s a need to lock down the dungeon for a while.¡±


    We talked a bit about the Lord, and I was unsurprised to learn that Dwarves have a feudal society with a King and everything. However, it¡¯s a bitplicated since there¡¯s an actual GOD ofw. A lot of the abuses that cropped up back on Earth simply don¡¯t happen here. A truly corrupt noble will never be able to hold onto a Blessing of Law, and will be unable topete with a lord that can. Additionally, there are titled Pdins whose whole gig is to find those that abuse thew and smite them with holy darkness (yay, smiting!). I can only imagine a dwarf with a whip, in goth leather with ck eye shadow and spiky te mail, spanking someone while shouting ¡®Repent Harder!¡¯. Heh. We watched the procession approach the group by the mushfolk and then there was a general milling about. I turned back to Opal.


    ¡°You mentioned Midna?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s the goddess of spirit. Spirit moves the spark.¡±


    ¡°So, is that something like minds and thought?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Many animals have spirit, as do all the mortal races. Few nts do, and fewer beings of matter or aether.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, beings of matter?¡±


    ¡°Yes, such as golems or summons (omg, magic). ¡± Now there¡¯s some sweet fantasy! I wonder if I¡¯ll be able to summon when I learn magic? Because I¡¯m learning it, magic. If I get to choose, then I¡¯m turning all the Gods down until I get Archis¡¯s Blessing. I¡¯m giving you all the middle finger with my soul right now Gods! Except you Archie, Blessing please. I was distracted, and barely caught the end of what Opal was saying.


    ¡°- Her blessings grant [Soulsight] and [Truespeech].¡±


    ¡°What? Who, where? Why [Truespeech]?¡±


    ¡°As I said,¡± Opal sighed, ¡°Midna is the Goddess of Spirit and Communication, and it is by her gift of thought that the races created writing and words.¡±


    ¡°Do the different races have different writing then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, though gnomish is mostly a deadnguage now, and the beastfolkrgely speak the human tongue.¡±


    ¡°Why is that? Assimtion?¡±


    Opal paused and looked at me askance. ¡°Every time I think you are a fool you reveal deeper intelligence and learning. I¡¯m surprised you even know that word, and I grow curiouser and curiouser about your past. You are correct. The gnomes have been living with the dwarves for so long that they have chosen to adopt ournguage as their own. The beastfolk are often enved by the humans, and theirnguage only lives on in their own far-flung tribes.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, very is a thing? I thought Solen was the God of Freedom?¡±


    ¡°There cannot be freedom without bondage and vice versa.¡±


    Your intelligence has increased by 1! New intelligence is 11!


    Nice!


    We finished off by talking about Titles and where people learned magic. Eventually Opal looked at her pocket watch and made noises about going soon. As we were making our way down the ridge, a Dwarf from the camp came running up to us. I didn¡¯t know his name but I recognized him as a fellow member of the chain gang.


    ¡°Doctor!¡± He shouted, panting as he ran up to us.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Opal came to attention, her gaze growing professional.


    ¡°Grim needs ya right away. You too Pete, all ¡®ands down to tha mine!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked, as we began running.


    ¡°There¡¯s been an ident, a rockslide. Balin¡¯s been trapped!¡±


    I ran harder.

 Chapter 9: Blessing

    <h4>Chapter 9: Blessing</h4>


    We ran to the mining tunnel as fast as possible. Doc Opal quickly peeled off ahead. I guess she has a higher agility stat. I gasped at the dwarf running beside me between panting breaths.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Balin got sloppy. He was wantin to finish ¡®is indenture quicker now tha¡¯ Annie¡¯s in the picture. He, Annie, and Wreck dug too deep on a dive withou¡¯ waitin fer proper mine supports. He shouted about finding a freschie, and we all came ta see, but then there was a rumblin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Dear Firmament.¡± I whispered, dreading what came next.


    ¡°Annie and Wreck were with ¡®im. He pushed tha two of ¡®em outta the way when tha ¡®ole roof caved in. E¡¯s trapped in a damn freschie!¡±


    That was bad. It was beyond ¡®dwarven beer¡¯ bad and into ¡®beard caught in a drill press¡¯ levels of bad. Walking into a freschie, or newly opened cavern, was what had nearly killed me. I had barely been inside a freschie for a few moments, and Balin was stuck in one.


    There was a good chance he was dead. I tried running harder¡­ damn stubby legs!


    We pounded down the mining tunnel, a couple other dwarves joining us as we ran. The entire mine was running toe help, and there was soon a pack of us. I grabbed an abandoned minecart as we passed by.


    ¡°Everyone push!¡± First one, then two, then most of the dwarves understood my meaning as we began to push the minecart up to speed. The mining tunnel went down for nearly a kilometer and the current dives were down near the bottom. We needed a vehicle or we¡¯d all arrive too tired to help. ¡°Now, jump!¡± With a shout, the entire grumble of dwarves leaped into the minecart. One dwarf was slightly too slow and fell out of the minecart. Someone, Tim I realized, reached out and grabbed his beard, dragging him behind. We rocketed down the passage, the unfortunate dwarf kiting behind us swearing at the top of his lungs.


    ¡°We¡¯rein up on tha end!¡± The dwarf that had fetched me shouted. ¡°Every dwarf brace fer impact!¡± He grabbed the brakes and sparks flew as the minecart began toe to a screeching stop.


    With an ear-shattering *BANG!!!* the minecart hit the blocks denoting the end of the tracks. Dwarves were catapulted into the tunnel, with a bevy of expletives and shouts of ¡°By Barcks¡¯ Beard!¡± And ¡°Solen¡¯s Socks!¡±


    Why socks?


    I rolled to a stop; my ego bruised more than my body. There¡¯s that dwarven vitality again. Up ahead I could hear amotion down a side tunnel. I ran down it to see Annie, Wreck, and a few other dwarves hammering their picks on stone and desperately moving rubble away. A few dwarves were hanging from the ceiling, maneuveringrge wooden blocks in to act as supports. They were wearing something more closely resembling leather overalls than the leather armour I was used to. The front pockets were full of tools.


    Annie saw me approaching, her pickaxe stopping mid swing. Her eyes weren¡¯t filled with tears, though they were slightly panicked. She was 100% desperate, serious, efficiency.


    ¡°Pete!¡± She called as I sprinted over.


    ¡°How long has he been in there?¡± I went to grab a pickaxe and Annie stopped me as a few other dwarves ran over and began hammering stone.


    ¡°Nearly 10 minutes! Go help Wreck!¡± Wreck was pulling rubble off of the cave-in as fast as possible, her beard glistening with tears. I fell in beside her and we soon had a whole chain of dwarves passing stone from dwarf to dwarf out to the minecarts. We worked in grim silence, the only sound the asional orders from Grim, who arrived a few minutes after I did.


    Wreck muttered beside me. ¡°It¡¯s all my fault¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked, grunting as she passed me an especially heavy piece of granite.


    ¡°Balin and Annie were talking about their ns after the mine. I told them that their best bet for early release was to find a gem cache or new vein. Speaker John can find veins pretty easy, but he can¡¯t see freschies; they¡¯re the best bet for striking it big. Balin and Annie were so excited by the idea that we dug at random, pushed too hard, dug too deep, went too fast¡­¡± Fresh tears began to run down her cheeks. ¡°If he dies it¡¯ll be all my fault¡­ Oh Annie.¡±


    ¡°Stop it Wreck!¡± I snapped at her. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, it was an ident, and he¡¯s not dead yet!¡± Wreck nodded at me with sunken eyes.


    Grim yelled out a change in line. The fresh dwarves, myself included, were moved up front to the cave in. Wreck was shifted to the back of the line, her hands ragged. ¡°Go see Doc Opal, you can¡¯t work like that.¡± I told her. She nodded nkly at me. Not good, I¡¯d seen a friend in shock once after a bad Lacrosse ident and she had all the hallmarks of it. ¡°Doc Opal!¡± I called, waving her over. ¡°We need you.¡± Opal ushered Wreck away with soothing words. I redoubled my efforts, now first in line.


    Balin was my best friend here in Erd, and was the closest thing I had to family. He had cared for me from the moment I came here, full of patience and kindness. We were going to go to the brewery together and I was going to show him the wonders of craft beer. A stone slipped andnded on my foot, but I barely noticed as I grabbed it and passed it to the next dwarf in line. After a few minutes I could feel my stamina beginning to bottom out. My leather gloves were beginning to fray from the sharp rocks, and I could feel my fingers beginning to bleed. I gritted my teeth and paced myself, falling into a familiar rhythm. I yedcrosse and rugby in high school, and I learned a lot of mental tricks to keep going even when I was exhausted. A game of rugby canst over an hour, and your legs and back are burning by the end of it. I bent my knees and put my head down like I was back in a scrum, and began to *heave*. I put all my willpower, all of my focus into it; the cave around me bing nothing more than a dark blur as I lifted and passed.


    Lift and pass.


    Lift and pass. Someone was hitting my shoulder but I ignored them.


    Lift and pass. I¡¯ming buddy.


    Lift and pass.


    That was when I saw a bright blue light.


    Your hard work and effort for the sake of a friend has gained the attention of Tiara. As you move the earth, the earth now moves with you. Do you wish to receive Tiara¡¯s blessing? Your body and possessions will gain the [Strength of All].


    Yes/No


    Just a few minutes ago I had sworn to never ept any blessing before I received the blessing of Archis. I didn¡¯t even know how Tiara¡¯s Blessing would interact with magic. I didn¡¯t care. I could feel my body beginning to g. I needed that blessing. I mentally clicked on ¡®yes¡¯.


    You have epted the blessing of Tiara! You have received the Blessings [Strength of All: Self] and [Strength of All: Held]!


    Strength plus 2!


    Vitality plus 2!


    A faint light erupted from my skin and I could feel my muscles shifting. So, this was a Blessing? I felt like I could take on the world! Suddenly there was a small chime and another blue notification popped up.


    You have received a quest!


    A Friend in Need


    A friend needs your help. Will you rush to their aid?


    This is a timed quest. Time remaining: 6 minutes.


    Reward:


    +0.1 Strength


    ept Quest


    Yes / No


    What on Erd was this goatshit? A quest? Nobody had mentioned quests!? Did that mean Balin had less than 6 minutes left? Did that mean he was ALIVE?! I mentally clicked on Yes, and a timer appeared just at the edge of my vision. It began ticking down. I clenched my fists and felt the power coursing through me. I shrugged off a hand that was shaking me. Grim was shouting something, but I didn¡¯t care. I pushed him aside and stepped onto the pile of stone keeping me from my brother. I dug my hand into the rubble and I barely felt the sharp stones. My breath came easier as I dug in my feet and *heaved*, ripping a small boulder out from the wall of stone.


    There were shouts of rm as the entire pile shifted, but I ignored them. My gloves felt more like gauntlets than leather, and as I grabbed another boulder, I could feel my fingers slightly sink in to the stone. In a moment three dwarves took up a ce behind me. The silence was broken as the entire grumble of miners began a chanting refrain to the rhythm of the work. Their voices echoed down the flickering tunnel in a mesmerising bass tone.


    Down in the deep,


    Tiara¡¯s Keep.


    No dwarf to ever find.


    Hear now the stone.


    Rumble and groan.


    Shift and crack and grind.


    Dive in the dark.


    Killing your spark.


    Riches upon your mind.


    Be ever bold.


    Silver and gold.


    Treasure to be mined.


    Down in the deep,


    Tiara¡¯s Keep.


    No dwarf to ever find.


    Hear now the stone.


    Rumble and groan.


    Shift and crack and grind.


    Beg to the Gods.


    We sorry sods.


    True Luck is never blind.


    Now strike your pick


    Now make it stick.


    No dwarf left behind.


    Down in the deep,


    Tiara¡¯s Keep.


    No dwarf to ever find.


    Hear now the stone.


    Rumble and groan.


    Shift and crack and grind.


    Strike! Heave!


    Strike! Cleave!


    Strike! Heave!


    Strike! Cleave!


    With a crash, a section of stone fell away, revealing a small portal into the darkness. There was a cheer before Grim instantly hushed the crowd.


    ¡°Balin!¡± I shouted into the darkness. Stale air hit my face, but it felt wet and breathable. The timer on my quest still read 2 minutes. Was I in time? I listened with desperate hope.


    Silence was my only reply.

 Chapter 10: Rescue and realization

    <h4>Chapter 10: Rescue and realization</h4>


    I stood on the rubble, peering into a pitch-ck hole. I prayed to the Gods and looked at the timer. It was still ticking down those 2 minutes. I tried calling again. ¡°Balin! Can you hear me!¡±


    ¡°Pete?¡± A hushed voice croaked. Balin was alive! ¡°Yer not me head yin tricks?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯rein¡¯ Balin!¡± I began to pull stones away from the hole, taking care not to copse it inwards.


    ¡°Are Annie an¡¯ Wreck safe?¡± Balin¡¯s voice was weak, too weak.


    ¡°They¡¯re fine. You¡¯re the only one in danger right now. Are you ok?¡±


    ¡°My leg is trapped. I can hear water. I think this is a shaft to somewhere.¡± Balin coughed. ¡°I can breathe, but it hurts to move.¡± Now Annie and Wreck were beside me, helping pull stones aside. The dwarves in overalls were setting up supports to ensure the pile didn¡¯t copse. In a few moments Balin¡¯s head came into view. His face was slick with sweat. Annie went to grab him, but Doc Opal shoved her aside and took charge.


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± She asked.


    ¡°The rocksnded on my leg. I¡¯m pinned.¡± Balin groaned. ¡°I could feel it bleedin, but not anymore.¡±


    ¡°Then your femoral artery isn¡¯t punctured, or you¡¯d already be dead.¡± Opal said. ¡°I need him clear, and we will probably need a Healer. Grim?¡±


    ¡°I already sent for him.¡± Grim elbowed into the group.


    ¡°Good. I can buy some time. We can¡¯t move you yet Balin. This is going to hurt, but you¡¯re strong.¡±


    ¡°Aye¡± Balin said. Opal ced a stone upon his head and there was a green sh. Balin whimpered, but his face got some colour back. There was a *bing* and the timer in my vision vanished as another blue box appeared. I mentally shoved it aside; I didn¡¯t have time for notifications right now. Opal called over her shoulder, ¡°I have enough sparkstones to onlyst about 5 minutes. Where¡¯s that Healer, Grim?¡±


    ¡°I used amunication stone! They should be here soon!¡± Grim replied.


    Minutes ticked by, with Opal continuing to press sparkstones to Balin¡¯s head whenever he grew listless.


    Then with resounding *crack* there was a blinding sh and two figures appeared in the tunnel.


    One had a long braided white beard with a series of knots and beads in it. He waspletely bald and wore a white robe with gold filigree. He adjusted a pair of silver sses on his nose as he blinked in the tunnel.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the patient.¡± He said with a quivery voice.


    ¡°Over here Healer¡± Opal motioned. He stumbled up the pile and I reached over to give him a hand. He gave me an appreciative nod and then bent over Balin.


    ¡°Who¡¯s in charge here?¡± Said the other dwarf. He, no she, was wearing the regr dark leather armor I¡¯vee to expect from dwarves. The only difference being that she had a leather skirt! It was the first skirt I¡¯ve seen, most of the miners preferring the protection of pants. You¡¯d think that skirts would look weird on dwarves, but it fit quite nicely with the rest of the outfit. A single pauldron made of some kind of green looking ss hung over her left shoulder. She had greying hair and a pleated beard; her eyes were flint as she looked around the room.


    ¡°I am. Mine Leader Grim, ID 32498.¡± Grim stepped forward. ¡°Thank you for bringing Healer Bastion, Discer Ruby. We have a single dwarf named Balin trapped under the rubble.¡±


    ¡°Current status?¡± The¡­ Discer? A teleporter maybe? Walked over to the hole we¡¯d made, examining it. The Healer was currently taking Balin¡¯s temperature.


    ¡°Stable.¡± Said Opal. ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can remove these rocks without causing further injury.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it. Clear a space.¡± With that Ruby ced her hand on Balin¡¯s chest while a couple dwarves rushed to obey. I helped Healer Bastion down the pile to where a section of the tunnel was rapidly cleared. A few rags wereid down as a makeshift bed and the Healer sat down next to it. ¡°Ready Bastion?¡± Discer Ruby called down.


    ¡°Ready!¡± The white-robed dwarf spread his hands out.


    ¡°Now!¡± With another *crack* Balin vanished and appeared on the bed. He screamed, and the Healer immediately ced faintly glowing hands on his chest. A soothing green light began to seep into Balin, who¡¯s scream turned into a breathy moan. It was hard to see through the dark leathers, but it was clear that his leg was not just broken but really messed up. At this point Balin slumped over unconscious, and Doc Opal held his head up while the Healer continued to pump green energy into him. As time went by, Balin¡¯s face grew pink and healthy, and his leg began to twitch as it healed back to it¡¯s former self.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡± Said the Healer, standing up. ¡°The council will expect a report Mine Leader Grim.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I know.¡± Grim lookedpletely dejected. I know he¡¯s already in hot water over my ident and the Pilsner ss incident. I hope he doesn¡¯t get into big trouble.


    ¡°Well, we are all lucky to not see kin die tonight.¡± Said Discer Ruby, walking up to Grim and cing her hand on his shoulder. She turned and faced the group. ¡°Excellent work convicts! I am proud to call you fellow dwarves!¡± The crowd gave a few muffled cheers, but we were too tired to really build up steam.


    We¡­


    Did¡­


    It.


    I passed out. Thest thing I saw was Doc Opal¡¯s panicked face as she reached out to stop me from toppling over.


    ---


    Balin woke up in darkness. His first terrified thought was that he was back in that cave, his foot trapped beneath the rubble. Was Annie alright? Was he dead? That was when the nket fell off and he realized he was in Doc Opal¡¯s cabin. Annie was holding his hand from where shey crouched beside the bed. She was fast asleep, her beard gently swaying as she breathed in and out. Her face was drawn and haggard, but a smile of relief was etched upon it.


    Truly, he was a lucky dwarf. Pete, Annie, Wreck, he had made some incredible friends andpanions in this camp. After the monster stampede he had been lost,pletely adrift in the world. It was the camp that had reignited the jolly fire in his heart. It was also the camp that had nearly snuffed it out.


    It was time to leave. He could simply run away, but he couldn¡¯t leave Annie, and Pete still needed him. The lovable dope with the beerplex was like his old dog back home. His dog¡¯s name had been Peedee, and the way Pete looked at him with trusting eyes was just like old Peedee. Balin sat upon the bed and looked at the most beautiful dwarf he¡¯d ever known. Indeed, it was time to leave.


    ---


    Two days have passed since the tunnel incident. I hummed the tune to ''Sweet Child O'' Mine'' as I sat upon the ridge looking over the caverns. Sammy had always loved Guns and Roses, though I was more of an ACDC man myself. I wonder how you¡¯re doing now, my sweet child.


    We had been lucky. The freschie was part of an underground stream that connected to an opening in the mountain far above us. Oxygen was carried down the stream into the caves. Not enough to live there, but long enough for Balin to survive. There were no gemstone deposits or iron veins. No treasures that were worth my friend¡¯s life. This event drove something home: I¡¯m in a fantasy world now. While swinging my pick is fun, and singing dwarven drinking songste into the morning is a riot, the life of a mining convict is fraught with danger. I¡¯ve been subconsciously putting off leaving the mine, because it¡¯s the only ce I¡¯ve ever known here. In a way, this small camp and the grumpy dwarves who lived here had be my ce of refuge. Their cheerful smiles belied a life where a simple ident could spell doom.


    Balin and I needed to get out of here, and I couldn¡¯t afford to wait. However, there was aplication... Apparently, the cost of a Healer/Discer 911 Emergency Call is quite high. Because Balin didn¡¯t follow proper safety procedures he was determined to be at fault and the cost of the call was added to his indenture. It was going to take him years to get out now.


    I needed something big, and I needed Balin to help me do it. If I did it alone, it wouldn¡¯t count towards Balin¡¯s indenture, and his was even bigger than mine now. What could I do though? Minecarts weren¡¯t my expertise, and it was pretty clear that most of my beer making skills would go to waste here. If only there was an easier way to mine! Apparently getting actual Mattershapers to do mining with magic was wasteful and expensive, so mining is still done the old-fashioned way. Dynamite doesn¡¯t exist, and the closest amalgam was getting an Aethershaper to throw fireballs at the wall. That didn¡¯t happen either; millions of Shapers for Defense, but not one mage for mining. Surely there was a modern solution I could steal. Mining drills? Not an engineer. Dynamite? Nitro is likely to get me killed. Modern efficiency paradigms applied to synergisticpetencies? Too buzzwordy. I switched to singing some ''Knockin on Heavens Door'' as I brainstormed ideas.¡±


    Something was tickling the back of my mind as I sang a line about putting guns in the ground. Something I hadn¡¯t thought about since college. Something about guns... Guns and Roses? Gunnels? Gundams? My eyes widened.


    GUNPOWDER.


    My mind began to whirl when a voice called to me from the camp.


    ¡°Oy Pete! There¡¯s a Blessin Party with yer name on it! Bran¡¯s got sugar for ya! Youin?¡±


    Barck¡¯s Beard! Did they say sugar?! I rushed down the hill, my thoughts momentarily forgotten.


    Freedom could wait, there was beer to save!

 Chapter 11: Somewhere else

    <h4>Chapter 11: Somewhere else</h4>


    On the side of a cliff there stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    ¡°Has everyone chosen then?¡± A crisp masculine voice asked. There was a clink as jade tokens were tossed onto the table. Each token was delicately carved to represent a different race. They were a couple humans and dwarves, a gnome, a beastkin, an elf, and a dragon.


    ¡°A dragon again?¡± A feminine voice giggled. ¡°Those scaly shut-ins are never useful.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± A masculine voice growled. ¡°It will be different this time.¡±


    ¡°Now, now, this is for the betterment of us all.¡± The first voice chided, an amused lilt to their tone. The two stopped bickering and sat back in their chairs with a harrumph. ¡°Good. You all know the rules. No interference, and no direct contact besides that which is allowed. All agreed?¡±


    ¡°AGREED¡± was the chorus.


    ¡°If that''s done, I have concerns about a particr aspect and wish to discuss it.¡± One figure stood, the attention of the room shifting to them. Soon a heated discussion was underway.


    On the other side of the table, one cloaked figure elbowed another and whispered in brusque feminine twang, ¡°I got the jump on you; you¡¯re going to miss your chance.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± A deep gravely voice spoke out.


    ¡°Well, I think you¡¯ve lost before we¡¯ve even begun.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but I have an advantage.¡± A smile winked from behind a bushy beard.


    "No doubt he will give you a chance sooner orter, but how is that an advantage?"


    There was a pregnant pause, before the woman gasped.


    "You wouldn''t!"


    "I would."


    "That''s against the rules!"


    "There''s a loophole."


    "Who cares if there''s a loophole! There is always - !" The woman dropped her voice to a hiss, wary of eavesdroppers. "there must <i>always </i>be a choice."


    "I''ve paid too much to lose this chance, and my chosen <i>can''t afford</i> to lose this chance."


    ¡°What about the penalty?¡±


    ¡°I don''t care. The reward will far outweigh any personal cost.¡± The man smiled self-assuredly.


    ¡°If you say so, but I can¡¯t imagine anything worth <i>that</i>.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re simplycking in imagination, a character fault.¡±


    ¡°Hmph, you¡¯ll pay for that remark!¡±


    The conversation across from them came to an end. An ord was reached.


    The first voice spoke again. ¡°We are agreed?¡±


    "AGREED".


    The first nodded and they all called as one, ¡°Let the new era begin!¡±


    Beneath them, the mountain trembled.

 Chapter 12: A Bicycle Ride

    <h4>Chapter 12: A Bicycle Ride</h4>


    ¡°So.¡± Bran piqued, ¡°Why have you been so desperate for sugar?¡±


    I was currently standing in the kitchen surrounded by Bran, Balin, and Tim. Annie was talking to Opal outside in the mess hall and Wreck was still a bit of a wreck. She was already drunk and syed out on a bench. Speaking of the mess hall, it was full of cheerful dwarves awaiting a Blessing cake.


    Unfortunately, the cake was a lie.


    I hadmandeered the allotment of sugar for my own nefarious purposes. Sorry my kinsmen, but it¡¯s booze before bros. I had been waiting almost 2 weeks for this moment. I know that isn¡¯t a lot, but when you¡¯re dying of thirst in a desert you take what you can get. Furthermore, just like the pilsner ss I was going to make this a resounding sess.


    ¡°Well Bran, I¡¯m about to ruin this keg of beer.¡±


    ¡°Wuzzat?¡± Bran ced his hand protectively on the small keg sitting on the counter beside me. This kitchen was actually pretty nice. It was well equipped with stainless steel appliances and simr edging on the walls. They had hot and cold water piped in, as well as a cold storage area. I have no clue how it worked in detail, but apparently stuff like that is created by titled ¡®Enchanters¡¯. They can use runes and magic stones from monsters to create longsting effects. A rack of knives on the wall were incredibly sharp and nasty looking. Leave it to dwarves to have superior cutware.


    ¡°Yep, you see I¡¯m going to use this sugar to make some bad beer.¡±


    ¡°Now why would ya do that?¡± Tim asked, curious. We had grown a bit closer after the minecart incident, and while we weren¡¯t ¡®friends¡¯ I¡¯d call us good office buddies.


    ¡°Aye, who in their mind would want bad beer?¡± Balin agreed.


    ¡°Well, when the beer is already terrible, making it bad is an improvement!¡±


    ¡°THA BEER AIN¡¯T BAD!¡± The three of them cried in unison.


    ¡°Yer still off yer rocker, Pete!¡± Bran opined. Tim nodded in unison.


    ¡°Pete, don¡¯t do this.¡± Balin moaned, pulling his beard with both hands. ¡°I barely managed to keep ya alive, and now yer aimin¡¯ to get us <i>both</i> killed!¡±


    ¡°Well technically he saved ¡®yer life too.¡± Tim pointed out.


    ¡°Pete, fer your own sake, I rmend you not give everyone bad beer fer that Blessin¡¯ party.¡± Bran said seriously. ¡°My first week as chef I made a bad sandwich and I woke up strung halfway up to tha roof. Took me ages to get down.¡±


    ¡°I must. Fer Pete¡¯s sake!¡± I retorted, grinning.


    ¡°What?¡± Balin raised a querulous eyebrow.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­be quiet, I¡¯m brewin¡¯ ere!¡± I turned to the pot of sugar in front of me. It was originally from a type of sugar cane in Green Tree dungeon. They took the cane and crushed it to remove the sap and concentrated it into a syrup. That syrup was dried out and processed to form sugar crystals. It¡¯s exactly how cane sugar is made back home, and it tastes almost exactly like it too. It was perfect. I grabbed an apron from a hook and tied it around my back. It almost felt like home; I shook my head. This <i>was</i> home now.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to make some simple syrup first.¡± I turned to Bran. ¡°Can I have a pot, please?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not givin you a pot till yer good and proper.¡± He said, handing me a beard and hair. Right! I have a giant beard now! There had been a distinctck of hair in my food up till this point, and I was reminded that dwarves took beard hygiene very seriously. I got everything on, and Bran gave me a once over before he nodded his approval. I filled arge pot with water and ced it on the stove. The stoves used simple charcoal, because that¡¯s significantly cheaper than an enchanted stove and does the job just as well.


    Making simple syrup is really easy. You just need to take a pot of water and add lots of sugar (technically it¡¯s equal parts sugar and water). Stir it until the sugar dissolvespletely and let it boil. The convection currents will take care of the majority of the work from then on. As the water boils down, the sugar and water concentrate into a thick sweet syrup. It can take a few tries to get it right; the sugar grantes at thest stage if you aren¡¯t careful. I¡¯d done this a lot when I was living alone so it was pretty easy for me.


    Tim leaned over the pot. ¡°Why syrup?¡±


    ¡°Well, sweeteners can be added to beer at any stage. Some prefer to do it right before fermentation in order to add a distinct vour to the beer. You can add fruit sugars, maple syrup, caramel, any kind of sweet liquid really. Once you pour it into your wort it is called an adjunct, and they are one of the main ways to add vour to beer.¡±


    ¡°I know those words.¡± Bran nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard any of that.¡± Said Balin.


    ¡°It¡¯s not what tha Ancestors intended.¡± Tim made a gesture across his chest. Some kind of ward against evil?


    ¡°What¡¯s a maple syrup?¡± Asked Bran. ¡°Is it sweet?¡± His eyes sparkled, and they flicked briefly to Opal through the kitchen window.


    ¡°Ites from a Maple tree. None of those in Green Tree?¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± said Tim. ¡°I know all tha good wood in Green Tree. No Maple.¡±


    ¡°Ah well, it¡¯s really good on pancakes.¡± I could really go for pancakes, or a good old fashioned pancake breakfast.


    ¡°What¡¯s a pancake?¡± Bran pulled out a notepad. ¡°And where are ya gettin¡¯ all these recipes from?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­. I don¡¯t remember?¡± The three of them rolled their eyes.


    ¡°How do you know so much about the wood in Green Tree, Tim? Why are you even here, what did you do?¡± I changed the subject as I poured the sugar into the pot and stirred.


    ¡°I was caught embezzling.¡± Said Tim, and then refused to say more. Well, to each their own, and in a gold andw-centric society like the dwarves that was a fairly serious crime.


    We sat in silence for a while, watching the water refuse to boil. We had to stop watching this pot. I decided to continue my craft brew lesson while we waited.


    ¡°Adding pure sugar to the wort is often done in the Belgian fashion, using what is referred to as candi sugar. Candi sugar is a type of beet sugar that¡¯s been toasted and caramelized. It makes for a strong brown beer called a dubbel.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Belgia?¡± Balin frowned.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t beer already brown?¡± Tim¡¯s brows furrowed.


    ¡°Uh, a human city. It¡¯s different, Tim.¡± I replied to both.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been above ground?!¡± Bran asked in shock.


    ¡°Exins so much.¡± Tim grumbled.


    ¡°Aye, me parents warned humans would rot yer brain.¡± Agreed Balin. Hey! ¡°Did ya learn all this stuff from tha humans? I didn¡¯t know they drank tha brew o¡¯ tha Dwarves.¡±


    ¡°Aye, they drink that swill they call spirits.¡± Bran said sagely. ¡°And ursed water¡­¡± The three of them shivered then turned to look at me.


    ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t remember?¡± The three of them rolled their eyes again.


    By this time the pot had a merry boil going, and I gave it azy little stir.


    ¡°You can also add sugar at the bottling stage as a priming sugar or during secondary fermentation.¡±


    ¡°Fraid¡¯ none of us are brewers Pete, you¡¯ve lost us.¡± The three nodded. I sighed.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m doing none of that, because I¡¯m not brewing beer. I¡¯m ruining it.¡± The water was getting thick, it would soon be time to turn off the heat. ¡°Do you have any spices or fruits I could use Bran?¡±


    ¡°Aye, I have some. Mostly for Opal though.¡± He opened the cooler and I leaned in behind him. ¡°I got apples, some strawberries, basil, thyme ¨C¡°


    ¡°Hold tha phone!¡± I interrupted. I reached over his shoulder and grabbed a few round yellow fruits before he could stop me. ¡°You have lemons?!¡±


    ¡°Tha phone?¡± Muttered Tim. I ignored him.


    ¡°These change everything!¡± I was originally going to add the simple syrup into the beer. The sweetness would help with the awful vour and the thickness of the syrup would help a bit with the consistency. It would turn the beer into an awful root-beerish concoction, but it would be a bit tastier. Like I said, terrible to bad. If I had lemons though¡­ I could do something far better! A Radler! A Bicycle! I turned to my pot and grabbed a knife. I hummed a song as I cut into the first lemon.


    "Lets go ride a bike..."


    Thanks for the save, Freddie Mercury! Or was that Merry Poppins?


    Bran blocked my way as I went to cut more lemons. ¡°I can¡¯t let ya do that Pete, that¡¯s fer Opal¡¯s Lemon Meringue.¡±


    ¡°Come on Bran, it¡¯s all in the name of good beer! Besides, Opal is going to love it, and I¡¯ll let you share in the credit with her.¡± Bran stroked his beard thoughtfully.


    ¡°Opal will love it ya say? Alright, you get one shot but yer payin fer the lemons if it doesn¡¯t work out. They grow well in Green Tree but they¡¯re expensive.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t regret it!¡± I grabbed another pot and squeezed the first lemon into it. ¡°I already am¡­¡± He muttered.


    ¡°So, what is it?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m making a Radler, er a Bicycle. Do you know what a bicycle is?¡± The three of them looked at me strangely.


    ¡°Everyone knows what a bicycle is Pete.¡± Balin scoffed.


    ¡°Aye, gnomish contraption made with good dwarven aluminium.¡± Bran nodded.


    ¡°I love a good mountain bike me-self.¡± said Tim. We all turned to stare at him and he reddened.


    I turned back to my preparations. ¡°Well anyway, the story goes that a group of humans was out biking when they came to a small bar. They went in for a beer but there wasn¡¯t enough for them all. The barkeeper asked if they were thirsty for some lemonade instead, and they said why not both! The bartender mixed the beer and the lemonade together and a new kind of beer was born! A bicycle, or Radler in the human tongue, is especially good on a hot day or after a long day¡¯s work. It¡¯s usually made with lemonade but any citrus fruit will do.¡±


    ¡°Lemonade?¡± Asked Balin, peering into the lemon juice filled pot as I added some of the syrup and a bunch of water


    ¡°A gnomish drink.¡± Said Bran knowingly.


    I stirred the pot and tasted it as I sighed in pleasure. Tasty, tasty, lemonade. I grabbed the keg and three dwarven hands stopped me.


    ¡°Are ya sure Pete?¡± asked Balin.


    ¡°Absolutely.¡± I grabbed a tankard and poured it roughly three-quarters full of beer and then added the lemonade. Most of the carbonation was washed out, but there was barely any bubbly anyway. I took a deep drink and sighed. Gods bless Queen. Balin and Tim looked at me suspiciously as Bran poured himself one. He took a deep drink and paused as he smacked his lips.


    ¡°Its¡­ Good!!¡± He said, looking surprised. Balin poured himself a tankard and tried it as well, his handlebar moustache twitched as he drank. The two of them looked at me and then back at the beer.


    Bran sighed. ¡°There¡¯s going to be another fight¡­¡± but his eyes steeled as he nced Opal¡¯s way. ¡°Well, let¡¯s do this!¡±


    We brought the beer up to the distribution table and Bran cleared his throat. ¡°All right everyone! Pete¡¯s got a treat for you all tonight! Line up and grab yer tankards!¡± There was some confused mumbling as all the dwarves queued up and we started pouring Radlers.


    After 3 minutes a tankard was thrown across the room. After 5 minutes, the first dwarf was tossed out a window. Then the true pandemonium began.


    ¡°Ya can¡¯t put lemons in tha beer!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s delicious!¡±


    ¡°Spits in tha face o¡¯ the ancestors¡±


    ¡°That ss too, are ya¡¯ll touched by Yearn?¡±


    ¡°TIM! Shut yer gab!¡±


    ¡°Make me!¡±


    ---


    I nodded at the brawl and sipped from my tankard. It still wasn¡¯t good, but it would do; a sessful evening all around. A bright blue box grabbed my attention with a *bing*.


    You have gained the love and hatred of a great number of people all at once! Yearn wishes to bless you so that you might survive long enough to continue your great work! If you ept you will receive [Stealth] and [Sense Emotions]. Do you ept?


    Yes/No


    I hummed some ¡®Sugar,Sugar¡¯ as I mentally clicked on ¡®No¡¯. Doc Opal had told me I could receive "a total of two blessings", and I wanted a certain precious someone. Soe on Archie, I¡¯m waiting for you, give me some of that magic!

 Interlude 1: Grim Satisfaction

    <h4>Interlude 1: Grim Satisfaction</h4>


    ¡°Mine Leader Grim, ID 32498 you have been called to give your report to the Administrator.¡±


    The imposing greybeard in front of him glowered down from a raised desk. The desk was fine mahogany with leather padding and brass buttons. A tiny sculpture of a Mushfolk sat in one corner alongside a tankard that read ¡®Beer Drinking Champion of 9808¡¯. The dwarf sat forward in his plush velvet chair and tapped his fingers on the desk in a stato rhythm as he glowered briefly down at Grim. Grim knew the desk was a recent acquisition, confiscated from an official that had been caught embezzling.


    Grim sighed with jealousy. He wanted one. He idly tapped a shoe as the Administrator read over the paperwork; likely with Milestones like [Detect Falsehoods] or [Check Spelling]. Dear Lunara, did Grim ever want [Check Spelling]¡­ He straightened as the greybeard harrumphed. ¡°Yes Sir?¡±


    ¡°Your paperwork mentions this ¡®Peter Samson¡¯ rather a lot¡­¡± The Administrator stroked his grey streaked beard, which reached all the way to the floor. That was a rather old style; the younger generations preferred not to step on their beard while they walked. Younger being anyone under the age of 600. The Administrator continued, ¡°I have noticed that name before, in a medical report, one moment, [Find Reference].¡± He reached down and pulled open a drawer, withdrawing a file folder. ¡°Indeed, 10 gold for the services of Doctor Opal as well as a sparkstone. In addition, partial medical fee responsibility for no less than 2 brawls. That 10 gold feels like it is insufficient. From the report, it appears Doctor Opal has been spending a significant amount of time with him.¡±


    Grim interjected. ¡°Yes, but the mental rehabilitation is not added to his indenture, [Relevant Article]. As per Mining Manual V. 342, Section 4, Article 13, Subsection A: All injuries obtained while working as a prisoner within the City of Minnova Prison Mine are to be added to the prisoner¡¯s indenture. Subsection B: Any recurring injuries or required rehabilitation after a significant injury will be paid for by the City of Minnova Miner¡¯s Rehabilitation Fund.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but those funds are MEANT to be used for the citizens of Minnova!¡± The Administrator thundered, as he pounded the desk.


    ¡°The codes do not specify that! Peter Samson was injured in a Minnova Mine and is therefore due rpense from the Minnova Miner¡¯s Rehabilitation Fund!¡± Grim replied, his voice raised in kind.


    The two of them glowered at each other for a bit before the Administrator sighed and slumped into his chair. ¡°Do you feel that the city of Minnova would be well served by exiling this ¡®Peter Samson¡¯? We can continue to pay for his medical bills, but he appears to be a troublemaker.¡±


    ¡°Sir, I feel that removing him from the city is an extreme course of action. He has not purposefully instigated any of the brawls, they all stem from his experiments with beer.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Tell me about that.¡±


    ¡°Following prisoner Peter Samson¡¯s near-death experience, he began iming that beer is ¡®bad¡¯¡± Actually, he¡¯d been iming it was terrible, but no point in telling this old codger that.


    ¡°How strange. Was he of the same opinion before?¡± The Administrator furrowed his eyebrows in consternation. A dwarf that didn¡¯t like beer? Preposterous!


    ¡°No sir, he was arrested on a City of Minnova Civil Infraction 4218: Begging for Beer In An Unsightly Manner. ¡°


    ¡°Hmm¡­.¡±


    ¡°Sir, in my opinion Peter Samson is not a danger to the city of Minnova, and should not be exiled. He is a kind and hardworking dwarf, and was responsible for saving the life of a fellow in the incident with miner Balin.¡± Grim swallowed as he said this. He was putting his neck on the line for Pete here, but he honestly felt it was necessary. Pete did not deserve exile. Sure, he was a bit of an addled fool, but the Pilsner ss was rather interesting. Also, while he¡¯d never admit it¡­. He kind of liked the Radler. Plus, Doc Opal would have his head if he kicked out the source for all of Bran¡¯s new sweets recipes.


    The Administrator grumbled as he shuffled around some paperwork and thumped his stamp a few times. ¡°That brings me to the next thing, Mine Leader!¡± He growled.


    ¡°Yes Sir!¡± Grim straightened, what was it this time?!


    ¡°How is my daughter doing?¡± The Administrator¡¯s gaze softened as he looked over to the side of the room. There on a well-appointed wooden wall was a painting of the Administrator and two female Dwarves. One of which had a set of pink braids in a Verdi beard that Grim knew quite well.


    ¡°Lustre is doing very well, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Do you have ns to give me a grandchild any time this century?¡± The Administrator arched an eyebrow. Grim choked.


    ¡°Assuming I can get enough leave time to see her, Sir?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry son, you know I can¡¯t do that. If you want a serious position in city administration you need to spend some time on Mine Leader duty. Finish your tenure, get a title, and then we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    ¡°Aye sir.¡±


    ¡°Would you like a drink?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I have to get going soon. We have another Blessing party, and I can¡¯t keep missing those. Especially since they all seem to end in brawlstely.¡±


    ¡°Another one? [Find Reference]. That makes over 4 Blessings this month! That¡¯s unheard of!¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    ¡°Interesting¡­ Interesting¡­¡± The Administrator tapped his fingers on the desk. ¡°Well, go on then, I won¡¯t keep you from your work any longer. Peter Samson will stay at the City of Minnova Prison Mine, and may the Firmament have mercy on your spirit.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Grim bowed as he made his way out of the office. Dwarf Lord Rodson could be a stick-in-the-mud conservative sometimes, but he was always fair and followed the rules. Grim considered him a reasonable father-inw as far as fathers-inw could be concerned. As he stepped over the threshold there was a *bing* and a bright blue light appeared in his vision.


    You have performed a favour for the Gods and caught the attention of Lunara! Would you like to ept Her Blessing? If you ept you will receive a title!


    Yes/No


    A Blessing!? So soon? By Lunara¡¯s Lace, how fortuitous! He thought it would take years to earn another Blessing from Lunara! Getting a second Blessing from the same God was always an order more difficult! Grim grinned through his straight edge moustache as he went to mentally click on ¡®Yes¡¯. Then he paused, his legs beginning to quiver.


    Wait, what? He had performed a FAVOUR for the Gods? He thought back quickly through the meeting just a moment ago. There had been nothing of great import, no great revtions, and no great ns.


    What had he done?!


    What by the Firmament had he done?!?!

 Interlude 2: Blue Opal

    <h4>Interlude 2: Blue Opal</h4>


    Opal sat down in the mess hall and swirled her drink around in its tankard. She took a small sip and sighed. She was alone; most of the camp was out mining, and any stragglers were taking some time off after the emotional events of the past few days. She could hear the clink of dishes in the kitchen as Bran prepared for dinner. Opal looked deep into the slightly golden foam and took a deep chug of it before mming her tankard on the table.


    Truly, this ¡®Radler¡¯ was delicious. It had a sweet citrusy vour, but the texture and after-taste was the beer she knew and loved. She bent her head in thought. The Brew of the Dwarves had been around for nearly ten millenia. None had dared to change it much, though some dwarves did create Solenbrau by ident around five millenia ago. Some Dwarves had forgotten a few kegs in a cold storage cave and when they went to fetch them, most were ruined. One keg, however, had lost the dark colour of Ale and turned into something else.


    ¡°What did Pete call it?¡± Opal mused as she took another sip. ¡°A Lager.¡± She personally preferred the sweeter Solenbrau to Ale. Almost all Solenbrau in the city was made using yeast from that very first Keg. The same was true of nearly all the Beer in the city. Dwarven Brewmasters owed their craft to the First Brew, and in recognition they all used the yeasts from that very first batch. Solenbrau being the exception of course.


    Opal peered into her tankard, which was now nearly empty. Exception. There was the problem. Was it an exception, or had Solenbrau simply happened so long ago that it had been given the opportunity to grow? The fight after the Radler incident had been vicious. She had fixed at least a dozen ck eyes and a broken arm. Someone had even shaved another dwarf¡¯s beard! It was unheard of! Poor Tim would take years to grow back his cropped beard, if it ever grew back the same at all. Some of the camp were still not quite on speaking terms, and that was simply not the dwarven way. She didn¡¯t know what was going to happen if Pete ever got free from the camp and started to bring his ideas down into the city. There could be actual civil unrest.


    All over beer. Opal shook her head, scandalized at her own thoughts. It was beer! The Brew of the Dwarves! And yet¡­ and yet that was all it was. If beer disappeared tomorrow, dwarves would still be dwarves. They¡¯d wake up in the morning and work hard, follow thews as set forth by the ancestors, and find something new to fight over in the mess hall. Then they would shake hands,ugh, and do it all again the next day. These grudges and dark mutterings in defense of beer¡­ they were undwarvish!


    What could be done though? At this point beer was one of the most sacred traditions. Entire family lines were dedicated to the protection of the yeasts and malts of the founder. Proud adventurers went into the dungeon each day risking their lives to bring out the herbs and spices used to vor the wort. All ¡°As the First Brewer Intended¡±. What, did they think that the First Brewer was a God? He was simply another Dwarf, blessed by Tiara and Barck, the first to be granted a Title rted to beer. If it could happen once, surely it could happen again?


    ¡°Everythin alright Opal?¡± A voice asked by her side. She turned to see Bran standing next to her table carrying a cream puff on a delicate te. She loved cream puffs! Truly, she was spoiled here. When she had first gotten the job as Camp Doctor, she had been worried that the food would not meet her exacting criteria. She had considered bringing her own personal chef, but she wanted to fit in with the convicts as best as she could. She had sat down for her first dinner expecting to be disappointed and been pleasantly surprised. The roast beef had been sulent and the erdroot had actually been moist instead of powdery. The two hadbined so perfectly with the beer that had she wondered where she was. This was prison fare?! She¡¯d burst into the kitchen to see the chef and run right into Bran, knocking him over and covering him with gravy. She was still a bit embarrassed about that to this day.


    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine Bran. Thank you for the dessert. Could I have another Radler, please?¡±


    ¡°Aye, one more Radlerin up. Yer gonna be the heaviest drinker in camp soon Opal!¡±


    ¡°Well, if you keep making such delicious concoctions what choice do I have?¡± The two of themughed as Bran went to pour her another drink. Opal watched him as he worked. He had lost a lot of his angry edge in the thirty years since they¡¯d started working together.


    Apparently, Bran¡¯s family had owned a caf¨¦ that catered to Gnomes. It was a strange upation for Dwarves, but Gold was Gold. The cafe was bought out by a gnomish consortium and his parents retired, but Bran had been upset. He¡¯d gone back to the caf¨¦ and thrown rocks through every window. He had been arrested and ced in the prison camp. As the only dwarf capable of cooking, he quickly became head chef. His indenture had ended over a decade ago, but he liked how much everyone in the camp appreciated his food. When she asked him about it, he¡¯d said: ¡°Nobody enjoys food like a Dwarf who spent all day mining fer gold he¡¯ll never own.¡±


    ¡°What gave you and Pete the idea for the Radler, Bran?¡± She asked, her mouth full of sweet dessert. ¡°And what on Erd did you add to this cream puff?¡± Bran made his way back with the tankard and ced it down on the table. He tugged at the braids in his beard before finally speaking.


    ¡°Ta be honest Opal, ¡®twas all Pete¡¯s idea. He let me have summa tha credit, but all I did was pour.¡± Opal arched her eyebrows as he continued. ¡°Tha cream-puffs avevender in em. That was Pete¡¯s idea too.¡±


    ¡°Oh? How many of the confections you''ve made recently have been Pete¡¯s idea?¡± Opal watched in amusement as Bran squirmed for a while before answering.


    ¡°All of em¡­ I made ¡®em and even improved on summa his crazier ideas, but they¡¯re all his recipes.¡±


    ¡°So I really have Pete to thank for all these delicacies?¡±


    ¡°Aye¡­ but! I made ¡®em all! Pete¡¯s an ok cook, but he¡¯s got nothin on me!¡± Bran protested.


    ¡°I see.¡± Opal decided to tease the chef a little. ¡°Well, I do appreciate a dwarf that¡¯s able toe up with so many wonderful recipes. He¡¯s so industrious and inventive!¡± Opal giggled internally as Bran grew pinker and pinker as she spoke. She was aware of his feelings, and the two of them had been dancing around the issue for years. She could tell that Bran was too ashamed of his past as an ex-convict to make any serious advances. She wasn¡¯t a noble or anything, but she came from a very prestigious family with a lot of Titled individuals. She had been raised to be one of the elites since birth, and her work here in the mines was merely a stepping-stone to higher things. Bran¡­ was an ex-convict child of restauranteurs. There was no real shame in doing time in a prison mine, but Opal knew the convicts rarely felt the same way.


    However, if she was honest with herself¡­. She quite liked Bran. Opal blushed a bit and hid it in her tankard. He was kind, well groomed, and had a sweet smell from all his work in the kitchen. He had a jollyugh and got along well with others. He was probably the most liked dwarf in the entire camp, even if you included Balin. However¡­ now was not the time. She had to focus on her work as camp Doctor until she was done her tenure. After that though, when she returned to Minnova? Maybe she would sit down and have a chat with Bran. For now, she had other more pressing concerns.


    ¡°Well Bran, Pete may have some good ideas, but it¡¯s your cooking I love.¡± Opal smiled brightly at Bran and he reddened further. ¡°If it means I get more Radlers and Lavender Cream Puffs I give you permission to let Pete use my personal supplies for any of his crazy ideas.¡±


    ¡°Are¡­ are ye sure? He was mentioning somthin about boilin beer and addin milk...¡± Bran¡¯s brow furrowed as he spoke.


    ¡°You have my permission. Let¡¯s see what Pete makes for us next.¡± Beer and milk? What in theher would that even taste like? Would it be¡­ sweet?

 Interlude 3: Glass works

    <h4>Interlude 3: ss works</h4>


    ¡°Allo! Wee to tha ssworks!¡±


    Ralph Ralphson of Ralph and Ralph ssworks turned to the door as the bell rang. He put down the piece of stained ss he was working on and looked at the customer standing on the other side of the counter. Ralph pulled at the long braids of his goatee as he put on a bright weing smile.


    ¡°Can I ¡®elp you?¡±


    The customer in front of him was different from his usual fare. Ralph was used to noblemen and clergymening for clear ss for their windows or the asional wine ss for a gnomish oligarch. He also had a few dwarvese in for a one-off or two, but that was about it. He had never had a gnomish tinker tradere in the door, and certainly never one that looked so¡­ wild.


    ¡°Do you do requests?¡± The gnome asked in a squeaky voice. He kept looking over his shoulder like he was afraid something.


    ¡°Aye, of course! What are ya looking fer?¡± Different customer or not, gold was gold! Ralph wondered why this Gnome looked so twitchy, was he a thief perhaps? Ralph raised his guard; he wasn¡¯t getting robbed today! His guard dropped as the gnome ced a vase upon the counter.


    ¡°I want a copy of this.¡±


    ¡°Aye?¡± Ralph examined the vase and flipped it over to look at the makers mark. ¡°Hmmm¡­. It¡¯s got a maker¡¯s mark from Kinshasa. I can make it. Any changes ya want made, or do ya want it ¡®as is¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ make it as clear as possible, lose the colouring.¡± The gnome pulled at his moustache as he thought.


    ¡°Aye, anythin else?¡±


    ¡°Can you add a handle? Like a tankard?¡±


    ¡°Uh.. yes?¡± What an odd request. Did the gnome n on drinking water from the vase? That struck Ralph as strange, but then Gnomes liked to drink weird things. They preferred their coffee and tea and juice to a proper brew. Ralph shuddered a bit, perhaps this was some new way of drinking leafy flower water. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    The gnome seemed deep in thought for a while. He hummed and hawed, while Ralph took the vase and began measuring it. This would be a simple order, and he could hammer it out before lunch. He was looking forward to meeting some of his mates in the bar for a game of hammercup soon.


    ¡°Add some etching. I want it to say, ''Whistlemop''¡±.


    ¡°Whistlemop?¡±


    ¡°Yeeessss¡­ No.¡± The gnome¡¯s voice grew firm. ¡°Official Whistlemug¡±


    ¡°Official Whistlemug?¡±


    ¡°Yes, in gold, with a drawing of me.¡± The gnome grinned a bit maniacally.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be a lot more expensive.¡± Ralph paused in his work. He could already see his early evening disappearing. He pulled out a note pad and began taking notes. This one was going to be a pain; he could tell already. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°On the other side put ¡®The best way to drink a beer¡¯¡±


    ¡°¡¯The best way to drink a'' - WHAT?!?¡± Ralph put down his notepad and stared. Was this gnome insane? Well, if he was, Ralph needed to ensure that he would get paid for this job. Far be it from him to stand between a gnome and a bad idea. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need pay up front.¡±


    The gnome stepped outside without a word. Ralph sighed in relief, that was possibly one of the oddest requests he had ever received. Why on Erd ¨C The gnome entered again with a small cart filled with bags. His eyes glowed with avarice as he ced a bag on the counter. It clinked and a few coins fell onto the wood. ¡°I sold everything. EVERYTHING. I don¡¯t want one. Make it a thousand.¡±


    Ralph stared as the gold rolled around on the counter in front of him. What was he getting himself into? Then again¡­ gold was gold. ¡°Alright, Mr. Whistlemop, you¡¯re the boss!"


    The gnome began tough, and Ralph soon joined him. Their cackles echoed down market street, disturbing a couple of sleeping cats, who yowled in protest.

 Interlude 4: The Grudge

    <h4>Interlude 4: The Grudge</h4>


    He sat under a table, nursing his eye and his grudge. This could not be, this would not stand!


    He drank from his tankard, and revelled in the taste of nostalgia, herbs, and millennia of dwarven traditions. A stick crunched between his teeth and added extra texture. The True Brew was perfect, and nothing could tell him otherwise. Every dwarf knew in their bones that beer was the greatest drink ever created, and nothing could improve upon it. Even Light Brew was a bastardization of the First Brewer¡¯s creation, let alone some swill made with lemon water! A tankard sshed down to the ground beside him, and the awful smell of lemon mixed with beer came with it. He shuddered, and his grudge grew deeper. Tim shut his eyes and tried to shut out the world; perhaps this was all a nightmare and he¡¯d wake up beside his beloved Sofia.


    For the umpteenth time tonight, Tim wished he¡¯d kicked the pot of syrup off the oven and drowned Pete in the beer. He pulled a hand-mirror out of his jacket pocket and nced at his face. His beard, his glorious beard that Sofia adored, shaved half-off. Tim could even see his chin beneath the stubble. To shave off another dwarf¡¯s beard was the most incredible of insults, and it hadn¡¯t slowed the brawl even a little. Not a single person had raised a hand to stop the carnage. He¡¯d been utterly alone in his misery. Even Pete, the Godsbedamned <i>bastard</i> that Tim had considered a friend, hadn¡¯t raised a finger to help. He glowered at the disfigured image before him, hating it just as much as he hated Pete right now.


    Oh, Sofia! How he missed her. How he needed her. Her breathtaking, supple curves. Her mahoganyplexion and amber highlights unmatched by any in all of Crack! Oh Sofia! There was nothing he loved more than to drip oil down her sides and rub it in; his fingers caressing leather as he inhaled her intoxicating and exotic scents. Truly, there was nothing better than his Sofia.


    Indeed, his desk had been more precious than his own life. He¡¯d poured every ounce of his spare gold, and even some of the city¡¯s own funds into her. Was it not important that the front desk clerk of City Hall show the power and majesty of Minnova? How better to do that than with fine woods and oils from the dungeon? He¡¯d showered Sofia with so much love that he¡¯d received the Blessing of Tiara! He¡¯d thought everyone in the City Hall would share in his joy!


    Instead, the Head Administrator had confiscated his desk and thrown him into this sted camp. Told him to ¡®learn some temperance.¡¯ This awful, wretched, <i>prison </i>that had spawned a threat to all that was dwarven. Tim¡¯s jaw grew tense as he stared deep into his hand mirror. He pulled out a belt-knife and began to shave. First the jaw, then the muttonchops ¨C first he shaved it short, then he shaved it off. When there was nothing left but a moustache, he shaved that off too.


    The image that stared back in the mirror was a stranger, a mockery of the dwarf he was. His Sofia wouldn¡¯t even be able to recognize him when he came home to her. Something inside of Tim <i>snapped</i>. <i>Pete</i> was the architect of all this. Pete, who seemed so nice. Pete, who pretended to <i>care</i>. Pete, who knew nothing about what it meant to be a dwarf and med in all on some convenient <i>amnesia. </i>But Pete was a liar, a <i>DECEIVER</i>.


    Even now the fighting continued. Good dwarves fighting over the very root of what it meant to be a dwarf. There were always fights, but they were small things, like:


    Who brought in the most ore that day?


    Who had the prettiest beard?


    Who was more poncy, elves or dragons?


    These were the everyday fightin¡¯ words of dwarves all around Crack; the days of Blood-Feuds were over! Yet today, he was witnessing a terrible thing ¨C a <i>real </i>fight over the taste of beer.


    Oh, Peter Samson may have them all fooled with his fop routine, but Tim knew the sharp mind that hid behind those zed eyes. Pete wanted to ruin what it meant to be a dwarf? Well, Tim would throw it all away, and then <i>stop</i> him. He would sacrifice <i>himself</i> so that no dwarf would ever need to fight like this again. He should¡¯ve realised it earlier ¨C with all Pete¡¯s strange words and mannerisms ¨C that a monster lurked in their midst. He giggled giddily as fear and righteous wrath warred in his heart. Oh Sofia, if only she was here! He would do this all for her! Even if it meant he might never see her again.


    There was a *Bing!* and a notification appeared.


    <strong>Blessing Granted: [Yearn]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>Your mortal curse has gained the notice of Yearn, who sees your empty heart.</i>


    <i>Fill it with vengeance and be a terrible enemy! </i>


    <i>If you receive Yearn¡¯s Blessing you will gain [Stealth] and [Sense Emotions].</i>


    <i>If you ept Yearn¡¯s Blessing you will be eligible for a Title!</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    Yes/No


    With a hooked smile, Tim mentally clicked on ¡®Yes.¡¯ His teeth shed as he went through the four Title options; his decision was simple and immediate.


    <strong>Title Gained: [Swindler]!</strong>


    <i>A [Swindler] can steal not only gold, but the spirit and spark of their mark. </i>


    <i>Just don¡¯t get caught!</i>


    <strong>Blessing Evolved: [Strength of All: Held] bes [Steady Hands]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>Your hands are firm and unshaking no matter the situation. Your charisma increases by 4 when bluffing, and you are immune to telltale signs of lying. </i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong>Blessing Evolved: [Stealth] bes [Distraction]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>A spirit divided is ripe for the taking. Your ill-gotten gains will cause problems unless you can keep attention elsewhere. Increases the chance that a mark will be distracted when they¡¯re talking to you. Keep in mind that you may need to set up the distraction yourself. </i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong>Milestone Gained: [Lost Reason]!</strong>


    <i>If you can¡¯t find a fool to rob, make your own! While you¡¯re working a mark, you can reduce their wisdom by four for an hour. Sessive uses on the same mark will increase the duration of the effect up to a maximum of eight hours.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once a day.</i>


    Beneath a table in the middle of a brawl, a newly Titled [Swindler]ughed andughed andughed.


    Nobody heard.

 Chapter 13: A Salty Balin

    <h4>Chapter 13: A Salty Balin</h4>


    I yawned and stretched; my arms still sore after yesterday¡¯s intense dive. I turned to my bunk mate and called out. ¡°Mornin! Time ta wake up!¡± A groan was the only reply as I jumped out of bed and shook myself awake. ¡°Rise and shine! Today¡¯s tha day!¡± I pulled on my clothes as Balin levered himself out of his bunk bed. Our small tent and bunk bedbo smelled faintly of bad B.O. and vomit. A collection of cloves and fruit in the corner were a gift from Bran after I¡¯d bribed him with a recipe for spiced tarts. The makeshift potpourri only partially helped.


    ¡°Yer too damn chippy in tha morning Pete.¡± Ballin blinked crusty red eyes. ¡°It¡¯s barely tha break o¡¯ day! I dunno how ya roped me inta this.¡±


    I went to the small basin, filled it with water and beganbing my beard. ¡°Because Annie got out five months ago and yer desperate. How ya doin?¡± There had been another Blessing partyst night with a in old cake, this time for a miner named Drawl. I didn¡¯t really know Drawl since I¡¯ve been so busy with ¡®The Project¡¯.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Jus¡¯ give me a moment.¡±


    ¡°Well good morning Fine, I¡¯m Peter, nice ta meet ya!¡± I gave Balin a chipper grin as I brushed in thest of the beard oil.


    ¡°Solen''s socks Pete, even after seven months I barely understand ya.¡± Balin lumbered over and washed his face in the basin.


    ¡°Especially this Barck-brained scheme of yers. I still don¡¯t understand what we¡¯re doin.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see today.¡± I pulled on my boots and squared my shoulders. ¡°Meet you at the pens!¡± Time to see if thest seven months were worth it! As I stepped out of the cabin into the eternal twilight of Minnova I gave my status a nce.


    Status: Provided by the Firmament Name: Peter Phillips Samson Age: 48


    Conditions: None


    Race: Dwarf


    Blessings: [Strength of All: Self], [Strength of All: Held]


    Titles: None


    Milestones: [Outworlder], [Power Pick]


    Strength 15.1


    Vitality 15


    Agility 11


    Dexterity 11


    Wisdom 12


    Intelligence 12


    Perception 13


    Charisma 10


    Quest Complete: A Friend in Need You did it! Good job!


    Gained: 0.1 Strength


    Quest: An Ore-Able Time Part 1/10


    You¡¯re stuck in a prison mine! Are you willing to mine your way to freedom?


    Collect 100/100 Tonnes of Ore


    Reward: [Power Pick]


    ept Quest? [Yes] / No


    Quest Complete: An Ore-Able Time Part 1 Don¡¯t you feel arm-azing?


    Gained: [Power Pick]


    Quest: An Ore-Able Time Part 2/10


    You¡¯re stuck in a prison mine! Are you willing to mine your way to freedom?


    Collect 33.3/200 Tonnes of Ore


    Reward: +0.1 Strength, +0.1 Vitality


    ept Quest? [Yes] / No


    Some subtle questioning of Doc Opal had revealed that quests appear to be unique to me. I suspect it may be the ¡°gain milestones and blessings more easily¡± portion of [Outworlder]. I tried [Power Pick] for the first time yesterday and it does what it says on the tin. I am HE-DWARF and my pick HAS THE POWWEERR!! My pick strikes can shatter mountains, or at least veryrge stones! Speaking of Blessings, I pulled up another two blue message boxes. It seems I¡¯m ¡®Mr. Popr¡¯ with the Gods this year.


    The first one was from a few months ago.


    Your dedication to gain the freedom of a friend from indenture has caught the attention of Aaron. Let freedom reign! Do you wish to receive His blessing? If you ept you will receive [Move in Aether] and [Sense Deals].


    Do you ept? Yes / [No]


    The second one was from yesterday.


    You have fully immersed your spirit in a new world and caught the attention of Midna. Let your spirit grow to touch the spirit of others, Otherworlder! Do you wish to receive Her blessing?! If you ept you will receive [Soulsight] and [Truespeech].


    Do you ept? Yes / No


    I clicked ¡®No ¡®on the new one, as I had with all of them since I received Tiara¡¯s blessing. So far, the only Gods I hadn¡¯t gotten a blessing from were Lunara, Barck, and Archis. I likely haven¡¯t done anything innovative enough for Barck, and haven¡¯t learned enough for Archis. Lunara I don¡¯t understand, haven¡¯t I been a model citizen of this new world? I dodged some dwarves headed to the mines as I made my way to the goat pens. We nodded at each other though one out of the trio glowered at me, the nerve! Bran had turned Radlers into a daily option on the menu and I was dwarf non-grata among some of the chain gang. It wasn¡¯t even my fault! Doc Opal was the one that suggested it! Alll those lessons had alsoted me an additional one intelligence; I did like being able to see the results of my hard work!


    ¡°Hello Piddles! Who¡¯s a good boy? You are! You are!¡± the unigoat pens were mostly empty with only the off-yellow unigoat remaining. I gave his coat a brush as I nced over at the reason I was here, arge trough sitting to the side of the goat pens. Balin and I had dedicated thest few months of our lives to that trough, and it had been a trough life.


    While I¡¯m not a mechanic and certainly no expert miner, I am an amateur chemist. You have to be if you want to be a sessful brewer or vintner. Many years ago, back when I was fiddling around with my first meads in university, I spent some time on Youtube watching chemistry videos. One that always stood out to me was of an American knee deep in chicken shit talking about making gunpowder. The video was about ¡°ensuring the government could never totally control violence¡±. Anyway, I thought it was really neat and tried making some gunpowder in my back yard. In retrospect I was probably on a list, but it was a lot of fun at the time! All I needed was some saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. I have intimate knowledge about a local supply of sulfur here in the mine, and charcoal is abundant, so all I needed was some saltpeter. Thankfully, there was a ready supply nearby!


    The required ingredients were some super ripe animal poop, some urine, straw, and some way to contain it. The goats were happy to provide the poop and straw. The dwarves, with some encouragement and lots of beer, were willing to move thetrine to the goat pens. Balin and I had to promise to keep the pens clean for a year, and I think he may resent me a little for that, but it will all be worth it¡­


    I was not nning to see what ¡°An Ore-Able Time Part 10¡± looked like!


    I checked the trough and it was gently steaming with a white crust on top. It looked ready to go! The mixture needed about 7 months or so to ¡®ripen¡¯ and we¡¯d been out here weekly or daily mixing and observing. While there was a massive amount of goat-shit here it wasn¡¯t actually going to provide too much saltpeter. Thankfully I only needed to do this once¡­. I hoped. Balin arrived at this moment with gumboots and a clothespin over his nose.


    ¡°Do you have the gloves?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aye.¡± He passed me some heavy gloves. Our next few steps were pretty dangerous so we needed to be careful.


    Balin and I began to shovel the white crusty top of the trough into a spigotted barrel. It held a good amount, and was only about half full after we were done. We added a bit of straw and then began to fill the barrel with water. Balin and I took turns stirring for the next few hours as other dwarves came and went to the mine, giving us strange looks. They couldugh all they wanted now; soon we¡¯d be unveiling a revolution in mining technology! Eventually we turned the tap and emptied the barrel into arge metal pan which we ced on a fire.


    Boil and filter. Boil and filter. Boil and filter. Eventually the only thing left was a clear fluid filled with crystals.


    That was when the blue box appeared again.


    Through hard work and dedication you have brought forth a hidden material and caught the attention of Tiara! She wishes to grant you her Blessing! If you ept you will receive a title!


    Do you ept?


    Yes/No


    I mentally clicked on ¡®No¡¯ and the feeling passed, but Balin began to glow. He closed his eyes, and a feeling of ecstasy passed over his face. He opened his eyes and stared at me.


    ¡°Peter! We did it! I got a Blessin for it!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions!¡± We danced and hugged for a moment before we broke apart in disgust. Both of us were covered in feces and reeked. ¡°We did! It¡¯s not perfect, but it will hopefully be good enough for the next steps!¡± We danced for joy; seven months of raking through goat poop, and we had been suitably rewarded!


    ¡°So, what is this stuff, what did ya call it? Salty Peter? Why¡¯s it named after you, couldn¡¯t we call it Saltbalin?¡± We both paused and considered that before we shuddered. ¡°Mebbe not.¡±


    ¡°Yup! It¡¯s also called Potassium Nitrate!¡± I smiled at the result of our months of hard work: A collection of white crystals in a metal pan.


    ¡°Ah, Potassium Nitrate! Right right. Wait¡­.¡± Balin¡¯s eyes grew clouded, and he grabbed my shoulder. ¡°Didja say Potassium Nitrate?¡± His grip tightened, a far off look in his eyes.


    ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s up Balin, that hurts!¡±


    ¡°Follow me, Pete.¡±


    Balin led me a little-ways away from the camp, closer towards the side of the cavern wall. There was arge cave mouth there that was separate from the main mine. He led me inside and we activated the solstones on our ever-present mining helmets. The inside of the cave was FILLED with a white powdery substance on the floors and walls.


    ¡°Wow! A saltpeter mine! I can¡¯t believe this is here!¡± I gaped as I looked around, if there was this much potassium nitrate, we¡¯d be fine for years! We didn¡¯t need to do that stupid trench anymore!


    We¡­


    Didn¡¯t¡­


    Need¡­


    I turned to look at Balin, who was advancing on me with murder in his eyes.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Are ya¡­ Salty, Balin?¡± I gulped. Then I ran; eleven agility, don¡¯t fail me now!

 Chapter 14: Pete the Dwarf

    <h4>Chapter 14: Pete the Dwarf</h4>


    ¡°So.¡± Doctor Opal asked as she applied some poultice to the swollen eyes of the dwarf in front of her. ¡°What did you do this time?¡± She was sitting at her usual spot in the mess hall. There were no emergencies in any of the mining camps, and she was having her usual afternoon sweets. A half-empty tankard in front of her smelled faintly of lemons.


    Pete smiled sheepishly at her. ¡°I ran into a door.¡±


    ¡°With both eyes?¡± She asked, raising an eyebrow. She daubed some more poultice and Pete winced.


    ¡°With both eyes.¡±


    ¡°Does this have anything to do with why Balin set fire to that awful dung trough you two have been working on?¡± Opal held down a smile on one side of her mouth. Her close-cropped white beard twitched as she fought a full grin. This afternoon had been quite the spectacle. The trough had been an inferno, with mes roaring nearly ten meters high. Balin had been lucky to not get seriously burned. That hadn¡¯t stopped him from prancing around the trough screaming ¡°BURN YA TIARA DAMNED DUNG HEAP, BURN!¡± It had been an entertaining sight for the few dwarves that had been around to see it happen. Most were going toe back from their daily mining expedition to find nothing but a pile of smoking wood and some antsy goats. Balin probably should have let the unigoats out before he lit a bonfire next to their stables, but he clearly hadn¡¯t been in his right mind. Thankfully nothing else was damaged.


    ¡°Kind of¡­¡± Pete looked downcast, the near blinding optimism of the past few months gone from his face. ¡°I messed up a little.¡±


    Opalughed outright at that. ¡°A little! I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen Balin that upset, and you¡¯ve been moping like a broke gnome since you got here! What happened?¡±


    ¡°I wasted a lot of our time. The trough did what it was supposed to do, but I didn¡¯t realize what I needed was already avable.¡± Pete lookedpletely crushed, as he clenched his fists a few times. ¡°I cost Balin a lot of time and effort, all because I thought I knew better than everyone else. I should have just ASKED.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ever since you recovered you have been a bit standoffish.¡± Opal nodded, as she reached over and grabbed a strawberry off a te. ¡°All ¡®the beer is bad¡¯ this and ¡®there¡¯s a better way¡¯ that. It has been a bit grating.¡± Pete flushed, an amusing sight with two ck eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I thought¡­. I don¡¯t know what I thought.¡± Pete looked lost as he rubbed at his neck. ¡°I have all these ideas and all this knowledge, but I can¡¯t use half of it.¡±


    ¡°Because everyone would thump you for trying?¡± She had gotten a good thump or two in herself over the past several months. There had been that disaster with the msses, and don¡¯t even get her started on the noodle incident... Opal shuddered, no need to remember that!


    ¡°No. I just don¡¯t quite know how to do most of what I want to try. I¡¯m wasted without a chemistry kit, or a brewery or winery to work with.¡± Pete grumped, thumping his forehead on the table. ¡°I feel like I have this great opportunity to do good in the world and I¡¯m just not cut out for it.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re whining Pete, not a good look on you.¡± Opal tutted. ¡°Besides, that¡¯s a bit quixotic isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Pete¡¯s voice came out muffled from his face down position on the table. ¡°Can you tell me ¡®Peter, Peter pumpkin eater, hit the world and make it cry?¡¯¡±


    Opalughed. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s something my wif ¨C it¡¯s something someone very important to me used to say. It was my battle cry for when things started to go pear shaped.¡±


    ¡°Well Peter, if it will make you feel better. ¡®Peter, peter, pumpkin eater, hit the world and make it cry!¡¯¡± Opal delivered the line with all the panache she could,ying a hand on Peter¡¯s head and peering imperiously down at him. Then she couldn¡¯t stop herself fromughing till she nearly fell off the bench.


    ¡°Thanks Opal, that did help a bit.¡± Pete smiled back at her.


    ¡°Hahaha! Why a pumpkin eater? Was that your job back where you came from? It¡¯s no Title I¡¯ve ever heard of!¡± Opal wiped some tears from her eyes as she continuedughing.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a rhyme, don¡¯t worry about it. ¡°


    ¡°Well Peter, if it¡¯ll make you feel better, I did hear Balin got a Blessing out of your little escapade.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nothin much¡­¡± Pete groused.


    ¡°Nothing much!¡± Opal stared at Pete agog. ¡°It can take decades of hard work to earn a Blessing! It¡¯s something every mortal strives for! A mere six or seven months of hard work for a Blessing is nothing!¡± She patted Pete on the shoulder. ¡°Balin will realize that when he calms down. He really came out ahead in this whole thing.¡±


    ¡°That does make me feel a bit better.¡± Pete took a deep breath. ¡°You¡¯re the best Opal.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Pete. Now begone, I want to finish my snacks in peace.¡± Opal shooed him away.


    ¡°Doctor¡¯s orders?¡±


    ¡°Doctor¡¯s orders, shoo!¡± Pete made his way out of the mess hall, a spring back in his step. Opal watched him go and tapped her finger on the table. She hoped Pete got some good luck soon. At the same time, her stomach hoped that Pete and his unending supply of sweets recipes would be stuck in this prison for a long, long time.


    ---


    I could always trust in Doc Opal to make me feel a bit better. She was the smartest dwarf in this whole mine, and it showed; she was right, of course. Our time hadn¡¯t been a waste. Balin had gotten a Blessing, and I¡¯d spent thest six months learning everything I needed to know about my new life.


    I¡¯d made some new friendships with Tim and Wreck and Sam, and I wasn¡¯t going to let a little thing like ¡®wasting the past six months of my life¡¯ get in the way of all that. Besides, the saltpeter mine would run out one day and I had proven that there was another way to get it. That was more than enough for me!


    I paused for a moment, as something else Doc Opal had said kicked in. I have been a bit standoffish. Maybe it¡¯s because I see dwarven society as a bit backwards and stuck in tradition. The part of me that¡¯s still Pete from Canada feels like the old guard needs to ¡®move outta the way¡¯! That¡¯s the wrong way of looking at it. In many ways dwarven society is a lot better than what we had back home. I shouldn''t be judging it, I should be doing what I can to fit in first. I¡¯m a dwarf now, and I need to dig deep into my heart and fully be the dwarf my mother raised me to be!


    No need for self-delusion though, my mother was a newfie hippie, not a dwarf. Love ya mom, wherever you are.


    I could start byying off the ''bad beer'' and ''bad BO''ints. It doesn''t endear me to anyone and doesn''t further my goals. It was time to take a different tack. Rather than solving this as an outsider, I would work from within the system. My original n had been to go to Annie''s and start a revolution in beer. That n needed to change. I would start slow and take my time getting to know the dwarven brewing process. I''d make a few small changes and get the dwarves interested in the possibility of different brewing methods first. Just like Annie had thought, even a small thing like better carbonation could be a big change without being a ''revolution''.


    Your charisma has increased by 1! New charisma is 11!


    My feet bumped against a door, and I realized that my musings had brought me back to my cabin. I couldn''t hear anything inside, but I knocked just in case.


    ¡°Hey Balin, you in there buddy?¡± There was a moment of silence before a forlorn voice came through the flimsy wood.


    ¡°Aye, Pete. Come on in.¡±


    ¡°Listen, I wanted to apologize for stringing you along thest few months. I really thought this was the only way to get what I wanted.¡± I swung open the door and stepped inside. It was dark so I flicked on the light, a small solstone hanging from the center of the ceiling, and opened the shades. Balin was curled up on his bed, facing the wall.


    ¡°Nah, I overdid it Pete. I¡¯m sorry. I should ¡®ave been happier ¡®bout getting a Blessin. I was just a bit miffed that I spent half a year scrapin goat shit fer nuthin.¡±


    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I don¡¯t think the time was wasted. The mine won¡¯t provide enough Potassium Nitrate if my ns take off.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the trough was a good proof of concept, and we can say it works fer sure.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good ta hear. What¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°I asked Tim to get us some charcoal and gave him what spare silver we had. He¡¯s running some supplies for Grim.¡± Poor Tim, it¡¯s been weird having a beardless dwarf around. Everyone else has been avoiding him since he started shaving it, and I feel a bit bad about it. It got cut during the Radler brawl, and I guess the loss drove him a bit crazy. Maybe a year or two or ten will help him get over it, and he¡¯ll regrow a good old-fashioned dwarven beard. I brushed my own and shivered at the thought of losing it.


    ¡°That¡¯s good. Is there enough silver left fer the rest?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡± The silver came from our ¡®pay¡¯. Each month we were all given a small portion of our earnings to spend on personal items. The rest went to our indenture.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s talk about the next n then.¡± Balin turned and slid out of his bed. I looked at his face.


    Then I started to wheeze, guffaw, and thenugh the deepest bellyugh I¡¯d had all year. I could feel my anxiety and worry melting away with thatughter. Balin stood there, dumbstruck as Iughed andughed.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± He demanded, grabbing a mirror. ¡°Arrrrggh, me face!¡±


    ¡°You only have half an eyebrow! And your moustache! Iughed harder.¡± One of Balin¡¯s eyebrows had been scorched clean off, and the other only had half remaining. His handlebar moustache looked like a burnt candle wick.


    ¡°This is all yer fault Pete! Annie loves my moustache!¡±


    ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t start the fire! You did, and she ¡®loved¡¯ your moustache! Past tense Balin!¡±


    For the second time in a day I was chased by my friend, but this time it was all in fun.

 Chapter 15: Eh

    <h4>Chapter 15: Eh</h4>


    I sighed as I finished plinking my pickaxe against the wall. Balin came over and took the ore I had mined and ced it into a pair of sacks.


    ¡°How¡¯s the charcoal goin, Pete?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Oh, right! I gave some silver to Tim.¡± I paused, confused for a moment before I remembered. ¡°I think it wasn¡¯t quite enough, so we¡¯ll need to wait until our next pay.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s too bad.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I was lookin forward to it.¡±


    ¡°Is it that thing ya were talkin about? Tha minin tool?¡± A rosy cheeked dwarf with an enormously bushy and curly red beard asked. His beard was almost as big as he was, and I think all the dwarves in the mine were jealous of it. His curly red hair could barely be contained in his mining helmet.


    ¡°Yep. I tell you Sam, it¡¯ll be a real banger when it¡¯s done!¡±


    ¡°If ya say so Pete. Be careful though! I¡¯ve got 5 silver on you two not dyin before its done.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ll be fine ¨C wait.¡± I paused, slowly turning an arrested gaze in Sam¡¯s direction. He continued picking obliviously at the wall. ¡°Is there a betting pool on us dyin?¡± Those ingrates! Here I was working towards making mining a better job for dwarves everywhere!


    ¡°In ma defense, I put money on you livin.¡± Sam chuckled and I turned back to my work while Balin lugged the sacks up the dive tunnel. Sam had arrived in the camp about 4 months ago. He was put in prison for ¡°repeatedly breaking noise ordinances¡±. He¡¯s been in and out for that reason for centuries. All the mining personnel already knew him, and he¡¯s good friends with Speaker John. I love him for another reason though.


    ¡°So how are ya doin today, Sam?¡± I put my pick down and wiped some sweat from my brow. Mining was hot and hard work!


    ¡°Eh, I¡¯m doin alright.¡± Hee! Sam says ¡®Eh¡¯ more than a Manitoba farmboy! When I¡¯d first heard it, I¡¯d had a sudden intense pang of homesickness, but now it¡¯s more a warm dose of nostalgia. His giant red beard and slight prairie ent meant I got spend all day with a squat, friendly, lumberjack.


    ¡°d to hear it, let¡¯s keep it that way. st iin!¡± I readied a [Power Pick] by focusing my thoughts into the pick. The pick began to glow with a grey light before I brought it down on the wall. With an ear-splitting *CRACK* an enormous portion of ore was sted off the wall. I was pelted with a few stones, but nothing bigger than a pebble. The glow on my pick petered out, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to use it again for around another 5 minutes. [Power Pick] is a fairlymon milestone, and using it enough could things like [Fast Power Pick] or [Infinite Power Pick]. It¡¯s not a skill I¡¯d choose to build on though, not if I have the power to pick!


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you and Balin got yer Blessins in less than a year here.¡± Sam griped, as he helped me shovel rock powder into bags. ¡°Ya know it took me nearly fifty years in the Mine ta get my Blessin.¡±


    ¡°That long?¡±


    ¡°Aye, turned ¡®er down though! Hah!¡± Sam had a deep bellyugh. He was the only other dwarf I knew that had turned down a blessing. Apparently, it wasn¡¯t toomon.


    ¡°Why didja turn it down?¡± My shovel got stuck in a mound of stone dust and I struggled to lift it out. Tiara¡¯s teats, you¡¯d think dust would be light, but it¡¯s still rock!


    ¡°Eh. I didn¡¯t want anythin¡¯ from Tiara. All her Titles and Milestones are about bein greedy fer stuff or fightin¡¯. I¡¯m a lover! Not a fighter! An I don¡¯t want to spend all me days in the mines. This is just a sacrifice fer my art!¡± He struck a pose. Sam is a titled Maestro; that¡¯s someone who is blessed by Solen of Freedom and Midna of Communication. As for how he¡¯s an artist?


    Bagpipes. He ys the bagpipes. That¡¯s also why he¡¯s in prison.


    To be honest, I LOVE the bagpipes. I¡¯ll take a lovingly rendered Auld Lang Syne any day of the week, and I¡¯m an afficionado of the band Dropkick Murphys. Dwarvish bagpipes take it to the next level though. I think it¡¯s the giant gouts of fire and the fact that you can hear it in your bones. I¡¯d actually taught Sam some of ¡®Scond the Brave¡¯ and that was partly how we¡¯d hit it off so well. Apparently, bagpipes are seen more as an ¡®instrument of war¡¯, like a bugle, and there aren¡¯t too many dwarves that treat it as an art form.


    ¡°I can see Midna, but how did you catch Solen¡¯s attention?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I broke outta the prison about a dozen times. They always brought me back, but it was enough!¡± The two of usughed, and then continued working. After a few shovels Sam began to hum and I soon joined him. The sound of Scond the Brave soon echoed down the tunnel.


    Hark when the pipes are bawlin


    Hear hear yer buds a callin,


    Loud and proudly callin,


    Down through the dive.


    There where tha caves are sleepin,


    Now feel yer heart a-leapin,


    Strong as the soul,


    Of every Dwarf alive.


    The proud words of Robert Wilson, adapted by yours truly for dwarven society. We continued like that for a while until the sound of footsteps broke up our duet.


    ¡°Can you two keep that racket down! I swear all o¡¯ Pete¡¯s singing was bad enough, Sam! Now yer doin it too!¡± Sam and Iughed and soon Balin joined in. He didn¡¯t actually hate our singing. We were pretty good, if I do say so myself!


    ¡°You should learn the words and join us Balin!¡± I said.


    ¡°Ay,e on, don¡¯t be a stick in the mud, Balin!¡± Sam smacked him on the back and Balin shook a fist at him.


    ¡°If ya keep askin, I¡¯ll do it, and then you¡¯ll both regret it!¡± ording to Wreck, Balin had serenaded Annie at one point. Neither of them ever spoke of it, and Wreck¡¯s only exnation was a haunted look in her eyes. Maybe we¡¯d stop asking Balin to sing¡­.


    ¡°By tha way, our shifts about done! Grim saide on up.¡± Balin said as he grabbed the bags we¡¯d filled.


    Sam arched his back with a *crick* as I collected all our tools. ¡°Ach, sweet freedom, thank Solen! I¡¯m getting too old ta be down these tunnels!¡±


    ¡°Maybe if you stopped yin yer pipes at midnight, they¡¯d stop throwin ya in prison!¡± I joked.


    ¡°Nah, they¡¯re just jealous o¡¯ my panache. Everyone knows city hall is full of crotchety bureaucrats and stuffed up nobles.¡±


    ¡°Shush! You don¡¯t want to add insultin a noble to yer charges Sam!¡± Balin said with panic in his eyes.


    ¡°Ach, who cares Balin? Those fops are gonna get what¡¯sin to them one day. You mark my words!¡±


    The three of us marched up the dive tunnel while Balin and Sam bickered about royalty. It was good natured, if a bit pointed. Balin¡¯s a bit of a royalist and Sam thinks they¡¯re unnecessary with the city council and administration. He believes that your average dwarf deserve better representation. I really want to teach him the wonders of a parliamentary democracy, but I only really have the strength in me for one revolution right now. Viva Beerevolution!


    We arrived up at the surface and met up with a few other miners. We all said our ¡®hello¡¯s, did a headcount to ensure everyone was still kicking, and then the whole grumble made their way over to the mess hall. It was bacon and egg sandwiches for lunch today, and I was ravenous. I don¡¯t know how Bran manages to make so many different kinds of delicious sandwich, but I tip my hat to the master!


    As we walked, Wreck fell in alongside Sam, Balin, and myself.


    ¡°How was yer day? Did Sam break you all with his singin¡¯ yet?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Oy!¡± Sam cried in a tone of faux hurt. The rest of usughed.


    ¡°Actually, Pete¡¯s been teachin¡¯ him some songs. Both of them won¡¯t shaddup!¡± Said Balin. There were some general notes ofmiseration from the other miners as we made out way into the mess hall. There were two kegs of beer, one of which had a little picture of a lemon affixed to it. I noticed that nearly a quarter of the dwarves chose to drink from the Radler barrel. There was also a marked reduction in angry remarks or mutterings. I think the mining crew has grown a bit more used to the idea.


    Over the past half a year I had put a lot of thought into why there was such a big reaction to the Radler. The first problem is that beer is a major part of dwarven tradition. Dwarves are very n and ancestor oriented, which means they consider heirlooms sacred. Add some fairlyplex racial tensions to the mix and it means that beer is something of a racial institution, like maple syrup or hockey. Altering beer was like altering the constitution, or conting football with football.


    The second problem was that I wasn¡¯t actually a brewer! Bing a registered Brewer was as close as a dwarf could get to a Title without actually receiving one. They are as respected as an Engineer or Doctor would be back on earth without the God mumbo jumbo added to the mix. Some families have been Brewers for literally thousands of years! Amateurs just DON¡¯T mess with beer here, like you wouldn¡¯t even dream of trying to y at real Doctor. That¡¯s why there¡¯s no craft brewers.


    Of course, on the other end of the spectrum you have dwarves like Wreck. I noticed she had poured herself a tankard of the regr beer. As we sat down at the table together, I caught her attention.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like the Radler, Wreck?¡±


    ¡°I told ya Pete. I don¡¯t really like lemons.¡±


    ¡°Ya like regr beer, eh?¡± Sam asked. He had a tankard full of Radler and had sworn by it since the first time he drank it. Leave it to a dwarf like Sam to go all in on something new.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s just beer. It tastes better than water but it¡¯s only a drink. I don¡¯t see why everyone is so worked up.¡± Wreck replied. At the other end of the table a couple of dwarves stared at her incredulously and shifted slightly down the bench.


    Right, there was a third camp of dwarves that simply didn¡¯t care. They were a minority, but some of the Dwarves didn¡¯t have any real attachment to beer in the first ce. Weirdos. We ate the rest of our food interspersed with chats about the daily dive and the ¡®trough incident¡¯. Then Balin caught everyone¡¯s attention and pulled us all in conspiratorially.


    ¡°¡¯Ave you noticed that Bran seems off?¡± He asked in a hushed tone. We all turned to look over at the kitchen window. Bran was handing out sandwiches, but he did indeed look a bit¡­. Off. His regr good-natured smile was gone and he barely acknowledged the ¡®hello¡¯s and ¡®thankee¡¯s he was getting.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go check. I want to talk to him anyway.¡± I picked up my now empty te and made my way over. ¡°Hey Bran? Why the raisin face?¡±


    ¡°Oh Pete.¡± Bran turned to look at me. ¡°I¡¯m just a bit worried. Opal¡¯s sick.¡±


    Eh?

 Chapter 16: Coddled

    <h4>Chapter 16: Coddled</h4>


    ¡°So, how is she doing?¡± I asked. Sam, Wreck, Bran, Balin and myself were all clustered outside of Doctor Opal¡¯s Cabin.


    ¡°It¡¯s a cold.¡± Said Bran. ¡°She started coughin this mornin and she was out of it by lunch time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m goin in to check on her.¡± said Wreck. She opened the door and stepped inside. The rest of us moved to go in as well but Wreck spun around and firmly shut the door in our faces. ¡°Alone!¡± she hissed as the door closed. ¡°Opal doesn¡¯t need a bunch of gawkers!¡±


    The rest of us stood around bereft for a moment.


    ¡°How bad is it?¡± Sam broke the silence.


    ¡°A slight fever, but nothin really bad.¡± Bran replied.


    Phew! I had been worried about her since Bran looked so down. I guess in a world with magical healing and God given Doctors, illness isn¡¯t as scary. Of course, being sick sucked no matter what. There was something I was curious about though. I posed the question to Sam, since he seemed to be most likely to know.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t she just get the Healer to fix her? What was his name, Bastion?¡±


    ¡°Aye, she could.¡± Sam nodded. ¡°It would be expensive though. Not worth it for amon cold. Healers are always busy. She¡¯ll be better before he even has time to see her.¡±


    That made sense. Even in our world you wouldn¡¯t go to the doctor for themon cold. Well, unless it got really bad, or your 2-year-old was up all night with hacking coughs. I felt a little mncholy at that. I haven¡¯t really thought of Caroline and Samantha recently. I guess that¡¯s why I got the Blessing for my ¡°spirit adapting fully¡± or whatever. I do still miss my family, but I just don¡¯t have time to dwell on it. I have a new family, new goals, and I had no real regrets from myst life.


    ¡°So, what¡¯ll she do? Is there anyone watchin over her?¡± Sam asked. ¡°No need to leave her alone, eh?¡±


    ¡°She said that she¡¯d be fine. I tried goin in, but I know nothin about helpin sick folk.¡± Bran said, a note of depression in his voice. ¡°She said ¡®I¡¯m the Doctor here Bran, I¡¯ll be fine.¡¯ I just wish there was somethin¡¯ I could do.¡±


    While I was distracted with thoughts of my old family, the rest of the group finished up their discussion and started to head back to the mess hall. It seems that Wreck was going to stay behind with Opal. Honestly, it was kind of sad that there wasn¡¯t anything we could do for Opal. She always worked so hard taking care of us. Then something tugged at my memory; my wife sick in bed and her smile when I made her favourite medicine.


    ¡°Yain, Pete?¡± Balin asked, as he tapped me on the shoulder.


    ¡°Oh, sorry Balin. I was just thinking.¡±


    ¡°Uh oh.¡±


    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s not that bad! My ideas are all great!¡±


    ¡°My moustache would disagree?¡± Balin scowled, and he twirled the scorched strands of his moustache as he glowered at me.


    ¡°Hey, no matter what, all the time we spent on the saltpeter trough was kind of great.¡±


    ¡°What? How.¡±


    ¡°Because it was grating.¡± Samughed and Balin grinned, but Bran just groaned.


    ¡°I pray daily that the Gods strike you down.¡± He grumped.


    ¡°Well excuse me, Bran! Here I was thinking about sharing an old recipe that I thought might help Opal.¡± I scoffed. ¡°I guess you won¡¯t be wanting it then!¡±


    Bran suddenly grew a bit more contrite. ¡°Did I say strike you down? I meant that I pray daily for your good health and happiness! Do you really have a new recipe for me Pete? Somethin that¡¯ll help Opal feel better?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s something I made for my wi- for a friend.¡± I was thinking of an old recipe that I used to make for Caroline. I¡¯d made it for the first time while we were still engaged, and ever since then it was something she asked for whenever she was sick. It was an old British drink called a Caudle. ¡°Well, let¡¯s go to the kitchen.¡±


    ¡°What are we making?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to ruin some beer!¡±


    ¡°Not again!¡± Balin sobbed.


    ¡°What do you mean again?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see! Follow me!¡± I pointed in the direction of the mess hall and headed towards it, a skip in my step.


    ---


    ¡°I have nightmares of thest time this happened¡­.¡± Balin muttered.


    The four of us were wearing aprons and standing in the kitchen, with a pot on the stove and a keg of beer on the counter beside us.


    ¡°Oh hush, it went perfectly!¡± I said as I poured some beer into the pot.


    ¡°Tim lost his beard, and half the camp got injured!¡± Balin protested.


    ¡°Tim¡¯s fine.¡± I replied.


    ¡°Nothin about that dwarf is fine¡­¡± Sam muttered.


    I ignored the three of them, I had Caudle to cook! There were a couple variations on the drink, and I figured I would start with the one that was the heartiest.


    ¡°Alright Bran, I¡¯m going to get started.¡±


    ¡°Aye Pete, what do ya need first?¡± Bran had a little recipe book and began to take some notes as I gave instruction.


    ¡°First I¡¯ll need some eggs and sugar.¡±


    ¡°Sugar again¡­¡± Balin muttered.


    ¡°Help or get outta the way Balin.¡± Bran pushed Balin aside and got the eggs out of the cooler. He pointed Balin towards the sugar.


    I poured a few cups of beer into the pot and set it to boiling. Then I cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking. ¡°I¡¯ll need some breadcrumbs too.¡±


    ¡°Got it!¡± Sam grabbed a nearby loaf and began crumbling it into a bowl. ¡°So, what are we makin?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a drink called Caudle.¡± Caudle is an interesting drink that sounds vile when it¡¯s first described but tastes quite nice. It has roots in Ennd in the early 1300s where it was originally given to mothers suffering from post-partum pain. Over the centuries, it was made for anyone who got sick. It¡¯s most likely where the word ¡°coddled¡± came from, as you would bring Caudle to those who were suffering. I was going to make a slight variation on it that included a bit of bread for added texture and nutrients.


    ¡°Do we need fish? Fish oil is good fer the sick.¡± Bran scratched his head.


    ¡°What?¡± I paused in my mixing.


    ¡°Ya said it¡¯s got Cod in it.¡± Sam pointed out.


    ¡°I heard that too.¡± Balin nodded.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s just called Caudle. It doesn¡¯t have fish in it.¡±


    ¡°Dunno why you¡¯d call it that if it doesn¡¯t have fish in it.¡± Bran said as he scribbled more notes.


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s weird.¡± Balin and Sam nodded in agreement.


    I grumped, ¡°Am I making this or not?¡±


    ¡°Not is better.¡± Balin quipped.


    ¡°Anything more Pete?¡± Bran and I ignored him as we continued working.


    ¡°Yeah, I need some cream, salt, and saffron if you have some.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s saffron?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a spice.¡± Come to think of it, Saffron is sometimes called the most expensive spice. I seriously doubt they would have any in a prison camp. ¡°Do you have nutmeg? That will work too.¡±


    ¡°Aye, got it.¡± Bran opened up the cupboard and pulled out some containers while Sam grabbed the cream. The three of us watched the pot as it came to a simmer and I poured the eggs and cream into the beer.


    ¡°The first stop in Caudle is to add some cream and eggs to warm beer or wine.¡±


    ¡°Oh, if it uses wine is this an elvish recipe then?¡± Bran asked.


    ¡°Makes sense.¡± Balin said. ¡°Elves are weird.¡±


    I ignored them, whisking until the beer mixture turned foamy.


    ¡°Next you add some breadcrumbs or oatmeal, and sugar. Something starchy and something sweet.¡± I mixed in the breadcrumbs and the sugar and whisked a while longer. ¡°Finally, a sprinkle of salt and some spices!¡± I added a pinch of nutmeg and salt and give the mixture one final whisk. It was roughly the colour of caramel and had a milky, foamy texture.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t look half bad. I¡¯m a fan of a milk and beer, and that¡¯s milk WITH beer!¡± Sam actually smacked his lips.


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit it does look tasty.¡± Balin said.


    ¡°It smells quite sweet. I think Opal will love it. Makes people feel better you say?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. I made enough for everyone to try, so give me some tankards.¡± I poured out 5 mugs and everyone stared into the milky foam of their mugs with trepidation.


    ¡°It smells like nutmeg.¡± said Balin, after taking a sniff. Sam and Bran did the same.


    ¡°Alright, bottoms up! Cheers, eh!¡± Sam held up his tankard and we all clinked mugs. There was a brief moment of silence broken only by the faint sound of chugging. Then four dwarves took a satisfied gasp at the same time.


    ¡°It¡¯s delicious!¡± Said Bran.


    ¡°I could get used ta this!¡±


    ¡°Opal will love it!¡±


    ¡°It has a light and fluffy texture that makes it easy to drink, but enough body that it feels like eating a meal.¡± Bran rubbed his beard, now with a slight patina of milk foam. ¡°The sugar makes it sweet and easy to drink while the bitterness of the beer keeps it from bein too much like a dessert.¡±


    ¡°Aye, it feels nice and warm in the stomach, and the alcohol helps settle ya! It¡¯s perfect for rxin!¡±


    ¡°I need to get sick more often!¡±


    ¡°Alright! I¡¯m d you all like it.¡± I calmed them down and grabbed the remaining tankard as Sam¡¯s hand reached for it. ¡°The rest of it is for Doc Opal. Bran, do you want to take it to her?¡±


    ¡°Aye Pete, thanks!¡± Bran grabbed the tankard and made his way out of the kitchen.


    Hopefully Opal would be better soon and things would go back to normal.

 Chapter 17: Charcoal

    <h4>Chapter 17: Charcoal</h4>


    ¡°Pete, any word on the charcoal?¡±


    ¡°No, not yet Balin.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, what¡¯s takin¡¯ so long!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we have enough silver yet. I¡¯ll talk to Tim.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t know why we asked him to do it! He was embezzlin¡¯ from City Hall!!¡±


    ¡°Tim¡¯s a reformed dwarf! Isn¡¯t that the whole point of this mine? I choose to believe in him.¡±


    ¡°You just feel sorry that he got shaved at yer Blessin¡¯ party.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with a clean shave. He has a very distinguished cleft-chin.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe that.¡±


    ¡°Noment. He¡¯lle through.¡±


    ¡°Hrmmm¡­.¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Tim! How¡¯s the charcoal supplying along?¡±


    ¡°Hey, Pete! Sorry I haven¡¯t been around. I¡¯ve been dealin¡¯ with inventory for Grim. What do ya need?¡±


    ¡°Charcoal?¡±


    ¡°Right. I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have any good news. The supplier wants more silver.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t I already given you¡ª¡±


    ¡°It just isn¡¯t enough yet, Pete. You don¡¯t know how all this works. My hands are tied by higher powers. It¡¯splicated getting supplies out here, and charcoal is expensive now that Greentree is closed. Did you hear?¡±


    ¡°No, what happened?¡±


    ¡°A lot of monster movement and big mushfolking out at the fringes. It¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Wow. Is the city safe?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s talk about a possible monster stampede. Anyway, just bring me next month¡¯s silver and I¡¯ll deal with it.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ *sigh* fine. Thanks for the help, Tim.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Pete. What are friends for? I¡¯ll see you at the mess hall, it¡¯s steak for dinner tonight!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Thanks for the caudle, Peter! It helped a lot!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wee, Opal! I¡¯m d you liked it!¡±


    ¡°Any luck with your venture?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, I¡¯m just waiting for thest few pieces to fall into ce.¡±


    ¡°Make sure you give some more recipes to Bran before you go.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely, I¡¯m rooting for you two.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°Nevermindexcusemebye.¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Hi, Tim!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Pete! Sorry, I can¡¯t stick around. Runnin¡¯ an errand for Grim right now.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something I need to talk to you about.¡±


    ¡°Is it important, or can it wait?¡±


    "It¡¯s important to <i>me</i>! Where¡¯s my charcoal!?¡±


    ¡°Geeze, Pete! I¡¯m working my tail off here and doing your shopping on the side. There¡¯s no need to get all mad at me because things aren¡¯t working out! It¡¯s not <i>my</i> fault.¡±


    *Sigh* ¡°Sorry, Tim, I¡¯m just... starting to get antsy."


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, Pete. I understand, and I forgive you. I sent off thest bit of silver, and I promise that I¡¯ll let you know as soon as I hear back from the supplier.¡±


    ¡°Can I help with anything?¡±


    ¡°No, no, I¡¯ve got it handled. You focus on you. By the way, are you up for another game of hammercup after dinner? You wonst time, so I want my revenge!¡±


    ¡°Sounds great! You¡¯re goin¡¯ down!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better practise, or I¡¯ll crush you with my new technique!¡±


    ¡°Will do!¡±


    ¡ª


    *ping* Our pickaxes rang in the darkness of the dive.


    ¡°Why are ya still stickin¡¯ around here, Pete? Didn¡¯t ya have a grand n to get out?¡±


    *ping*


    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯re still waiting on our charcoal, Sam.¡±


    *ping*


    ¡°Eh? Just nab some from a [Peddler] the next time onees through.¡±


    *ping*


    "We already put a lot of time and money into asking Tim to do it. It should be arriving any day.¡±


    *ping*


    ¡°Pete¡­ That¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Pass me that sack, would ya?¡±


    ¡°Aye¡­¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Alright, Pete. Here¡¯s your monthly silver.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Grim!¡±


    ¡°What have you been using it for? I know you two¡¯ve been squirrellin¡¯ it away for your grand n.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! We need it to buy thest ingredient for our experiment.¡±


    ¡°What on Erd do ya need that much silver for? I¡¯ve given ya at least a full two months¡¯ pay since ya finished with that Tiara-damned trough! You said you needed some sulphur ¨C I¡¯ve got some set aside ¨C and Balin was yellin¡¯ about ¡®salt-somethin¡¯. What else do ya need?¡±


    ¡°Charcoal.¡±


    ¡°What? You¡¯ve been waiting for that!? I can just get you some in a few days, Pete!¡±


    ¡°What!! Really!? Then why have I been waitin¡¯ so long!?¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong><i>Stat Increased: [WIsdom]!</i></strong>


    <i>Your wisdom has increased by 1! Your new wisdom is 13!</i>


    ¡°Aaron¡¯s Arse, Pete. If it gets you out of my camp even a day sooner, I¡¯m more than happy to get you all the charcoal you need! Just leave your silver with me and I¡¯ll deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks so much, Grim!¡±


    ¡°Aye. There¡¯ll be a bit of a dy cause of tha¡¯ new year, but I¡¯ll have it to ya within the week. Now get out.¡±


    ¡ª


    I stepped out of the mining office ted but confused. I pped the sides of my cheeks a few times and considered washing my face. Why had I gotten a bonus to wisdom just now? Then my eyes widened.


    Charcoal! I had charcoal! I was finally going to make some gunpowder and get out of this prison and into a proper brewery! Huzzah! I practically skipped down the hallway and ran into Tim as Iunched myself out the door.


    ¡°Sorry, Tim!¡±


    ¡°What are you jumpin¡¯ around for? You got the silver for this month?¡± Tim put out his hand. I paused for a moment, confused, then was immediately distracted ¨C I had great news to share!


    ¡°Yeah, I got my silver, but more importantly!¡± I smiled massively and struck a pose. ¡°Grim is gettin¡¯ me charcoal!¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Tim cried. For a moment, shock and anger seemed to y across his face. I blinked, because that couldn¡¯t be right. Then he smiled and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m happy for you! What¡¯s your next step?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a secret!¡± I put a finger up to my lips. ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful with corporate spies!¡±


    ¡°Corporate spies? This is a <i>mine</i>.¡± Tim quirked an eyebrow and rubbed at his hairless jaw. His bald chin still gave me the willies. Maybe it was a left-over reaction from previous dwarf Pete, or a wonky atavistic factor like with arachnophobia. Either way, Tim didn¡¯t deserve my scorn or distrust over something silly like a shaved beard ¨C even if it did make him look like Lex Luthor with a mullet!


    ¡°I¡¯ll see youter, Tim!¡±


    ¡°Alright. So long, Pete.¡± Tim turned around and left. It may have been my imagination, but it looked like he was scowling as he went into the mining office. Ah well, I had more important things to worry about, like the creation of gunpowder!


    I practically floated on air down to the mess hall for dinner. Atst, after so many months of waiting, I had charcoal! I passed Sam on the way and waved at him to follow me.


    ¡°I got what I needed, Sam!¡± I patted him on the shoulder as he fell into stride beside me.


    ¡°Really? Opal was finally able to getcha a decent sense of humour? That¡¯s great!¡±


    ¡°Hardy har.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m d it worked out. Remember that I got money on you not dyin¡¯, so stay safe.¡± Sam smiled, but he was limping and I noticed a slight tear in his thick leather trousers. I slowed down and he paused to catch his breath.


    ¡°Speaking of ¡®staying safe,¡¯ are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Just got caught in a small rockslide on a dive. Nothin¡¯ big, but my leg did get pinned. I have [Sense Danger] so I got out of the way in time. Balin and Wreck pulled me out.¡± Now that I looked more closely, he did look a little shell-shocked.


    ¡°Did you break anything?¡±


    ¡°Nah, just some cuts and bruises. Maybe a small sprain. Nothin¡¯ to worry about, eh?¡± Sam struck a pose. ¡°I¡¯m one of the strongest dwarves around! Don¡¯t ya worry about me, son!¡±


    ¡°d to hear it.¡± At this point the two of us reached the mess hall and we made our way inside. Now that I had charcoal it was time to start phase two of making gunpowder with poop: the crapshoot.


    I had a slight problem. Well, it was more of a <i>big </i>problem that could be solved with time and experimentation ¨C I couldn¡¯t recall the exact ratios required to make gunpowder. I knew that saltpeter, sulphur, and charcoal were the main ingredients, but not how much of each to add to the mix. I was going to need to try a bunch of different ratios and pray I¡¯d stumble on the correct one. I was literally shooting in the dark with crap. I lost over seven months so far, and I hoped I wasn¡¯t going to spend another seven ying with measuring cups. Sam poked me, and I realised that I¡¯d reached the front of the dinner line.


    ¡°Hi, Bran. What¡¯s for dinner?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got some roast serpent along with gravy and chitlins and some mashed erdroot.¡±


    The te of food was incredibly appetising. The roast serpent looked like a perfectly circr beef steak with a slightly orange tint to it. It was well marbled, and had a single bone in the centre ¨C probably the spine? The gravy was dark brown and steaming, and it smelled like Thanksgiving. Caroline always made the most incredible turkey, and I swore her stuffing was superior even to grandma¡¯s. I¡¯d probably never have another Thanksgiving again... As for the rest of the meal, erdroot was boring and I wasn¡¯t a fan of chitlins. They were really healthy, but I just didn¡¯t like eating something that once contained poop. <i>Especially</i> after the past year.


    ¡°No vegetables?¡± I asked, as he finished spooning the erdroot onto my te.


    ¡°<i>You</i> want a bnced diet? Drink yer radler. It¡¯s got plenty of vitamins.¡± Bran pointed at the radler barrel.


    ¡°Ah yes, the dwarven food groups. Malt, meat, cheese, fruit, and beer.¡±


    ¡°Not fruit and beer. It¡¯s fruit <i>with</i> beer.¡± Bran grinned at me, and I grinned back. He leaned in and whispered to me through a cupped hand. ¡°I mixed turnips into tha¡¯ erdroot. Don¡¯t tell anyone.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I nodded back, sagely. I still couldn¡¯t believe that Bran had to <i>trick </i>the entire camp into eating their vegetables. There were never simple veggies on the side. It was always some veggies hidden in a sandwich under a b of roast beast and coated in sauce. It amazed me that every dwarf didn¡¯t have gout after a couple hundred years of this diet. ¡°Anyway, can I borrow the measuring cups we talked about?¡±


    ¡°Oh, are ya finally ready to get started?¡±


    ¡°Yep, I can probably start as soon as next week!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions! Somethin¡¯ to kick off the new year!¡±


    ¡°Right, Grim mentioned that too. It¡¯s the new year, huh¡­.¡± I took my te and made my way to our regr table.


    It had already been a full year since I arrived on Erd. How time flew. It felt like just yesterday I was still ying chess with Sammie, or cuddling with Caroline on the couch while we read books and drank wine. I chuckled as I remembered my first day on Erd, when I had sprayed beer all over Balin and Grim. Now Balin was the closest friend I¡¯d ever had, and Grim still couldn¡¯t wait to get rid of me. I had a mentor in Opal, arade in Bran, a friend in Tim, a gruff and affectionate uncle in Sam, and a cautious co-worker in Wreck. I¡¯d carved a ce out for myself, and obtained new goals and new skills. Where there had been a hole in my heart at the start of the year, there was now the start of a warm andforting feeling.


    I was soon surrounded by friends at the table as we discussed our future ns and current gossip. Sam and Balin got into an arm-wrestlingpetition as Wreck and Doc Opal talked about beard oil. We discussed ns for the new year celebration, and our resolutions for next year. After a half-hour Tim joined us and we got into a rousing game of hammercup. We were joined by a couple other miners and soon there was a whole cheering squad. Sam crushed all of us, and some cups. I still think it¡¯s a terrible game and a waste of good tankards. I needed to teach everyone some Earth drinking games before I left. We ended the night with a toast. Nearly a dozen tankards rose in unison.


    ¡°To the Firmament!¡±


    ¡°To charcoal!¡±


    ¡°Fer the ancestors!¡±


    ¡°Fer Crack and Minnova!¡±


    ¡°I want a Blessin¡¯ too, dammit!¡±


    I clinked tankards with Tim and the two of us nodded at each other before we took a deep drink; him of regr beer, and I of radler. Indeed, it was good to have friends! Next week I would start mixing gunpowder and then it was just a matter of time until l was free to explore this fascinating new world.

 Chapter 18: Boom?

    <h4>Chapter 18: Boom?</h4>


    Today¡¯s the day. I got time off of work from Grim, and more importantly?


    I have charcoal! Tim brought in my supply of charcoal along with a ton of sulfur. I knew getting his help would pay off!


    So now I¡¯m sitting in the kitchen with some measuring sses and a bunch of bags of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. The next step is to ¨C


    ¡°BY THE UNHOLY YAMS OF YEARN! WHAT IN THE NETHER ARE YA DOIN IN THE KITCHEN WITH ALL THIS DIRT AND SHIT?!¡±


    ¡°Sorry Bran.¡±


    ---


    <i>20 minutester</i>


    I¡¯m sitting in my cabin with some measuring sses and a bunch of bags of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. The next step is to ¨C


    ¡°BARCKS BEARD PETE, WHY ARE YA STINKIN UP OUR ROOM?!¡±


    ¡°Sorry Balin.¡±


    ---


    <i>20 minutester</i>


    I¡¯m sitting at a table in themon area of the camp with some measuring sses and a bunch of bags of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. The next step is to ¨C


    ¡°TIARA¡¯S TEATS PETE, DIDN¡¯T YA SAY THIS STUFF WAS DANGEROUS? GET OUT OF THE CAMP!¡±


    ¡°Sorry Grim.¡±


    ---


    <i>20 minutester</i>


    I¡¯m sitting at a makeshift workstation far away from the camp with some measuring sses and a bunch of bags of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. The next step is to ¨C


    I paused and looked around. No dwarf appeared to angrily demand my immediate eviction, and the only sound was the beating of my excited heart. Alright! It was time to get cracking on my escape n! That¡¯s right, I never nned on using gunpowder to earn enough silver to end my indenture. I was always nning to st my way free from this prison and then escape to the town where I would smash into a bank and then steal enough gold to live the next 400 years in peace.


    Muhahahahahahaha! The fools have handed me their own doom! DOOM!


    I put some saltpeter into the first measuring pot and sighed. No escape from Alcatraz for boring old Pete. As much as I wanted to use my ¡®superior technological knowledge¡¯ to get all OP and stuff, I found it unlikely to seed. I strongly suspected that a police force that had a teleporter and who knows what other crazy magic was way above my ability to deal with. Besides, there was a good chance I¡¯d make actual long-term money with gunpowder.


    I¡¯ve thought a lot about the ethics of bringing gunpowder to a world like this. I know the creator of dynamite was so distraught about the death his invention brought that he started the Nobel Prize. The Winchester gun guy''s wife went simrly insane and built a crazy house. Honestly though, I didn¡¯t think I needed to be too worried. Let¡¯s say Minnova develops mass arms and then puts a thousand guns in the hands of some dwarven infantry. The magic of guns is that they can turn a simple civilian into a killer with next to no training so it would be easy to do. There was just one big problem: real magic exists.


    I¡¯ve had a lot of opportunities to watch events down at the dungeon, and stuff gets crazy down there. I¡¯ve seen lightning strikes, earth spikes, fireballs, tornadoes, water dragons, you name it. Simply put, guns and gunpowder are never going to be an instrument of death here. They¡¯re simply too inefficient. Those thousand dwarven soldiers with guns would run into one [Mattershaper] or [Stormcaller] and they¡¯d all be toast. Bullets would bounce off shields and the mages could kill hundreds in an instant.


    Plus, Tiara¡¯s Blessing gives strength to ¡®held¡¯ and ¡®worn¡¯ items, and bullets don''t count. Apparently, there¡¯s a simr problem with arrows, which means bows and crossbows just aren''t used outside of hunting for food. Adventurers here are melee or magic, full stop. Finally, I did some reading and learned that monster acids and other terrible alchemical items make pistols look like a joke when ites to murder.


    On the other hand, nobody is going to put a [Mattershaper] in a mine! That¡¯s where mass produced gunpowder could really pay off. Honestly, I¡¯m may be missing some possible source of death and destruction, but I''de up with enough evidence against that to salve my conscience. I want out of this prison, and gunpowder was my ticket out. Please be good, world!


    So, I sat down and got a trio of containers. I filled one container with saltpeter, another with charcoal, and thest with sulfur. The first step was to grind these down and then measure them out into portions.


    I paused.


    ---


    <i>20 minutester</i>


    I¡¯m sitting at a makeshift workstation far away from the camp with some measuring sses and a bunch of bags of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur and a MORTAR AND PESTLE. The next step is to grind each of the threeponents into a fine powder. First, I scooped the saltpeter into the stone bowl and began grinding. Honestly, it¡¯s kind of rxing. There¡¯s a groove to it, where your arm finds just the right motion and then you can watch everything turn into dust. After around 10 minutes of grinding my arm didn¡¯t even feel tired and I wondered anew at my high vitality. Being a dwarf is AWESOME!


    After the first saltpeter grinding, I dumped the resulting white powder into a separate bucket. I was going to try a couple different mix ratios so I¡¯d need a lot of saltpeter. As such, back to grinding! The grinding of the pestle and the psychedelic purple light of the cavern brought to mind an old Judas Priest song. I started a more rhythmic pounding with the pestle and started singing to the beat.


    "Grinder


    Make gold for Pete


    Grinder


    He wants to eat"


    Soon I had all the saltpeter I needed, and after carefully cleaning out the bowl and the pestle with a soapy bucket, I started on the charcoal. Over an hour had passed, and even my muscly arms were starting to get tired. I decided to push through and finish the charcoal before taking a break. I waited MONTHS for this charcoal and I wanted it done yesterday. My arms were burning at the end, but I got all the charcoal done. I wiped the sweat from my brow and sat down in a heap.


    I stared up to into the stars of the ¡®sky¡¯ and thought about my future. I didn¡¯t n on bing some kind of mining magnate. I wanted to brew beer. No matter where gunpowder goes, I¡¯m not going to let it take over my life. I¡¯ll probably just leave it all to Grim and ask him to stick any excess gold into my ount. He¡¯s a stand-up guy, and he¡¯d probably appreciate the chance. Maybe Tim, if Grim can¡¯t do it.


    ¡°How¡¯s it goin¡¯ Pete?¡±


    I looked up, startled, as Balin appeared before me like magic. Which in a world with real magic is an incredibly stupid statement. ¡°Just some grindin Balin, do you want to do it?¡±


    ¡°Not with you.¡± Balin eyed the buckets and pots with wariness. ¡°Will I need ta shovel that saltypeter again?¡±


    ¡°No, I did that already, there¡¯s just the sulfur.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t want to work with tha stuff that almost killed ya?¡± Balin winked at me. ¡°I understand. Let yer good friend Balin do it fer ya.¡± He walked over and began scooping sulfur into the mortar.


    ¡°AHHHH!¡± I screamed.


    ¡°What!?¡± Balin stopped with a jerk.


    ¡°Clean that first! You¡¯ll kill us both!¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?¡±


    I grabbed the mortar and doused it in the soapy water and began rubbing it down. ¡°I have been talking about how this works for months, Balin!¡±


    ¡°Pete, I¡¯m a carpenter, not an Alchemist, I dunno how this stuff works.¡± He paused and seemed struck by a terrible realization. ¡°YOU WERE MAKIN IT IN OUR ROOM?!¡±


    ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing.¡± I muttered petntly. To be fair, that had been a terrible idea. Then something he had said caught my attention. ¡°There¡¯s alchemists?¡±


    ¡°Changin that subject¡­. Aye, there¡¯s titled [Alchemists].¡±


    ¡°Do they change lead into gold and stuff?¡±


    ¡°Not unless they want every miner in Crack toe an murder them. They mostly make potions and salves and such. What yer¡¯ doin here looks a lot like alchemy to me.¡±


    Huh. Well, maybe I could make a book on modern chemistry and sell it to the alchemists. Then again, world of magic, so everything I know could bepletely wrong. I took out the mortar, dried it and handed it back to Balin. ¡°Here, now do it. We are making a low explosive, that means that each of these ingredients can react violently with each other. We have to be really careful and make sure nothing gets bumped or mixed when we don''t intend to.¡±


    "Thank ye fer tha exnation." Balin took the bowl, filled it with sulfur and began grinding. I had to show him the technique but he picked it up quick. My man Balin is a quick learner, and good with his hands. Annie will be pleased. By his hard work. At the brewery. Heh.


    ¡°Have you heard from Annie, Balin?¡± I asked as I turned my eyes towards the purple glow of the city. We couldn¡¯t see Minnova from where we were, but the glow of the central crystal was an ever-present reminder of where ity.


    ¡°Nah, can¡¯t get visits in the prison mine. I¡¯d need ta wait until the next visitation day.¡±


    ¡°When¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Five years.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°Sam¡¯s bagpipes wreck yer ears? I said five years.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I heard you, I just thought that was insane. Five years?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s normal. Most of us are out before that though.¡± Balin paused and shook his shoulders. ¡°By my beard this is tough work Pete!¡±


    ¡°Whining about physicalbour? Are you an elf?¡±


    ¡°Shaddup!¡± We grinned at each other and he went back to work. Soon there was a third bucket full of ground sulfur and it was time to start.


    The next step was the most dangerous. It was time to mix the three ingredients together. One misstep and the entire mixture could go boom right between my fingers. I admit that I was shaking a little bit.


    ¡°How are we doin for time Balin?¡±


    Balin shrugged and thought for a moment. ¡°I came right after me shift. We missed lunch, thanks fer that, so we¡¯ve got about an hour or two till dinner.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even trying to hit lunch, so I don¡¯t mind if I missed it.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Just give me the mortar, Balin.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know the exact ratio I was going to need, so I started by putting the saltpeter into a measuring cup. Then I stared at the cup.


    ---


    <i>20 minutester</i>


    I¡¯msittingaamakeshiftworkstationfarawayfromthecampwithsomemeasuringssesandabunchofbagsofsaltpeter,charcoal,andsulfur,amortarandpestle, and A SCALE.


    By the Firmament, I¡¯m bad at this.


    You do chemistry portioning with a scale, not measuring cups.


    I don¡¯t know the exact ratios so I was going to start with a 33/33/33 then do a 50/25/25 and finish off with a 75/12/12 for each of the different ratios. If it wasn¡¯t one of those then this was going to take forever. With shaking fingers, I added some water to the mortar along with some carefully weighed portions. Then I started grinding. If something was going to go wrong, it was going to happen here, explosively. The water helped lower the chance of an explosion, and makes the gunpowder into a paste.


    The first set of ratios went off without a hitch and I started the next one. It took the rest of the hour as Balin watched in trepidation with the asional. ¡°You got this Pete!¡± and ¡°Don¡¯t die, Sam has money on ya!¡± I finished three sets of 50/25/25 and started on the 75/12/12s. When Ipleted the final mix, I heard a *bing* and a blue box appeared before my eyes.


    <i>You have created an incredible new invention that can change the world! You have caught the attention of Barck and he wants to give you his Blessing! If you ept you will receive a Title.</i>


    <i>Do you ept?</i>


    <i>Yes</i>


    Huzzah! That message means that I got it right! It must have been the 75/12/12! I mentally clicked on ¡®No¡¯ and turned towards Balin. ¡°Balin! We did it!¡±


    ¡°Are ya sure? Nothin happened?¡±


    ¡°I know it must have! I got a Blessing from ¡ª¡±


    In the corner of my vision, a blue box began to blink.


    <i>You have created an incredible new invention that can change the world! You have caught the attention of Barck and he wants to give you his Blessing! If you ept you will receive a Title.</i>


    <i>Do you ept?</i>


    <i>Yes</i>


    Didn¡¯t I hit ¡®No¡¯, on this? Why was there no ¡®No¡¯? What was happening? As I watched, the blue box changed again.


    <i>You have created an incredible new invention that can change the world! You have caught the attention of Barck and he wants to give you his Blessing! If you ept you will receive a Title.</i>


    <i>Do you ept? You have 10 seconds to choose:</i>


    <i>Yes</i>


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Somethin tha matter Pete?¡±


    ¡°I ¡ª¡±


    <i>9</i>


    ¡°Balin, somethin¡¯s wrong!¡±


    8


    ¡°Are we gonna die? I don¡¯t wanna die, I finally got a girlfriend!¡±


    7


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t hit no on this Blessing!¡±


    6


    ¡°Who hits no on Blessins?¡±


    5


    "Sam does!¡±


    4


    ¡°Sam¡¯s a loony bard!¡±


    3


    ¡°I turned down all the Blessins, I want Archies!¡±


    2


    ¡°Wait, ALL the Blessin¡¯s? How many Elfin Blessins have you turned down Pete?¡±


    1


    ¡°NOOOOO!!!¡±


    <i>You have epted the blessing of Barck!</i>


    ¡°Arrrgghhh!!!¡±

 Chapter 19: Title Drop

    <h4>Chapter 19: Title Drop</h4>


    ¡°Pete? Peeete. Peter?¡±


    ¡°Go away Balin.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I can do that, but tell me you¡¯re alright first.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I just need some space.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll head to the mess hall. Youe tell me when you¡¯re ready to talk.¡±


    ¡°Ok. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°I dunno what¡¯s goin on, but I¡¯ll keep it between us. Don¡¯t worry.¡±


    Balin stood up and left me where Iy, staring at the stars. I had fallen to the ground and I wasn¡¯t nning to get up.


    Ever.


    I looked up at the blue boxes in my vision, uprehending.


    <i>You have epted the Blessing of Barck! You have gained </i>[Regeneration] and [Good Luck!]


    <i>Your Vitality has increased by 1</i>


    <i>Your Perception has increased by 1</i>


    <i>Your Blessings from Barck and Tiara can be merged into a Title!</i>


    <i>Do you want to gain a Title?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    What just happened? I¡¯d finished making gunpowder, and I¡¯d gotten the Blessing I¡¯d half expected. I¡¯d hit ¡®no¡¯ because I wanted magic and I needed Archis¡¯s Blessing for that. Instead of vanishing, the prompt had instead <i>forced</i> the Blessing on me.


    I rolled around on the ground and screamed into my helmet.


    WHERE WAS MY CHOICE!?


    Opal had been very clear in her lessons that the single thing the Gods were always constant on was choice. Choice about Blessings, choice about Titles, choice about Milestones, choice choice choice.


    SO WHERE WAS MY CHOICE, BARCK!?


    <i>You have epted the Blessing of Barck! You have gained </i>[Regeneration] and [Good Luck]!


    What WAS this shit? Is it an Otherworlder thing? Had I run through my allotment of allowed ¡®no¡¯s? Was Barck just the absolute ASSHOLE of the gods?


    <i>You have epted the Blessing of Barck! You have gained </i>[Regeneration] and [Good Luck]!


    NO, I DIDN¡¯T!!!


    I rolled around on the ground and screamed into my helmet a bit more. I did have the presence of mind to avoid bumping into any of my bowls full of gunpowder. Just because I was royally pissed didn¡¯t mean that I¡¯dpletely lost my head. Honestly? Screaming into a metal helmet full of beard is a great stress reliver. I¡¯ve used a pillow before but it wasn¡¯t quite the same. The acoustics of the helmet were just perfect.


    Eventually I sat up with a sigh and nced over at the harbingers of my doom. The seven pots full of gunpowder mix sat demurely on a table, unaware of the great crime they had brought upon me. My chance for magic, gone. I couldn¡¯t believe it; I pinched myself, then bit my tongue. Ow! Nope, not a dream, there goes that hope. Seriously though, what just happened? Opal waspletely serious when she talked about choice and the Gods.


    Could this¡­ get me in huge trouble? Am I cursed by the Gods and so they removed my choice? I don¡¯t think I should tell anyone about this ever. I hope Balin is on the up and up. If he went back to camp and told everyone, ¡°Pete got a Blessin¡¯ forced on ¡®im by Barck¡± I could get the dwarvish inquisitioning after me! I never expected the dwarvish inquisition! I think Balin¡¯s got my back, and he did say he¡¯d keep mum, so I¡¯ll trust him for now.


    <i><i>Your Blessings from Barck and Tiara can be merged into a Title!</i></i>


    <i>Do you want to gain a Title?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I contemted hitting ''No'' as a screw you to Barck. However... Would that mean I could never have a title? I didn''t even know Titles existed a year ago, but I knew they were important.


    Well, I guess I¡¯m getting a Title.. I have to hope that there was some reason for this madness. Maybe I¡¯m destined to save the world and the Gods have chosen me? By my beard I hope not. If anyonees and tells me I¡¯m the chosen one, I¡¯m going to choose the other direction. It¡¯s clear that I¡¯m here for one reason and that¡¯s to save dwarvenkind from bad beer. If a demon king shows up to start the apocalypse, I¡¯ll invite him to the pub and we can have some drinks until it all blows over.


    Might as well get this over with. I mentally clicked on ¡®Yes¡¯. With a *bing* another blue box appeared, followed by four more.


    <i>Congrattions!</i>


    <i>Please choose two Blessings tobine into a Title!</i>


    <i>Tiara of Matter and Barck of Spark</i>


    <i>[Strength of All: Self] and [Regeneration] willbine into the Title [Immortal]</i>


    <i>An [Immortal]bines a strong body with incredible regeneration.</i>


    <i>An [Immortal] stands on the front lines andmands others with a strong voice and undying flesh. </i>


    <i>Would you like to be an [Immortal]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>Tiara of Matter and Barck of Innovation</i>


    <i>[Strength of All: Self] and [Good Luck] willbine into the Title [Alchemist]</i>


    <i>An [Alchemist] is a master of the material world andbines a strong body with stronger luck.</i>


    <i>An [Alchemist] can craft and brew mixtures that can heal, harm, or bring about miracles.</i>


    <i>Would you like to be an [Alchemist]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>Tiara of Possessions and Barck of Spark</i>


    <i>[Strength of All: Held] and [Regeneration] willbine into the Title [ver]</i>


    <i>A [ver] has a strong whip and a stronger life force that grants the ability to dominate others.</i>


    <i>A [ver] can turn the spark of another into their own possession.</i>


    <i>Would you like to be a [ver]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>Tiara of Possessions and Barck of Innovation</i>


    <i>[Strength of All: Held] and [Good Luck] willbine into the Title [Gambler]</i>


    <i>A [Gambler] trusts in the heart of the cards they hold, but are able to make their own luck.</i>


    <i>A [Gambler] gambles not only with Gold, but can gamble with Fate itself.</i>


    <i>Do you wish to be a [Gambler]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    Opal never really went over all the different Titles. I¡¯m not sure she even knows all of them. Honestly, I kind of tuned out anything not rted to magic, and I¡¯m regretting it now. Seriously, a [ver] that makes people into possessions? Tiara, you¡¯re one scary Goddess.


    I slumped into the chair I¡¯d lugged out here, because this was going to take a while. I needed to examine this from a couple of different perspectives. Did I get a Title here because the Gods have some deeper n for me, or is there something else at y here. Why Barck in particr? I never had this happen with all the other Blessings. Was there something special about Barck?


    First is [Immortal] and I¡¯d be lying if I said it didn¡¯t appeal to me. Just the name makes it sound incredible, let alone the description. <i>Undying flesh? </i>Hell yeah! If I¡¯m going to live in a world with magic and monsters and I wasn¡¯t going to get magic, then a Title that increases my survivability sounded like a pretty hot deal. I bet the ability to get easy Milestones would allow a Title like that to snowball pretty hard. I¡¯ll put [Immortal] in the ¡®likely¡¯ pile for now.


    Next was [Alchemist] and this one feels a bit too¡­ on the nose. ¡°Can craft and brew mixtures¡± would sound like a dreame true under other less <i>forced</i> circumstances. Plus, I can only imagine what a ¡®miracle¡¯ beer would look like! Could I craft beers that count as potions? Could I use magic ingredients to create magical beer for people who got ACTUAL GODDAMN MAGIC, BARCK?! Either way, this ss feels the most like ¡®me¡¯ and I¡¯ll put it on my ¡®under protest¡¯ pile.


    [ver]¡­ do I even consider it? I don¡¯t know how I feel about something like [ver] being an actual Title with powers granted by the Gods. Aaron is the God of Freedom, so it kind of makes sense that there would also be an aspect of the Gods that opposes that. It¡¯s interesting that Aaron is a God of Freedom, but Tiara isn¡¯t actually a God of tyranny or anything like that. Opal mentioned that the Gods are a reflection of ¡®society¡¯ so I wonder if that simply means modern society values freedom far more than bondage. Depending on the bondage, no kink shaming here. I think I¡¯ll put this in my ¡®never¡¯ pile. Even if it was out of spite at this entire situation, I don¡¯t think I could live with myself if I became a [ver].


    Finally, there was [Gambler], and here was the difficult choice. First off, the reference to ¡®heart of the cards¡¯ was kind of bugging me. Were these messages based on my own memories? I used to think they were standardized, but that felt really personal. The alternative is that the Gods just made an Earth pop culture reference and that has some ufortable connotations. Anyway, I loved myself some mahjong or poker, and I could always beat Caroline and our friends. A Title dedicated to making me rich could be just what Doc Opal ordered. However, what was really catching my eyes was that a [Gambler] could gamble in ¡®Fate¡¯ with a capital ¡®F¡¯.


    If Fate is a thing here, I strongly suspected I wanted nothing to do with it. Nothing good coulde of putting ¡®Otherworlder¡¯ and ¡®Fate¡¯ together in the same sentence. Would bing a [Gambler] trap me in some terrible fate, or give me the power to avoid it?


    I decided to do what all sensible men, uh dwarves, will do when put into a conundrum like this. Go ask a woman.


    ---


    ¡°[Alchemist] or [Immortal].¡±


    ¡°Are ya sure? What¡¯s wrong with [Gambler]?¡±


    I was currently standing at the Goat pens with Doc Opal. She had just arrived back from a call to one of the other camps and I was helping her remove all the tack from a grey coloured unigoat.


    ¡°It has terrible connotations, and can result in ruin just as much as sess.¡±


    ¡°What about this ¡®Gamble with Fate¡¯ thing?¡±


    ¡°Grim has me on standby for your ¡®Spontaneous Combustion¡¯ so I believe you gamble with fate already.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Opal smirked.


    ¡°I could always grab [ver]. Maybe put a cor on Bran and have him beg for recipes?¡± I asked as I unbuckled one of a dozen buckles.


    ¡°If you pick [ver] I will stop being your friend.¡±


    ¡°Aw, we¡¯re friends?¡±


    ¡°To my dismay, that appears to have be the case.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Opal.¡± I grunted and heaved as the two of us removed the saddle. We moved it into the tack closet and took a moment to catch our breath. Opal turned to me with a questioning gaze as we locked the unigoat in a paddockbeled ¡®Dusty¡¯.


    ¡°I admit to being confused by this. I thought you wanted the Blessing of Archis.¡±


    ¡°Uh, I decided I wanted [Regeneration]. It sounded too good to pass up.¡± I attempted a bald-faced lie and I regretted it instantly, Opal deserved better, but I was really spooked by this whole thing.


    ¡°True, you do tend to walk a razor¡¯s edge.¡± Opal eyed me, but she didn¡¯t seem to suspect anything.


    ¡°So, your rmendations are [Alchemist] or [Immortal] then?¡±


    ¡°Yes. [Immortal] is a popr title due to the vigor it provides. Many greybeards are Titled [Immortals], and it is a trusted Title. [Alchemists] can get a bad name if they mess with poisons or toxic fumes, but potions are always in high demand. Also, I think you¡¯d have a gift for alchemy.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­. Alright. Thanks Opal.¡±


    ¡°Take some time to think on it, and congrattions!¡±


    ¡°Yaaaaaaay.¡± I gave a half-hearted cheer and made my way back to my gunpowder station.


    I wasn¡¯t going to think on it. I¡¯d made my decision. I¡¯d made it even before I talked with Opal, but she¡¯d helped mee to terms with myself.


    I nced over at one of the blue boxes and with a firm feeling in my heart, I mentally clicked on ¡®Yes¡¯.


    With a jolt, the powers of an [Alchemist] flowed into me.

 Chapter 20: Boom!

    <h4>Chapter 20: Boom!</h4>


    So. I¡¯m an [Alchemist] now.


    That means I am currently sitting in my room with a radler staring at a wall. Why? Because I don¡¯t want to spend another hour looking at blue boxes. It turns out when you get a Title ites with some big benefits plus the choice of a Milestone, and I don¡¯t particrly feel like making another big decision right now. I was kind of bummed out. I was doing my best to put a smile on my face and power through things, but I really wasn''t doing my best. My dreams of magic had likely just been snuffed out, and I was possibly on some God''s hitlist.


    ¡°So, tell me again. You¡¯ve been gettin Blessins for months?¡± Balin and I were currently sitting in our room. He¡¯d brought me a te of dinner that was sitting half-eaten on my bedside table.


    ¡°Aye, nearly everyone but Archie and Lunara.¡±


    ¡°Archie?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Archis.¡± By my beard, I''m just <i>full</i> of opportunities for sphemy charges today, aren¡¯t I?


    ¡°And ya turned ¡®em all down?¡± Balin¡¯s voice was filled with incredulity.


    ¡°All of ¡®em. I wanted Archis¡¯s Blessin, because I wanted to learn magic.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Balin paused and scratched at his head for a while. ¡°That makes some sense. All the dwarves I know with magic are Blessed by Archis.¡±


    ¡°I want it too. So, I turned them all down.¡±


    ¡°Then you got Barck¡¯s Blessin.¡±


    ¡°Then I got Barck¡¯s Blessin.¡± I sighed and took a drink of the radler. Gods, I wanted a stronger drink.


    ¡°So, what happened?¡±


    ¡°The Blessing had no way to turn it down, and then I was forced to take it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not normal Pete.¡± Balin looked very ufortable. ¡°Are ya sure?¡±


    ¡°There was a countdown and everythin.¡± I said, intively. I was taking a bit of risk talking about this with Balin. However, Balin had saved my life once already and I¡¯d saved his. I was also his ¡®family¡¯ in his current rtionship with Annie, so I figured it was ok. I <i>needed</i> to talk to someone about this. Keeping stuff bottled up is never a good idea, and I didn¡¯t know enough to judge this situation. I was worried that a ''forced blessing'' was a punishment for evil, or would mark me as an Otherworlder.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard the like.¡± Balin pulled at his newly regrown handlebar moustache and thought for a while. ¡°Ya may need to go see a [Priest].¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a Title. Are they for specific Gods?¡±


    ¡°Aye, Lunara and Midna, but they can speak for any or all of the Gods.¡±


    ¡°Would it really be a good idea to go see someone like that about this?¡±


    ¡°Why not? Yer havin¡¯ God problems, so go talk to a God botherer.¡±


    ¡°What if I¡¯m cursed by the Gods, or they use me of sphemy?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s sphemy? That another kind of way to ruin beer?¡±


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s when you¡­ defame the Gods I guess?¡±


    ¡°Oh, like insultin a noble? That¡¯s always a bad idea, lot ofws about that.¡± Balin hummed and hawwed for a bit. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of sphemy. Is it something you learned in the humannds? You mentioned you were up there once.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± That seemed strange to me. How could a world with Gods not have sphemy? ¡°I mean, doesn¡¯t the church get angry at people when they insult the Gods?¡±


    Balin choked back augh. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because it would threaten their authority or somethin.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Pete, the Gods don¡¯t care if you insult them.¡± Balinughed.


    ¡°They¡­ don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Half of the time we swear it¡¯s at the Gods!¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I had noticed a lot of Godly Arses, Beards, and Yams and such. ¡°Why don¡¯t the Gods care?¡±


    ¡°Because they¡¯re Gods!¡± Balin sputtered. ¡°I feel like I need to get Sam in here to talk to ya. He knows a lot more about this stuff.¡±


    ¡°Sam does know a lot of weird stuff.. Any reason to ask him and not say, Doc Opal?"


    ¡°He¡¯s all about politics and the machinations of the Gods. It¡¯s a Blessed of Midna thing.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you two keep arguing over politics?¡± Last week Balin had put Sam in a headlock after he had sung an ode to the Queen¡¯s ¡°Comly Beard and Shaply Rear¡¯d¡±.


    ¡°Aye Sam thinks the nobility isn¡¯t needed anymore. I say that if was good enough for the Ancestors, it¡¯s good enough for us! The greybeards have hundreds of years of wisdom, so it makes sense to listen to em. Just look at Doc Opal!¡±


    I sat upright at that. ¡°I didn''t know she was a noble.¡±


    ¡°Not officially, but damn near. She¡¯s not a true noble yet, but she¡¯s as close to one as a dwarf like you or me¡¯ll meet. She¡¯ll probably be made a noble if she keeps doin¡¯ so much good work.¡±


    Opal is indeed quite different from most of the other dwarves in the camp. She has a more cultured ent, and she doesn¡¯t involve herself in any of the fights or quarrels. She¡¯s a calm pool in the chaos of daily life here. Wait...


    ¡°You can be ¡®made¡¯ a noble!?¡± I asked in surprise.


    ¡°Course! Dwarven nobles are chosen by the greybeards! I hear human nobility is chosen by birth. Stupid way to do things, nothin special about bein born!¡±


    Well, that was interesting. Maybe I could be a dwarven lord or duke sometime in the future?


    ¡°Anyway, we were talkin about the Gods. They don¡¯t care if we insult em?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Nah, it would be like getting insulted by a fly.¡±


    ¡°I mean, we smush flies.¡±


    ¡°Ok, mebbe not the best example.¡± The two of us shuddered in unison, imagining a giant godly hand descending to smush a recalcitrant dwarf. ¡°Pete, the Gods don¡¯t need to worry about their power or authority or anythin¡¯. They¡¯re <i>Gods</i>.¡±


    I mulled on that a bit. As a proud agnostic from Earth, my main thoughts on God up until this point had been polite disbelief. Then in less than a year, I''d died, reincarnated, and had to adjust to multiple very real Gods who grant magical powers.


    "Back to the main issue, Balin. Do you think I may be cursed, or Barck punished me for somethin?"


    "I doubt it, Blessins are a <i>gift.</i> My best guess would be that you <i>needed </i>that gift? Like when a kid asks fer a present and you want to give it to them, but mebbe what they really need is socks."


    I''d had an Aunt who always gave socks for Christmas. I hated that Aunt. "Then why don''t the Gods do that all the time? If they know better, just do it. They''re Gods, wouldn''t they always know better?"


    "Dunno, I''m not a God, Pete. Talk to Sam, or a [Priest]. Mebbe <i>Barck</i> needed ya to take it. Then a God would owe you a favour!" He pped me on my shoulder. "Some people never get a single Blessin Pete. They''re a privilege! Trust that Barck had a reason for it, and see what happens."


    Hmmm... if all went to n I''d be in Minnova soon. I guess I could talk to a [Priest] there. Hopefully it wouldn''t get me mixed up in some crazy politics. Speaking of which.


    ¡°Do the [Priests] get involved in government at all?¡±


    Balin sipped on his beer before answering. ¡°Pete, [Politician] is a<i></i>Title granted by the Gods, so [Priests] don¡¯t need to get involved. Besides, the Gods don¡¯t really worry about what we¡¯re doin. Except you apparently.¡± He gave me some side-eye as he said this.


    ¡°So that¡¯s a yes?¡± I asked. Balin thought for a bit before answering.


    ¡°Only time I¡¯ve ever head o¡¯ [Priests] or [Pdins] getting involved with government was when there was a really corrupt Titled noble. I mean really, really corrupt. Lunara doesn¡¯t look kindly on anyone with her Blessin¡¯ untin¡¯ thew."


    Well, what a change from Earth. I guess the trope of an evil or overbearing church doesn¡¯t work when the Gods are very real and always watching. No sphemy charges for Pete! Huzzah! That was one problem solved, but now I had another.


    ¡°Alright, I guess I''ll do it. Will it be easy for me to find a [Priest] when we get to Minnova?¡±


    ¡°I imagine so. Heck, you may get them a Milestone if it¡¯s something important.¡± Balin nodded. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand why that happened to ya. What did the message say?¡±


    I thought back and recited from memory as best I could, ¡°You have created an incredible new invention that can change the world! You have caught the attention of Barck and he wants to give you his Blessing!¡±


    Balin shifted ufortably. ¡°Pete, I¡¯ve been helpin you with this, and yer practically my brother.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Balin.¡±


    ¡°That said, I want ta dump you and yer ¡®gunpowder¡¯ in a dive tunnel and seal it up. That message makes me <i>very</i> worried.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Didja not read it? ¡®Can change the world?¡¯ Pete, when a God says yer goin¡¯ ta change the world, they <i>mean</i> it.¡±


    Well, I already knew that. I just really, really, hoped that it would be in a good way.


    Balin studied me suspiciously, ¡°You¡¯ve been sayin this stuff will be useful for mining. What is it, really? I understand powder, but what¡¯s ¡®gun¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Well, the easiest way would be to show you. Come on.¡±


    I lead Balin out of the room and over in the direction of my makeshift workstation. I¡¯d left everything kind of just piled up, but there¡¯s no real weather or animals out here so I think it should be fine. We made our way over a ridge and down into the basin. I could see Minnova in the distance as we made our way. Soon I would be in the big city, and I could begin my life here in earnest.


    ¡°So this is it¡­¡± Balin said, as he looked into the bowl.


    ¡°Yeah, be really careful with it. This stuff is dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Is it a good idea ta bring it into the mine then? It¡¯s already plenty dangerous in here.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­. You¡¯ll see. This stuff has a lot of uses outside of the mine too. Like fireworks.¡±


    ¡°What are those?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s like bright shining fire in the sky.¡±


    ¡°Magic can already do that.¡±


    ¡°I know, I¡¯ve seen it, Thanks for the reminder!¡± I grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s different, you can make beautiful shapes and stuff out of it.¡± Come to think of it¡­ I didn¡¯t really know how to make fireworks. Maybe being an [Alchemist] would help with that. I eyed the four blue boxes I was ignoring. I¡¯d get to them eventually. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this. I need to see if it actually works, and I want to show you that we didn¡¯t waste thest year of our lives.¡±


    ¡°Okey, what do ya need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Just stand over here, and I¡¯ll do the rest.¡± I walked us a very good distance away from my workstation; over another ridge and further away from camp. Hopefully the distance and the rocks would keep anyone froming to investigate the noise. I put Balin a safe distance away and ced the bowl down. ¡°Uh¡­. I need a way to light this.¡± Damn! I had no way to do it safely! There wasn¡¯t <i>too</i> much in the bowl, but it would still make a pretty big bang.


    ¡°I can go get a taper from Bran, give me a bit.¡± Balin said and ran off.


    While I stood twiddling my thumbs and waiting for Balin I realized a small problem. I didn¡¯t know how to make a fuse¡­ I know it involved fabric, but that was about it. This could be an issue. Then again, the valuable thing was the gunpowder; I didn¡¯t necessarily need a fuse. Even Barck the Bastard agreed with me on the value of gunpowder! Soon enough I could see Balin¡¯s helmet crest the ridge and he came down with a smoldering piece of wood.


    ¡°Will this do?¡± He asked as he ran up.


    ¡°Yep! It¡¯s perfect!¡± I emptied the bowl onto the ground a few paces away and then washed it out. I grinned at Balin as I walked up to stand beside him. ¡°Are you ready for me to rock your world?¡±


    Then I threw the taper onto the pile of powder.


    There was a sharp *BANG* and a bright sh of light and heat. I could feel my eyebrows singe and I was momentarily blinded. Maybe I¡¯d put down a bit too much powder.


    ¡°ME MOUSTACHE!!! PETE!!!¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Balin!¡±

 Chapter 21: Blood and Vinegar

    <h4>Chapter 21: Blood and Vinegar</h4>


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe ya burnt me moustache off twice!¡±


    I was currently rubbing some burn ointment on my face with Balin. We had decided to sneak some from Bran in the kitchen and do it ourselves rather than go face Opal. Bran has a small first aid kit in the kitchen, and I¡¯ve used it a couple times for small burns or cuts I got while baking. He raised an eyebrow when he saw us, but didn¡¯t pry further.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was goin to be that bad!¡± Honestly, I hadn¡¯t. I''d never actually gotten to the ¡®gunpowder¡¯ step when I¡¯d yed around with this back home. I''d seen some videos on the inte, but that had been a bigger boom than I''d expected. Well, all the better to earn some gold with! ¡°Do you believe me now when I say it¡¯s worth a lot?¡±


    ¡°All that without magic? Aye, I can believe it, it''s got quite a kick!¡±


    ¡°Almost as much as a Moscow mule!¡±


    Balin paused as he morosely pulled at his scorched moustache in the mirror. ¡°I know a mule¡­ what¡¯s a Moscow? You use some strange words sometimes Pete.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a drink with actual alcohol. I can¡¯t wait to see a pub full of dwarves with a drink that¡¯s higher than 10%. It¡¯ll be a riot.¡±


    ¡°I dunno if starting riots is a good idea, Pete.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean it¡¯ll be hrious.¡±


    ¡°Riots aren¡¯t really funny.¡±


    ¡°You sayin you don¡¯t like a good scrap? Then what was that business with the stools and the bucketsst week?¡±


    ¡°Ok, I guess it can be a bit funny.¡± Balin grinned at me and I grinned back. For all his straight shooting, Balin could get really riled up when it was about something he cared about. I don¡¯t really get angry myself, and I¡¯m more of a ¡®flight¡¯ kind of person in the ¡®fight, flight, freeze¡¯ scenario. I don¡¯t AVOID conflict; I just don¡¯t see a point in dealing with it mano-a-mano. I¡¯ll simply leave the situation and figure out a way to crush my enemiester when they least expect it.


    I applied a little more salve to a slightly blistered cheek and nodded into the mirror. Yep, vengeance is a dish best served as a surprise party. Like the party the senate threw for Caesar. Now there was a sharp group of individuals who knew that the best thing for a party was a Bloody Caesar! I wonder¡­


    ¡°Are there ms down here Balin?¡±


    ¡°I dunno. I just got to Minnova. I don¡¯t think the dungeon would have em. You can probably get some imported.¡±


    ¡°How about Worcestershire sauce?¡± Unlikely, but I should ask.


    ¡°War-chest-sire sauce? That something about the King again?¡±


    ¡°No, Worcestershire. Wor ¨C Chester ¨C Shire Sauce¡±


    ¡°Wooster-sher?¡±


    ¡°No, nonono. Wort ¨C Chess - Tchure.¡±


    ¡°Warty Chest Tire sauce? Sounds vile.¡±


    ¡°Midna¡¯s mullet, Balin, that¡¯s all wrong.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t even pronounce it tha same way twice yerself!¡±


    I ignored Balin¡¯s insult to my pronunciation of the world¡¯s greatest sauce. Worcestershire sauce is a wonderful invention from the city of Worcester and probably doesn''t exist here. It¡¯s fermented, just like beer, and it¡¯s made with anchovies, msses, vinegar, garlic, tamarind and then a mix of sugar and spices. It¡¯s delicious on meats and other treats. It¡¯s also one of the main ingredients of the national cocktail of Canada: the Bloody Caesar.


    A Bloody Caesar sounds even more vile than a Caudle if you can believe it, but it makes for a tasty treat on a hot summer day. It was invented in Calgary and it¡¯s amon drink at the Stampede. At the very least I know I drank nearly a half dozen Stampede Caesars when Caroline and I went to see the Muttin Bustin rodeo with Sammy. Watching small children get thrown off of sheep is amusing, but only for the first ten minutes. It¡¯s <i>very </i>amusing if you¡¯re slightly buzzed on Caesars.


    I doubt I¡¯ll ever be able to make them on Erd though. The Worcestershire sauce is bad enough, since I don¡¯t know how to make it, but the rest of the ingredients are pretty exacting.


    First, you need to take a 16oz ss and dip the rim in lemon juice before coating it with celery salt.


    Then you add one shot or so of vodka to the ss before filling it with mato. mato would be easy enough to make myself since it¡¯s just tomato juice with m water in it.


    Add a spoonful of Worcestershire sauce and a spoonful of tabasco, and all that¡¯s left is a celery stalk for garnish and some ice. Vo! A Bloody Caesar!


    ¡°Pete?¡± Balin was waving his hand in front of my face.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°What are ya thinkin about when yer eyes go all nk like that?¡±


    ¡°Just¡­ the past.¡± I thought I was over it, but I guess twenty-odd years aren¡¯t going to disappear in a few months.


    ¡°You rememberin¡¯ somethin¡¯?¡± Balin¡¯s voice was hopeful.


    ¡°No, maybe, not really.¡± Even if it was only to Balin, I needed toe clean about my amnesia soon. I was starting to feel like a real heel. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you got hurt. Maybe bing an [Alchemist] will give me something to keep us safe the next time we do this.¡±


    "Dunno about a next time..." Balin muttered.


    Speaking of time, it was finally time to look at the blue boxes I¡¯d been putting off.


    <i>Congrattions! You have chosen to gain the [Alchemist] Title!</i>


    <i>[Good Luck] has transformed into [sh of Insight]</i>


    <i>[Strength of All: Self] has transformed into [Flesh of Stone]</i>


    I focused on the new Blessings in turn and descriptions appeared with a *bing*.


    <i>[sh of Insight]</i>


    <i>Sometimes all an aspiring [Alchemist] needs to make an experiment seed is the right idea. You gain a sh of insight about a project you are currently working on. This Blessing can be used once a day.</i>


    <i>[Flesh of Stone]</i>


    <i>You can reflexively turn your flesh into stone to avoid the nasty burns or explosions that cane as a result of ying around with alchemy. This Blessingsts for four seconds and can be used once an hour.</i>


    Those looked neat. [sh of Insight] felt a bit more limited than [Good Luck]. I guess it was the difference between choosing when I¡¯d have a lucky moment rather than generally better luck? I¡¯d need to think on that one. The once per day limitation was way more limited than [Power Pick].


    [Flesh of Stone] looked awesome. Having the ability to turn my body into stone felt enough like real magic that I was feeling a little better about this whole thing. Not to mention that an extrayer of protection in a world with real monsters can¡¯t hurt. Maybe I¡¯ll use it in the next bar fight if someone tries to punch me in the nose again.


    Next was the difficult part.


    <i>Gaining a Title has granted you the ability to choose a Milestone!</i>


    <i>Please ept one of the following:</i>


    <i>[Determine Ratios]</i>


    <i>Simply by looking with your eyes you are able to determine the exact ratios for different materials. This ability is always avable to use.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>[Burning Finger]</i>


    <i>You can produce a small jet of me from your index finger that can be used to light objects on fire. You can use this ability once per minute.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>[Stabilize Mixture]</i>


    <i>You are able to make an unstable mixture reach perfect equilibrium. It will no longer react violently unless you force it to do so. You can use this ability once per minute.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>[Perfect Recall]</i>


    <i>You can always perfectly recall any recipe that youpletely learned in the past. This ability is always avable to use.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    Now I¡¯m absolutely sure that these messages are based on my own thoughts and actions. These Milestones were <i>all </i>relevant to the event that granted my Title. They were also¡­ kind of boring?


    I needed to measure the ratios for gunpowder so I got [Determine Ratios].


    I needed to start a fire so I got [Burning Finger].


    I needed the gunpowder to not explode in my face so I got [Stabilize Mixture].


    I couldn¡¯t remember the correct form for gunpowder so I got [Perfect Recall].


    They were all exactly what I''d needed while being simultaneously meh. Give me more stuff like [Flesh of Stone]!


    Anyway, I needed to choose something that would serve me long term. Pretty soon I was going to be making beer. That was my goal, and the gunpowder was a stepping stone. That meant [Burning Finger] was out. Making fire with my fingers was cool and all, but that was easily reced.


    Same problem with [Perfect Recall]. I am confident in my ability to remember how I made all the different beers at Beavermoose. [Perfect Recall] may help me remember how to make some mixed drinks, but it wasn¡¯t going to help much with a craft I spent twenty years honing.


    That left [Determine Ratios] and [Stabilize Mixture]. [Determine Ratios] was clear enough. A big part of beer brewing is getting the exact ratio right for the grains in the malt and the adjuncts or ¡®extra vours¡¯ in the wort. [Determine Ratios] would allow me to get it perfect every time. However, it was another Milestone that could theoretically be reced with some proper tools.


    On the other hand, if [Stabilize Mixture] allowed me to force fermentation to stop it could have a lot of uses in beer making. The yeasts used during primary fermentation convert sugar in the wort into alcohol. The exact ratio of sugar that converts into alcohol in the final beer is called attenuation, and you don¡¯t always want it to be 100%. If [Stabilize Mixture] allowed me to stop fermentation then it could open up some interesting new ways of brewing.


    The final thing I needed to keep in mind was that gunpowder could go boom in my face at any time. That single fact made my decision easy. I focused on ¡®Yes¡¯ for [Stabilize Mixture], and there was a *bing* as another blue box appeared.


    <i>Are you sure you want to ept [Stabilize Mixture] as your Milestone? All other options will be lost.</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    Alright, let¡¯s do this! I focused on ¡®Yes¡¯.


    Well, that was done. Time to go talk to Grim, I guess.


    ¡°Hey Balin ¨C ¡°


    There was another series of *bings* as a series of blue boxesbeled ¡®Quest¡¯ appeared in my vision. Solen¡¯s socks, not more decisions!!! Argghhhhh!!!

 Chapter 22: Office Gossip

    <h4>Chapter 22: Office Gossip</h4>


    Grim adjusted the portrait on his desk as he thought.


    The explosion on the outskirts of the camp had caused him no small amount of worry, and he¡¯d sent some guards to go investigate. They¡¯d reported finding a small workstation along with several containers of minerals and Pete and Balin limping back to camp with slight injuries. The guards had stayed hidden and watched as the two made their way into the kitchen. Pete and Balin had special permission to be in there, so they had allowed it, and the two of them were then followed to their cabin.


    Now, one of them was sitting across from him, looking slightly singed.


    ¡°So Balin, tell me why yer here. What happened? Do ya need medical supplies?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine. Pete¡¯s ¡®gunpowder¡¯ looks like it works. I told him ta go get cleaned up while I came an asked for an appointment.¡±


    ¡°Is it dangerous?¡±


    ¡°Very, but I think it¡¯ll be useful.¡± Balin was an experienced carpenter, and about as good as a tradesman could get without being Titled. Grim trusted his opinion. If he said it would be useful, it likely was. It looked like the prison camp would soon be down two prisoners.


    ¡°Anything more?¡±


    ¡°Aye, he got a Title for makin¡¯ it, [Alchemist]¡±


    ¡°Well, that must be some kind of record. Blessed to Titled within a year. A lot of Blessings going around this camp recently.¡± Grim pulled out a file folder and made a note ¡°Anything else crop up? You look frazzled, and not just because of the burns.¡±


    Balin paused for a moment and seemed to think before answering. ¡°Just tha shock of the explosion. Lost me moustache again. I hope it regrows before we get out, but I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Do you think this ¡®gunpowder¡¯ is going to be worth a lot to tha city?¡±


    ¡°I can guarantee it.¡± Balin said, with an odd note of conviction. Grim looked him over. Balin was an honest dwarf, and Grim was d to see him go. Dwarves like Balin needed to be reintegrated back into society as soon as they were ready, and it was getting to be about time. He was pleased that Balin and Pete were leaving together. That odd Dwarf would need someone like Balin to help keep him on the straight and narrow. On the other hand¡­ he pulled out another folder.


    ¡°You had some concerns about Pete¡¯s behaviour. Any changes?¡±


    ¡°He seems better now, he¡¯s talkin about his ns again, and he¡¯s got some clear goals.¡±


    ¡°When did it change?¡±


    ¡°Right when you called him in and he got tha charcoal.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d wanted to see for myself. He was less focused, and he¡¯d lost a lot of his¡­ edge. You''d say he''s better?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    Grim shuffled through some of the papers in his folder. Balin had approached himst monthining about odd behaviour from Pete. Pete was already odd, but Balin had been insistent that it went beyond the ordinary. In fact, Sam and Doc Opal had both brought forward concerns of their own. Sam had said it looked suspiciously like some form of ¡®forgetfulness¡¯ Milestone. However, nobody in the camp had the necessary Title for something like that. A Blessing could only bring basic Milestones like [Power Pick]. A forgetfulness Milestone required a Title like [Swindler] or [Psion]. Dwarves with those Titles were not sent here; they would have been sent to the Capital prison. As for dwarves that fit the psych profile for something like that¡­


    "He was givin¡¯ silver to Tim?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Tim had a bit of a sore point with Pete at tha start but he seems to be more friendly now.¡±


    Suspicious. Grim had Tim pegged as an ultra-traditionalist. The beard shaving was already odd, but getting buddy-buddy with a revolutionary like Pete was extremely out of character for Tim.


    All dwarves were required to report any Blessings or Titles gained at the camp to the supervisor. It was easy to notice when someone received a Blessing from the glow they exuded, but sometimes one fell through the cracks. Grim had already put [Whisperer] Gemma onto keeping an eye on Tim. He made another note and added it to the file folder before putting it away.


    There was a knock on the door.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Grim asked, and Balin shifted ufortably in his chair, like a child caught tattling to the principal.


    ¡°Pete sir, is now ok?¡±


    Grim sighed and activated the Title Milestone he''d chosen, [Reduce Stress]. It was a small thing, but being a Titled [Administrator] could be hard on the heart. A Milestone like that could guarantee a long life. As the door opened to let in his erstwhile prisoner, Grim smiled at the thought of his new Title. Perhaps there would soon be <i>three </i>less dwarves at Minnova Prison Mine.


    ---


    I pulled a brush through my beard and gave my armpits a quick sniff.


    Right. I was as ready as I was ever going to be. No point in putting this off, let¡¯s do it.


    I walked up to Grim¡¯s office and knocked. I didn¡¯t see Balin about so I guess he was already inside.


    I¡¯d needed a moment to get prepared for this, and Balin had offered to go ahead. I was thankful, as it probably meant Grim was already mostly up to speed.


    A voice came from inside. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±


    ¡°Pete sir, is now ok?¡±


    ¡°Aye,e in.¡±


    I pushed open the door and made my way inside. Grim was seated behind his desk, looking well, grim. Balin was on a small chair in front. He waved at me as I entered.


    ¡°Thank you for seeing us Grim.¡± I said.


    ¡°No problem, Pete. I heard your little experiment go off, so I assume you two are here to talk gold?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Balin and I said in unison.


    Grim nodded and his straight edge moustache twitched back and forth. ¡°I¡¯ve already heard from Balin, Pete. How ¡®bout you tell me yerself?¡±


    I looked at Balin. Was my shame safe Balin, how much did you tell him? Balin waggled his eyebrows at me. I¡¯d take that to mean my forced Blessing was a secret for now. I trusted that <i>Balin</i> didn''t think it was a big deal, but he¡¯s a pretty forward-thinking Dwarf. I already had a reputation as a bit of a weirdo in this camp, and I didn''t want people thinking that even the <i>Gods </i>think I¡¯m weird.


    ¡°Okay.¡± I grabbed a seat next to Balin. ¡°I used the charcoal you got me to finish making my gunpowder.¡±


    ¡°Why ¡®gun¡¯-powder?¡± Grim asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wonderin meself.¡± Balin agreed. The two of them turned to look at me. Uh¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± The old standby! That¡¯ll do it. ¡°I just remember it as having that name. Maybe the person who taught it to me was named gun?¡±


    Balin opened his mouth to talk, but paused for a moment. His eyes took on a slightly hurt look. Uh oh. I think Balin suspects something is up. Once I start making beer at Annie¡¯s my ¡®amnesia¡¯ schtick just isn¡¯t going to work. Grim is part of the government, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to tell him, but I think I need to talk to Balin. Sooner, rather thanter. Magic and Gods are real, so maybe transmigration isn¡¯t unheard of?


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Grim pulled out a form from his desk andid it on the table. ¡°Alright. Prisoner: Peter Samson. Invention for consideration: ¡®Gunpowder¡¯. Ingredients: ''Potassium Nitrate, Charcoal, Sulfur in 75/12.5/12.5 ratio'' Date created: Barday the 16th of Yearn 9997.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey! It¡¯s three years to the deca-millenial? Or whatever?¡± I asked. That was neat! Balin and Grim turned to look at me, and Balin put his face in his hands.


    ¡°Pete, you don¡¯t know what year it is?¡± Grim asked, his scowl deepening.


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m pretty sure Opal taught me," I fidgeted. Hey you try learning about an entire world in under a year! "There¡¯s just been a lot going on and I¡¯ve been kinda forgetfultely.¡± Grim and Balin exchanged a nce. ¡°Still, 10000 years huh?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Grim put down his quill for a moment. ¡°There are celebrations nned at the Capital. They¡¯llst for an entire year. I¡¯m nning to go with my wife and her family. Perhaps you¡¯ll have an opportunity to go yourself.¡± He smiled, a rare urrence.


    ¡°What kind of celebrations?¡± Balin asked, sitting forward on his chair.


    ¡°There¡¯ll be a diatorialbat in the colosseum. I hear they¡¯re bringin in some monsters fer them to fight.¡± Grim hummed and hawwed a bit. ¡°Some art and culturepetitions. I think it¡¯ll be a good chance fer you to get yer memories back Pete. There¡¯ll probably be a [Hypnotist] or two there.¡±


    ¡°Good idea. Thanks, Grim.¡±


    ¡°Now, where were we?¡± Grim looked down at his form. ¡°What¡¯s the use of this powder Pete?¡±


    ¡°It can be used for rapid mining and it has some other uses.¡± I mean, I was never going to talk about those uses, though I may try and make fireworks into a thing. Especially if there¡¯s a big celebration happening soon.


    ¡°Use: Mining and other. How do we make it work?¡±


    ¡°Um. I think you take some barrels, fill ¡®em with gunpowder, and then light them?¡± I wasn¡¯t too sure on that. I¡¯d never actually seen or heard of how gunpowder was used in mining other than video games. "I know that it works best in enclosed spaces."


    Grim put his quill down. ¡°You don¡¯t sound very sure Pete.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ kind of not. Gunpowder is very powerful and it can move a lot of rock at once, but I¡¯m not sure about the engineering of it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± Grim made another note. ¡°I can get the [Engineers] to work on it, but your share of any gold for the invention will be reduced.¡±


    ¡°As long as it¡¯s enough to get me and Balin out, I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Good. Balin mentioned that it¡¯s explosive? How ya gonna set it off? Some dwarf just needs ta stand next to some exploding barrels and toss on a taper?¡± Grim muttered darkly, ¡°You volunteerin?¡±


    ¡°It just needs a fuse.¡±


    ¡°A fuse?¡± Balin and Grim asked in unison. Balin grinned and Grim scowled. Tiara¡¯s teats¡­ I had forlornly hoped that fuses or some kind of analog already existed.


    ¡°I can probably figure it out. I¡¯ll just need some supplies.¡± I could <i>maybe </i>figure it out. Hopefully my new [Alchemist] powers would help me out there, but I had my doubts about anything provided by Barck the Bastard.


    ¡°Alright, you go ahead and do that. Let me know when you¡¯re ready to show it off.¡± Balin nodded and held his hand out, indicating we were done, ¡°Anythin¡¯ else?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I got a Title!¡± I seemed to recall Opal saying we were required to report those. ¡°I¡¯m a Titled [Alchemist] now!¡±


    ¡°Good fer you.¡± Grim turned to look at his work. ¡°Yer dismissed.¡±


    Balin got up and the two of us turned to leave. As we made our way out the door Grim called out.


    ¡°Pete, if ya need any supplies, do it through me. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Yessir!¡±


    ¡°Good. I don¡¯t want to hear about any fights at yer Blessin party. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Yessir!¡± I lied. There were always fights. He knew that and I knew that.


    ¡°Now git!¡±


    Balin and I made our way out of the office. Him oddly stressed, me buzzing with hope. Soon!

 Chapter 23: Flash of Insight

    <h4>Chapter 23: sh of Insight</h4>


    ¡°Well gentle-dwarves, do you have any ideas?¡±


    I was currently down a dive tunnel with Wreck and Sam. Balin had the day off today, so he was exining our gunpowder to the engineers.


    I used [Power Pick] on a particrly difficult section of the wall, and then turned to face Sam. He was lying on his back facing the roof of the cave. He¡¯d juste from lugging some sacks up the dive tunnel and was wheezing a bit.


    ¡°What about a candlewick?¡± Wreck asked, as she filled a sack with the ore I¡¯d collected.


    ¡°Eh, probably not Wreck.¡± Sam said from his spot on the floor. ¡°Candlewick¡¯ll be too slow.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good idea Wreck, I¡¯ll try it anyway.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be too slow.¡± Samined.


    ¡°Nobody asked you Sam.¡± I retorted.


    ¡°You literally just ¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try the candlewick, maybe soak it in oil or somethin if it¡¯s too slow. Come on Sam, yer the [Maestro], don''t you have an idea or two?¡±


    Sam mulled it over while I helped Wreck fill the bags. ¡°You said it needs to be a rope or somethin that burns fast, but not too fast?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and at a constant rate.¡± I didn¡¯t want to light the thing and then have it suddenly streak to the end ! No sudden bangs for Pete. Fast but steady, that was the ticket.


    ¡°Fraid not, Pete.¡± Sam shrugged.


    ¡°I think that would be <i>way</i> slower than the candlewick Sam, it¡¯s a terrible idea.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Sam went over his words and then guffawed. ¡°Hah! You got me!¡± Wreck didn¡¯t even grin but I think I saw her eyes roll.


    ¡°What about guts?¡± Wreck asked after a few minutes of silent work.


    ¡°Guts?¡± Sam and I asked in unison. I think I saw her blush slightly.


    ¡°Yes, some dried out guts.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Like an instrument string.¡± Sam eximed. ¡°Mebbe doused with somethin mmable. That could work¡­ I shoulda thought of that!¡± He pped Wreck on the back and she turned around and kicked him in the shin.


    ¡°I¡¯ll add it to my list. Thanks Wreck.¡±


    Seriously, the work was mind-numbing sometimes, and the only thing that kept it fresh was the fact that I did it with some friends.


    Oh, and the mining songs. Wreck and I grabbed our bags while Sam got back to mining while singing a song I¡¯d taught him. It echoed joyously along the rock and stone as we made our way up the dive tunnel.


    Brothers in the dive rejoice!


    Swing, swing, swing with me.


    Raise your pick and raise your voice!


    Sing, sing, sing with me.


    Down and down into the deep,


    Will we find Tiara''s Keep?


    Diamonds, blessings, gold and more,


    Hidden in the mountain store!


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole.


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole!


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole.


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!


    That song had gotten more popr in the past few months than Tiara¡¯s Keep, which was the first mining song I¡¯d ever heard down here. Sam especially loved it, and I couldn''t wait to hear it on the bagpipes. Maybe I could write a punk rock version. Speaking of which, I suspect dwarves will be big fans of rock music. Just a feeling.


    Soon we were up around a bend and I couldn¡¯t hear him singing anymore. Wreck wasn''t a big talker, so we dragged our bags up in silence. I had some time to think and it suddenly struck home that I was going to leave the mine soon. That was a sad thought, this ce had be a second home.


    Doc Opal was like a beloved aunt to me, and her lessons were probably going to be the only thing keeping me alive down here.


    Sam was a loveable gruff old man, and I was looking forward to jamming with him on his pipes when we got out. His indenture was for a year and a half, so he¡¯d be out in about a year.


    Bran''s been like an older brother or a cousin. He had that ¡°I¡¯m tolerating you because mum requires it¡± feel down to an art.


    Tim was¡­ Tim. He was like a buddy that¡­ I owed money.


    Something tugged at my memory a bit. Something about Tim and money. I shook it off as I tripped on a rock. Careful Pete, don¡¯t want a concussion right before the big escape!


    Grim was the angry grandpappy who yells at clouds. He secretly loves you, but hides it with a constant stream of criticism. We love you too Grim, you incorrigible right bastard.


    Balin and Annie would be out with me, so nothing to miss there. I¡¯d have to marry Balin off to Annie eventually though. *sniff* They grow up so fast!


    Wreck¡­ I turned to look at Wreck as she walked up the tunnel beside me. I didn¡¯t really know Wreck. She was the introvert of the group, and while I¡¯d say we were friendly, it was hard to say that we were ¡®friends¡¯. I regretted that, as she and Annie had been besties. Well, no time like the present.


    ¡°So, Wreck, how are you finding the mine life?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Do you find you miss Annie?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    See? What am I supposed to do with that. Well, every friend group needs the strong silent type. Ipared the single sack I was dragging up the tunnel with the two that Wreck was lugging over her shoulder. Yep, the strooong silent type.


    ¡°Are ya going toe and find us when you get out? We¡¯ll all be at Annie¡¯s brewery, hopefully.¡±


    ¡°Probably.¡± She hesitated. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Maybe what?¡± Now I was curious, was she ying hard to get? I could get behind a tsundere dwarf, especially one with such a marvelous¡­ stringy beard. Alright, Wreck didn¡¯t have the most marvelous of beards.


    ¡°Depends on a couple things.¡±


    ¡°What things?¡± I edged closer and put on a winning smile.


    ¡°Things.¡±


    My smile twitched a bit. Fine, keep your secrets.


    We reached the end of the dive tunnel, and Wreck hoisted both her bags into a passing minecart. I tried to toss mine in as well, but my arms were a bit too weak from dragging the heavy sack up the tunnel. Without a word, Wreck grabbed it from me and tossed it into the minecart as easily as the first two. She turned to face me as the minecart whizzed off. She grinned, and I realized for the first time that Wreck had a very pretty smile.


    ¡°You should work those weak arms as much as you work yer mouth, Pete!¡±


    Oof.


    ---


    I put down the sack of materials Grim had brought me and sat down at my makeshift workstation.


    It was finally my day off, and Grim had been kind enough to get me everything I needed. There was even a small vial of methanol with abel that said ¡®ABSOLUTELY DO NOT DRINK, FOR MEDICINAL PURPOSES ONLY¡¯ and another hastily scrawled note that said ¡°DO NOT ADD TO THE BEER, PETE¡±. Puhlease, any high school chem kid knows not to drink methanol. I''m ignorant, not stupid. I did wonder if they used nasty additives here; most methanol back on Earth had all kinds of stuff added to it to prevent ''experimental drinking''.


    I was a bit surprised to learn that alcohol exists in a form other than beer here. If you have [Alchemists] it makes sense that you''d also have distilling techniques. I was further surprised that the dwarves weren''t using distilling to make stronger alcohol, but then again¡­ I wasn¡¯t.


    There were four different ideas for my makeshift fuse.


    Some gunpowder wrapped in cloth.


    A candlewick, just for Sam.


    A rope soaked in oil.


    Some guts soaked in alcohol.


    If none of those worked, it was back to the drawing board. Or I could give up a lot of gold and set the [Engineers] on it.


    I tried the candlewick first, and well, it was a candlewick; it burned nowhere fast. I needed something that moved a bit quicker so I could make a long fuse. It was likely that once the fire got anywhere <i>near </i>the powder it could blow, so short fuses were out. I guess that meant no using Grim as a fuse.


    Next, I tried wrapping some gunpowder in a long, thin, cotton sheet; I made sure to use [Stabilize Mixture] just in case. It took a while, but it actually looked like a fuse when it was done! I lit one end on fire, and it worked great! At least it worked great until it reached a section where I¡¯d poured a bit too much gunpowder and the entire thing went up in an instant. I imagined me going up in an instant with it and instantly shelved the idea. It did create a stereotypical hissing fuse, but it was just too risky.


    Next, I tried the rope soaked in oil, and it worked OK. When I lit it, the burning traveled at a nice rate along the rope, but it was kind of stop and go. I needed consistency.


    Finally, Wreck¡¯s big idea! I soaked the guts in alcohol for a while and then dried them at low heat in the oven while Bran angrily tapped his foot beside me. I think he was worried I would blow up his kitchen; can¡¯t imagine why. When it came time to test it, the makeshift fuse worked exactly as intended! The fire burned merrily down the string of guts at a fairly constant rate.


    Perfect! I had a working model, and a massive problem. There was no way a string of guts mixed with methanol was cheap or easy to work with. Wreck would be happy to know her idea worked, but it just wasn¡¯t right for me.


    I hummed a little ¡°Boom Boom Pow¡± from the Peas as I brainstormed, and then made a small *tsk* as I remembered something. I had [sh of Insight] and this was the perfect time to use it. I was kind of loathe to use anything from Bollocks Barck, but ¡®waste not want not¡¯.


    I activated [sh of Insight] and for an instant, nothing happened. Typical Barck, garbage God, garbage -


    Suddenly my head rocked as knowledge exploded in my brain and drained out through my eye sockets. Everything around me and everything I''d seen or heard in my entire existence spun through my head. I think I may have copsed, but the only thing on my mind was the rampant fractal patterns wracking my cerebellum. Then, as a series of mental switches clicked into ce, I gained an insight.


    I already had what I needed. I¡¯d known about it for a year. Whistlemop¡¯s red vine.


    Also, eat shit Barck. Ugh.

 Chapter 24: Das Boot

    <h4>Chapter 24: Das Boot</h4>


    Tim frowned into his tankard as he took another drink of the True Brew of the dwarves.


    Nothing was going to n anymore.


    ¡°How¡¯s it goin¡¯, Tim?¡± The Great Deceiver asked.


    Tim put on his brightest and most winning smile. ¡°Great, Pete! Congrattions on getting your Title!¡±


    He couldn¡¯t believe it. How could the Gods possibly favour this dwarf? The rest of the room raised their tankards in a toast, and Tim shivered as smelled the telltale rank odour of lemons from many of them. The rot was spreading fast.


    A few months ago, barely one in ten dwarves would have been willing to admit their attachment to this radler. Now, nearly a third of the camp was drinking it nightly.


    It had been going so well! He needed to act more decisively now that his n had ended in failure. He¡¯d initially been using only his new Blessings to distract and trick Pete into giving up all his silver. However, he¡¯d eventually decided to use his Title Milestone, which went far beyond a simple swindle. Tim pulled up his Abilities and read them over for the hundredth time, trying to see if there was any possible way to deal with the current situation.


    <strong><i>[Distraction]</i></strong><i> ¨C A spirit divided is ripe for the taking. Your ill-gotten gains will cause problems unless you can keep attention elsewhere. Increases the chance that a mark will be distracted when they¡¯re talking to you. Keep in mind that you may need to set up the distraction yourself. </i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong><i>[Steady Hands] ¨C </i></strong><i>Your hands are firm and unshaking, no matter the situation. Your charisma increases by 4 when bluffing, and you are immune to telltale signs of lying. </i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong><i>[Lost Reason] ¨C </i></strong><i>If you can¡¯t find a fool to rob, make your own! While you¡¯re working a mark, you can reduce their wisdom by four for an hour. Sessive uses on the same mark will increase the duration of the effect up to a maximum of eight hours. </i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once a day.</i>


    Tim shivered as he read his first Milestone; it was truly powerful. It exined why so many sses based off of Nether were restricted or banned outright.


    He¡¯d been so close! Pete had trusted him, even though that fool knew the reason he was here in the first ce! Pete didn¡¯t even realise the dangers posed by one of the <i>Beardless</i>. Everyone knew a beardless dwarf was one with nothing to lose; to trust one was madness!


    Tim growled softly as Sam and Balin lifted Pete into the air and threw him face-first into the cake. Everything about Pete was simply undwarvish. From his hatred of beer, to hisck of respect towards Doctor Opal or Speaker John ¨C he treated them like friends or colleagues! The worst part was that they seemed to humour him; Speaker John had even tried a radler! Tim could understand Doctor Opal being seduced ¨C her weakness to sweets was legendary. But Speaker John was one of the most respectable and most dwarvish dwarves Tim had ever met, and even he was being swayed by the Great Deceiver!


    Tim didn¡¯t buy Pete¡¯s lies about amnesia. Pete knew too many things to be truly addled in the head ¨C too many new and dangerous things. As a Titled [Swindler], Tim could tell Pete was covering something up. Something big. Tim would reveal it to everyone, and Pete would be outed for the monster he was!


    How, though? Pete no longer needed to give him silver, and recently, Balin never gave them any time alone together. He was also being run ragged by Grim, who had him on errands constantly. Tim sat and thought for a while as the party devolved into the regr brawl.Perhaps it was time to do something a little more¡­ direct. Tim looked down at the object clutched in his hand. Yes¡­ when the time was right, he would use it and see if Pete was truly a <i>dwarf</i>.


    ¡°Hey Tim! You want some of this cake?¡±


    ¡°Sure Pete! I¡¯d love some, give me a moment!¡± Tim got up and put on his best smile. A lying smile to go and greet the biggest liar in the camp. It was pure poetry ¨C it was <i>justice</i>.


    ---


    It was time for my final Blessing party! Apparently, there isn¡¯t too much of a difference between a Title party and a Blessing party. Titled people are given a lot of respect, and the Blessing party is one of thest opportunities for their friends and family to dunk on them. Hence why I was currently face first in a chocte cake while someone dumped beer on my head.


    I was a slimy, chocty, gooey mess. It was marvelous. I could tell a few people still didn''t really like me, but I do think I¡¯ve managed to fit in.


    ¡°Ya love puttin yer foot in yer mouth, dontcha Pete? Have some boot to go with it!¡± My thoughts were interrupted as Sam coated a thankfully clean looking boot in cake and then jammed it into my mouth. It tasted like metal, leather, and a rather delicious almond cream. Bran had outdone himself.


    I took a moment to appreciate it as I grabbed a handful of chocte cake and crammed it into Sam¡¯s beard. ¡°At least I can appreciate a good dessert. Everyone can tell from your music that you have no taste!¡±


    The rest of the cake ttered to the ground as Iunched myself at him. Sam dodged out of the way, and we took a moment to stare each other down. One of the dwarves in the crowd looked forlornly at the cake on the floor and then at the empty dessert te in his hands. Oopsie.


    ¡°Ooooooooohhhh!!!!¡±


    ¡°Fight! Fight! Fight!¡±


    ¡°Hit him with a fist Sam-pler!¡±


    ¡°Give him the ol¡¯ one, two!¡±


    The crowd got worked up as we began to circle each other. I think I saw Balin collecting bets on who would win. I threw the first jab, and Sam blocked it with his arm.


    ¡°You¡¯ll need ta do better than that, Pete!¡± He cried, as he drove a foot at my shins. I sidestepped and tried to sweep his feet out from under him, but Sam was solid as an oak. He came at me in a rush, and I threw a series of jabs at his weaving head. I even connected on his chin with a little uppercut.


    Then we were clinching, and it was a mad scramble until he shoved some cake into my nose. I jumped back and slipped on a piece of cake just as he swung a haymaker that brushed past my head. My legs came up as I went down and one of my feet nailed Sam right between the legs. There was a general *groan* from the entire room as Sam copsed with a wheeze of ¡°Foul!¡±.


    It took a moment for everyone to realize we weren¡¯t getting up again. I¡¯d rung my head pretty well on the wooden floor, and Sam''s other head had been rung pretty well too. Some hands propped us up and carried us over to a bench. After a few moments of staring daggers at each other I took a quavering step up onto a nearby table.


    ¡°Sam has challenged me with this boot!¡± I dered, holding up the offending article of clothing. ¡°So, I challenge him in turn! We shall both drink from a boot, and may the best dwarf win! A drinking contest is a-foot!¡±


    The room all cheered. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Wreck roll her eyes, but she was the only one sober enough to catch my excellent wordy. Soon a second boot was acquired as Sam and I were seated on the opposite sides of a table. Apparently, the boots belonged to Grim, and he had agreed to allow us the use of them for pranks this evening. The fool!


    ¡°Do you understand the rules, Sam?¡± I bared my teeth in a malicious grin. Behind me, Balin was massaging my shoulders and there was a general mour as a dozen dwarves began to cheer for me.


    ¡°Child¡¯s y!¡± Wreck was currently on Sam¡¯s side, and it looked like she was examining the boot for tricks. Where was the trust? Sam also had a cheering section, and his looked a little bigger than mine. Ah well, its not the size that counts. It¡¯s winning.


    ¡°We fill the boots to the top, and then each drink. Winner is the one that drinks the fastest with no spige!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been drinkin¡¯ beer longer than you¡¯ve been alive whippersnapper!¡±


    ¡°Too bad yer age has made you infirm, old man!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll empty this boot and shove it in yer rear before you even get halfway!¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll choke on it! Too bad all your piping hasn¡¯t left you with better plumbing!¡±


    ¡°Some [Alchemist], the only thing you ever make is bad puns!¡±


    ¡°Better than a [Maestro] who only ever mastered his own instrument!¡±


    I held out the boot toe first and nodded at Sam. He lifted his boot and we held the tips of the toes together. Speaker John materialized out of the crowd, his ited beard swinging, and he ced his hand on our boot tips.


    ¡°On your marks! Get set! Go!¡± He raised his hand and we raised the boots to our lips.


    Sam and I both began to chug as fast as we could. I gave it a moment and then slowed down. I wanted to relish the moment, because¡­


    I knew the trick to drinking from a boot.


    Sam was so engrossed in his drinking that he didn¡¯t see me slow down and begin to rotate my boot as I drank. You see, drinking from boots is an art form that started among the nobility in Ennd. They wouldpetitively drink from riding boots at their hunting lodges. The practice was picked up as a hazing ritual by the German Military before it eventually became an Oktoberfest tradition. Obviously, they don¡¯t use real boots anymore, but the technique is the same.


    Once you start drinking from the boot, a small vacuum begins to form in the toe. At the same time, an air bubble begins to travel up the boot from where you are drinking. When the air bubble reaches the toe, the vacuum releases and all the fluid in the toe washes out in an instant, creating a wave of beer.


    What that all meant was that I got to thoroughly enjoy the moment an eruption of beer smashed into Sam¡¯s face. He sputtered and coughed, his eyes blinking furiously as the beer drenched him. Meanwhile, I took my time slowly rotating the boot as I drank. The trick was to turn the toe roughly ny degrees just as the air bubble hits the vacuum. I pulled it off with long practiced aplomb, and enjoyed the glower that Sam was sending my way as I slowly finished off the boot.


    I mmed my boot on the table with an ¡°Aahhh¡± of appreciation. Not of the Beer, which was still shitty, but of my sweet, sweet, lemony victory. My cheering squad was going wild. Sam¡¯s was too, but mostly in mockery. Dwarven fans are a fickle thing.


    ¡°You thought you could defeat the master?¡± I asked, quirking an eyebrow.


    ¡°Ah, shut it!¡± Sam grumbled.


    Then we shook hands and grinned. I grabbed a hunk of cake off the floor and Sam got ready to dodge, but instead I turned to a quiet corner of the room. I¡¯d noticed a friend staying out of the party, and we couldn¡¯t have that!


    ¡°Hey Tim! You want some of this cake?¡±


    ¡°Sure Pete! I¡¯d love some, give me a moment!¡± Tim got up and put on his best smile.


    I shoved some cake into it.


    That was when the food fight started.

 Chapter 25: A Wider World

    <h4>Chapter 25: A Wider World</h4>


    I sat on my bed, lost in thought. Tomorrow was the big day.


    I¡¯d put in a hard day in the mine, and Grim had dropped by partway through the day to announce that the [Engineers] wereing tomorrow. He had a big stash of the red vine, which was apparently called sparkvine, and the [Engineers] were providing the gunpowder ns.


    Depending on the results of tomorrow¡¯s test, Balin and I would be free.


    It was hard to imagine. Well, I mean it was easy to imagine. Me in a brewery making sweet, sweet liquor. I purred a bit as I scribbled in the small notepad Grim had given me. I looked down and realized that I¡¯d been doodling Barck¡¯s name in the margins like a lovesick schoolgirl. Except with guns and little skulls and various other instruments of death.


    I¡¯ve caught myself doing that a lot recently, just¡­ happily thinking about the casual murder and destruction of Barck and everything he loves. I love revenge as much as the next guy, but I¡¯ve never had a deep-seated hatred like this. I wonder if it¡¯s a dwarvish thing, or that I''ve simply never been screwed so hard before. I¡¯m not sure, because so far all the dwarves seem to get over stuff with no real hard feelings. Either way, I''ll try to deal with it, and just punch Barck metaphorically in the face when I finally get a chance to chat with a [Priest.]


    Back to what I was doing. Looking at quests, and pondering a mystery.


    <i>Quest: An Ore-Able Time Part 2/10</i>


    <i>You¡¯re stuck in a prison mine! Are you willing to mine your way to freedom?</i>


    <i>Collect: 200/200 Tonnes of Ore</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.1 Strength, +0.1 Vitality</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] / No</i>


    <i>Quest Complete: An Ore-Able Time Part 2 Don¡¯t you feel arm-azing?</i>


    <i>Gained: +0.1 Strength, +0.1 Vitality</i>


    <i>Quest: An Ore-Able Time Part 3/10</i>


    <i>You¡¯re stuck in a prison mine! Are you willing to mine your way to freedom?</i>


    <i>Collect: 133.5/400 Tonnes of Ore</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.2 Strength, +0.2 Vitality</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] / No</i>


    Those were the basic Tiara quests, which made sense. Next came what I assumed was the first Barck quest. May he rot in the Nether.


    <i>Quest: The Mother of Necessity Part 1/10</i>


    <i>You¡¯re a broke prisoner! Can you create new uses for gunpowder to earn some gold? </i>


    <i>Create: 1/5 Uses</i>


    <i>Reward: [Quick Measure]</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>Yes /[No]</i>


    I¡¯d chuckled as I¡¯d hit [No] on that quest earlier this evening. Eat shit, Barck. The little guy strikes back! Honestly though, I think the only person I¡¯ll hurt by denying quests will be me. Don¡¯t care, it felt great! I¡¯ll probably ept any further quests from Barck in the future though. Maybe. I doodled some thorns and bloody knives in the margins.


    Then hade what I assumed was the [Alchemist] quest¡­ and a mystery. I read over it again and again, and I still couldn¡¯t believe my eyes.


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 1/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 2,500 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 2500/2500</i>


    <i>Reward: [Ingredient Scan]</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>Yes /No</i>


    What on Erd was this? A <i>quest</i> to make better beer? It was simply the most ridiculous thing I¡¯d seen since I got here, and I¡¯d seen a dwarf put a helmet on a <i>rock</i> to keep it safe.


    Jack is really attached to his pet rock.


    Anyway, this confirmed some of my suspicions and added some more. The Gods must be involved in my reincarnation here. I mean, <i>obviously </i>the Gods were involved in my reincarnation, but I meant in a more direct way. Some of the events and dwarves in this mining camp have really pushed me in a brewing direction, and now a quest like this? I¡­ needed to think on it. I love alcohol and brewing, and it was my whole life back home aside from my family. However, I was kind of being forced into it here. On the other hand, a whole new world where every drink I make is new and exciting to everyone and I have the Blessings of the Gods to do it? That¡¯s¡­


    I shivered, whether from excitement or a bit of terror I couldn¡¯t tell. I put down my notepad andid down on my bed, deep in thought. I didn¡¯t even notice when Balin came in, muttered something, and turned off the lights. I just continued to stare at the wall, thinking. I thought on new brews and Gods. I thought on Erd and Earth. I thought on beers and beards. I should have gone to sleep but my mind just wouldn¡¯t stop. Deep into the morning I pondered, and in my soul, I slowly solidified my answer.


    You know what? If the Gods wanted me to brew beer, <i>FINE</i>. I should be <i>dead</i>, and I was being given another opportunity to spend <i>hundreds of years</i> doing what I loved. So, thanks Gods! I¡¯ll do your beer quest! I¡¯ll influence every dwarf on this if that¡¯s what it takes! You guys may be pushy assholes, but you¡¯re not all that bad.


    Except you Barck, go eat goatshit.


    I went to click on ¡®Yes¡¯ and paused at another thought. There were about 50 or so dwarves in the camp¡­ So why did it say 2500 dwarves were already influenced? I mentally hit ¡®Yes¡¯ while I considered the problem.


    <i>Quest Complete: New Brew 1 Great Work!</i>


    <i>Gained: [Ingredient Scan]</i>


    I was about to check out [Ingredient Scan] when another quest appeared.


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 2/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 5,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 5000/5000</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.1 Perception, +0.1 Vitality</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>Yes /No</i>


    Wait? I''d influenced 5000 more dwarves? What was going on? I hit ¡®Yes¡¯.


    <i>Quest Complete: New Brew 2 Great Work!</i>


    <i>Gained: +0.1 Perception, +0.1 Vitality</i>


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 3/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 10,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 10000/10000</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.2 Perception, +0.2 Vitality</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>Yes /No</i>


    I started to rapid fire ¡®Yes¡¯ as a bit of panic began to set in. I¡¯d never left this prison! How had I influenced thousands of dwarves?!


    <i>Quest Complete: New Brew 3 Great Work!</i>


    <i>Gained: +0.2 Perception, +0.2 Vitality</i>


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 4/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 25,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 25000/25000</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.2 Perception, +0.2 Vitality</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] /No</i>


    <i>Quest Complete: New Brew 4 Great Work!</i>


    <i>Gained: +0.2 Perception, +0.2 Vitality</i>


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 5/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 50,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 50000/50000</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.5 Perception, +0.5 Vitality</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] /No</i>


    <i>Quest Complete: New Brew 5 Great Work!</i>


    <i>Gained: +0.5 Perception, +0.5 Vitality</i>


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 6/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 100,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 34,435/100,000</i>


    <i>Reward: [Carbonate]</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] /No</i>


    I was hyperventting a bit at the end. The count restarted from zero, so... ny¡­ one hundred¡­ six thousand¡­ ONE HUNDRED TWENTY SIX THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE DWARVES?!? I almost yelled out loud and then remembered it was way too early in the morning for that. How had I influenced that many dwarves without even leaving the prison!? Was this some kind of ¡®Truman Show¡¯ shit, and I was actually in a soap opera or on reality TV? It would exin <i>so much</i>, but no, that couldn¡¯t be it. More likely my radler had made it out into the wild somehow. Maybe Grim talked about it outside, or Doc Opal, or heck, even Speaker John.


    The sweet embrace of sleep called to me. Now that I had made the important decisions, I could worry about the number conundrumter. I took onest moment to look at my new Milestone and my massively updated status screen.


    <i>[Ingredient Scan]</i>


    <i>An alchemist often needs to forage for their own ingredients, whether in a field or a market. When you use [Ingredient Scan] you can scan a 200-meter zone around you for a particr ingredient. If any amount of the selected ingredient is present, you will learn its exact location and amount. This ability can be used once a minute.</i>


    <i>Status: Provided by the Firmament</i>


    <i>Name: Peter Phillips Samson Age: 49 ????????</i>


    <i>Conditions: None</i>


    <i>Race: Dwarf</i>


    <i>Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration]</i>


    <i>Title: [Alchemist]</i>


    <i>Milestones: [Outworlder], [Power Pick], [Ingredient Scan], [Stabilize Mixture]</i>


    <i>Strength 15.2</i>


    <i>Vitality 17.1</i>


    <i>Agility 11</i>


    <i>Dexterity 11</i>


    <i>Wisdom 13</i>


    <i>Intelligence 12</i>


    <i>Perception 15.1</i>


    <i>Charisma 11</i>


    Huh, my birthday passed. Happy Birthday to Meeeee.


    I was slowly starting to feel like some kind of Olympic athlete with my massive vitality. I hope that means more hit points or whatever analog to it exists in this crazy world. My strength still couldn¡¯t hold a candle to Wreck. I wonder why my charisma is still so low. I wonder why Barck sucks so much?


    What if something goes wrong tomorrow? I hope Sam wins his bet and I don¡¯t die somehow. I wonder what the [Engineers] are like? How does Bran keep his beard so well groomed in the kitchen? Will I like Minnova? Will I fit in? [Carbonate] looks pretty amazing if it is what I think think it is. Maybe I should have epted Barck''s quest...


    gued with thoughts and concerns about a suddenly wider and stranger world, I fell into fitful sleep. Today was the big day!

 Chapter 26: Fancy Dress Party

    <h4>Chapter 26: Fancy Dress Party</h4>


    I shuffled impatiently as we stood at the entrance to the camp. Soon, Balin and I would either be spending the next few years mining, or we¡¯d be free. We were joined by Speaker John, Doc Opal, and Grim. Almost all the Titled dwarves in the camp were here except for Whisperer Gemma. The rest of the prisoners were watching from behind us back in the camp. They had the day off from mining, and they weren¡¯t going to miss the show. I grumbled as I saw Sam taking thest bets on ¡®does Pete die today¡¯. Balin was stiff as a board beside me.


    ¡°Come on Balin, don¡¯t be nervous. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!¡± I nudged him and he almost tottered over.


    ¡°Because we¡¯re gonna die right after?¡± He squeaked.


    ¡°Nah, because we¡¯re going to meet a lot of Titled people at once!¡± One of the most important lessons I¡¯d learned in my life was the power ofworking. That one famous guy who loved Beavermoose and talked about it on air was all it took to make us rich. Hard work doesn¡¯t hurt, but making it biges from knowing the right people and a little bit of luck. We were about to get the <i>right people</i> served up to us on a silver tter.


    Apparently, the lead [Engineer] and his entire posse, plus some dwarves from City Administration with a capital C and A wereing. In other words, it was time to schmooze!


    ¡°Put the cinnamon back in yer shirt.¡± I adjusted Balin¡¯s necktie and pulled out my beard brush. He had an incorrigible tangle in his beard and it took me a while to get out. I also took a moment to consider his poor lopsided handlebar moustache. Ah well, maybe he could earn pity points for sacrificing his own facial hair to the cause.


    ¡°It stinks like cinnamon!¡± Balin hissed.


    ¡°That¡¯s the point! Better to smell like cinnamon than smell like prisoner!¡± I glowered at him until he acquiesced and returned to his nervous fidgeting. It was clear that he found the suit to be very ufortable. I brushed my own wavy brown beard and locks and checked my outfit.


    When I¡¯d heard from Grim that we had a whole paradeing through I¡¯d asked to borrow some proper business attire. He¡¯d raised an eyebrow, then obtained a pair of ¡®fashionable¡¯ clothes for me and Balin. I was currently dressed in a white shirt and three-piece style suit made out of some kind of linen. The suit was dark blue with a small stripe down the side and an understated checker pattern. Then, because dwarves, it had some chain sewed into the jacket and the vest was made of thick leather. There was also a set of leather greaves and a shiny leather skullcap with fur lining and a feather in it. It was like a mix between an adventuring outfit and a gangster¡¯s suit from the prohibition era.


    I loved it. It beat the heck out of wearing stinky faux armor all day. Now I could wear snazzy faux armor!


    Grim coughed as we saw a line of unigoatsing up the trail in the distance.


    ¡°These are some important people. I expect everyone ta be on their best behaviour? Got it?¡±


    ¡°Do you know any of them, Grim?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The head [Engineer] is a gnome named Copperpot. He has a few gnomes and dwarves working under him that will being as well. A couple of ¡®em are Titled but I don¡¯t know em.¡±


    ¡°Anything to know about Copperpot?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s sharp as an axe and likes straight talk. He¡¯ll hate you.¡±


    ¡°Ouch. He must love you.¡±


    Grim chuckled. ¡°Nah, he hates me too. He hates almost everybody. Comes from bein¡¯ thrice specialized.¡±


    ¡°So, he¡¯s got¡­ at least fifteen milestones?¡± I counted my own, four. One more to go!


    ¡°Aye, takes hundreds of years ta get that many. Most Titled never even get one! He¡¯s an [Arcanomechanical Civil Engineer].¡±


    ¡°A whosawhatsitnow?¡± That was a mouthful equal to Worcestershire! Civil Engineer was obvious, but what was Arcanomechanical? "Is that Magic Engineering?"


    Doc Opal leaned over. ¡°Arcanomechanical. He works on integrating magic with civil engineering projects, and designs magical buildings.¡± Wow, that sounded cool. I seemed to remember that was called arcanepunk back on earth, or something like that.


    ¡°What blessings make an [Engineer]? Archis and whom else?¡± They needed Archis for magic, and he was the god of knowledge so that made sense. Maybe the other God was Barck...


    ¡°No, Lunara and Barck. Why?¡± Speaker John asked. He had put some <i>bows </i>in his beard braids today! Looking good John!


    ¡°What? How can he do magic stuff if he doesn¡¯t have Archis¡¯s blessin?¡± I asked. Doc Opal looked struck for a moment.


    Speaker John nodded as he replied. ¡°It¡¯s amon misconception by most of the non-magemunity that the Blessing of Archis is required to do magic. Indeed, [Manasight] is necessary to perform any kind of work with Mana.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sensing a ''but''.¡± I was growing excited. Could this mean what I thought it meant?!


    ¡°Yes, some rare specializations can grant either a lesser form of [Manasight] or a way of doing basic magic without it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡± Opal mused.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t surprise me.¡± John nodded. ¡°Most of your training would have been physical and practical in nature.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we didn¡¯t really cover magic. Just enough to know how some magics interact with the healing process.¡± Opal shrugged. ¡°Sorry for leading you astray there, Peter.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so I could still learn magic? Even as an [Alchemist]?¡± I was practically vibrating now.


    Speaker John smiled. ¡°You eager to learn the deep ways of the world, Pete? Mana can do things Blessings can¡¯t, but it requires a lot of training! You¡¯ll need a bit of luck to get the right Specialization though.¡±


    Don¡¯t Care! Magic! My mind began to buzz with ideas on getting the right specialization. Since all this stuff seemed to be based on the moment, maybe I could try using some of that Arcanomechanical stuff in the beer making process. Perhaps that would get me something like [Arcanomechanical Alchemist]. That would be SWEET!


    With the thought of getting magic again I could feel my anger at Barck unraveling. Then I furrowed my brow and held on to it; it wasn''t just about the magic. Barck had taken my choice, and until l got a decent exnation for that, I was going remain on the ''I hate Barck'' train. Maybe I''d forgive him if he taught me how to get a magic based Specialization.


    ¡°Why is someone so importanting out for this?¡± I asked, as the procession slowly moved closer.


    ¡°He said he wanted to meet you.¡± Grim¡¯s grin was sharp as a shark''s.


    Oh.


    ---


    The procession slowly made its way into view. There were just over a dozen people in the group. From some fairly heavily armored dwarven guards, to someone in a shocking amount of red, to what looked like people wearing doublets and those weird poofy pants. What¡¯re those pants called, bombasts? That seemed appropriate for the asion! They were also pulling a brightly coloured cart behind them. It had some glowing letters carved into the side that were visible even from this distance. I think they were runes, and they were clearly doing something magical to the cart, which didn¡¯t jostle or wiggle an inch as it came up the rocky path.


    ¡°Here theye.¡± Whispered Grim. ¡°Engineer Copperpot is the one leading, and the dwarfess in the magenta hauberk chain mail is Statustician Diamond from City Administration. They¡¯re the big names in the group.¡± Well, that answered the ¡®what to call a female dwarf¡¯ question.


    ¡°A statistician?¡± I whispered back. ¡°Is she here to audit the experiment?¡±


    ¡°No, a [Statustician],¡± Said Doc Opal, ¡°she can read statuses. She¡¯s quite nice, I like her.¡± Speaker John adjusted his braids and pulled out a hand mirror. Oho!


    ¡°She¡¯s very pretty too?¡± I asked, ensuring John could hear.


    ¡°Oh, very. She has a gorgeous red beard and a temper to match. She also ys a mean game of hammercup. She went to university with John, didn¡¯t she John?¡± Opal nudged John in the ribs and he started.


    ¡°Huh? Oh yes, Statustician Diamond is very intelligent and good look- I, I, I mean good at her work.¡± He blushed. Wow, I¡¯ve never seen Speaker John be anything other than stoic and taciturn. This was amazing! Go Opal!


    ¡°How well do you know her, Opal?¡± I asked, keeping an eye on Speaker John.


    ¡°I met her on the job and we got to talking." Opal said, "I¡¯d call her more than a work acquaintance but not quite a best friend. She¡¯s well spoken and well read, with a delightful sense of humour, and she enjoys her sweets too. Though not as much as me. Is that a box of choctes I see hiding behind your back John?¡±


    John coughed and turned as magenta as the approaching dwarfess.


    ¡°What does a [Statustician] do?¡± I asked, as the parade entered the final approach to our rise.


    ¡°She works with City Administration to find and catch criminal Titled. She can read status screens, which allows her to search for illegal or restricted Titles.¡± Grim interjected.


    ¡°Those exist? What are they?¡±


    Speaker John spoke up, desperate to change the subject. ¡°A-hem. Most banned Titles are based off of Yearn of Nether.¡±


    ¡°Well, that seems unfair. Why single her out?¡±


    ¡°You see,¡± John continued, his voice turning schrly. ¡°Most Nether blessings provide a Title that is the manifest opposite of the Blessing it is paired with. The mostmon examples would be Nether and Possessionsbining to create a [Swindler] or Nether and Freedom creating a [Jailer].¡±


    ¡°Huh, interesting. So, Diamond likes her dwarves smart, Doc?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, we talked about it at length over tea and cakes. She also likes dwarves that aren¡¯t afraid to ent their look. She likes colour, Diamond does.¡± Opal winked at me. John turned practically purple as his hands pulled at the bows in his beard.


    ¡°Shut it.¡± Grim hissed. ¡°They¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I asked, in dawning horror as the group crested the hill up to the camp, ¡°Can she can read Blessings and Milestones too?¡± I had that [Otherworlder] Milestone! Solen¡¯s socks, there¡¯s never a handy lead sheet around when you needed it to block magic x-rays!


    ¡°Yep.¡± Answered Grim. I tamped down a surge of panic and calmed myself. Just don¡¯t act suspicious Pete, and besides, literally everyone knows you¡¯re an [Alchemist]. Unless they think I lied¡­


    We all stood to attention as the first unigoats entered conversation range. The guards came in first and split around us. Half of them went to stand between us and the camp while the rest stayed with their charges. There were eight te-d dwarven guards, four gnomes, and three dwarves.


    The gnome at the front of the line hopped off his unigoat. He had a shock white moustache that drooped down to his shoulders, and a tiny goatee. He also had thergest set of coke-bottle sses I¡¯ve ever seen,plete with more glowing runes. He was wearing a grey doublet and a set of brown bombasts. Also, he had on an honest to the Gods beanie,plete with a tiny propeller that was slowly spinning.


    ¡°[Administrator] Grim.¡± He nodded at Grim as his eyes swept over us. He had a voice that was creaky with age, but firm and confident. Doc Opal¡¯s eyes widened in shock.


    ¡°[Administrator]!¡± She cried. ¡°Grim, you cabbage. You never said a word!¡± Grim smirked slyly.


    ¡°Opal, as enthusiastic as ever.¡± The elderly gnome nodded at her.


    ¡°Hello Engineer Copperpot. I haven¡¯t seen you since my Doctorate days.¡±


    ¡°I heard from my colleagues that your thesis was a marvel.¡± He smiled at her.


    We were joined by the magenta dressed female dwarf. The slight purple of her hauberk and her silver te ents were offset by an incredibly fiery beard shaped into twin drills. Her hair was simrly coloured, with fine ringlets.


    ¡°Opall!¡± She cried, opening her arms. She and Opal shared a brief hug as she turned to Grim.


    ¡°Lustre sends her regards Grim. I ran into her outside Lord Rodson¡¯s office.¡±


    ¡°Thankee Diamond. Is she doin well?¡±


    ¡°Looks chipper as ever. I¡¯m excited to see this mine where the Blessings fall like rain!¡± Diamond¡¯s eyes roved over the camp.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s unbelievable Diamond¡± Opal rolled her eyes. ¡°Another party nearly every month.¡±


    ¡°You poor thing.¡± Diamond poked Opal in the side. ¡°Have they been fattening you up?¡±


    ¡°Enough Diamond, we have business to do.¡± Copperpot interrupted. He walked up to me and Balin, who had been dead silent this entire time. ¡°So, you two are the ones behind this operation?¡±


    ¡°Yessir!¡± I held out my hand and he shook it. ¡°Peter Samson. Thank you so much for takin the time out of your schedule toe and see us. We¡¯re lookin forward to seein your ns.¡± Balin just nodded and made a slight leaking sound. Come on Balin, pull it together!


    ¡°Yes, I did take time out of my schedule.¡± Copperpot nodded, his face turning serious. ¡°It¡¯s a shame the recipe you sent us is worthless.¡±


    <i>Excuse</i> me?

 Chapter 27: Boomdust

    <h4>Chapter 27: Boomdust</h4>


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I couldn¡¯t believe my ears. This pint sized, over-moustached, propeller capped egghead said gunpowder was worthless? ¡°Do you have the correct recipe?" I wanted to follow that up with ¡®and did you do it right¡¯, but figured now wasn¡¯t the time. It was also possible that this was a high-pressure sales technique. I could feel my old business brain clicking into gear; I was a bit rusty, but skills honed for that long didn''t disappear overnight. It did feel nice to be back in my element!


    ¡°Hmmm, well the recipe you gave Grim called for potassium nitrate, charcoal, and sulfur in a 75/12.5/12.5 ratio.¡± The gnome listed off the ingredients on his fingers. Opal and Diamond were chatting off to the side, and Grim was listening in on us. The other gnomes and dwarves were currently unpacking a bunch of machinery and barrels from the red wagon.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. We tested it and it worked out great.¡± I turned to Balin for approval and he just nodded stiffly.


    ¡°Well, we did too and it was barely worth our time.¡± The gnome adjusted his sses and scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that we can¡¯t give you much for it as is.¡±


    ¡°What happened? Can you exin? You can see from my colleague¡¯s poor moustache that he suffered greatly when we did our test. We had a pretty big bang!¡± I pointed at Balin who turned white as a sheet. Sorry for putting you on the spot Balin.


    ¡°I see.¡± Copperpot leaned over and peered at Balin¡¯s face. ¡°Well, the problem was with the recipe you sent.¡±


    ¡°We used the exact same recipe you just told me, how was it a problem?¡±


    ¡°Well, that depends. Were you the one that came up with the form?¡± He turned a predatory gaze my way.


    I opened my mouth to go with the old standby, amnesia, and paused. This guy was super smart, like magically super smart. Lies weren¡¯t going to work, so let¡¯s go with half-truths. ¡°I made my first batch a few weeks ago. The sulfur ignites the charcoal, and the potassium nitrate acts as a catalyst. The resulting burn happens so fast that it causes an explosion.¡± That was the most I could bullshit with my limited chemistry knowledge; I didn¡¯t really know how gunpowder worked.


    ¡°Hmm..¡± He peered over his sses, ¡°Well that¡¯s a rough approximation, I¡¯m surprised you were able toe up with it. There is however, a problem.¡± He walked over to the carriage and beckoned me to follow. Grim came alongside, clearly interested in the proceedings. Balin stayed behind as we walked, and I hoped he hadn¡¯t fainted on his feet. Engineer Copperpot beckoned to a young gnomess wearing a white smock-frock and leather apron as we approached. She had a bright, eager smile, and for a moment I was painfully reminded of my daughter. ¡°Lillyweather, the gunpowder please.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Professor.¡± She nodded and went into the cart. She came out with a small red cask inscribed with white letters. I leaned over to read them; they were various symbols of skulls and mes and such.


    ¡°Are those WHMIS- I mean safety symbols?¡± I asked. They certainly had that look, ¡°Wait! This is a cask full of gunpowder!¡± I took a step back as Copperpot carelessly handled the cask. ¡°Be careful with that, a barrel of this stuff is a bomb! [Stabilize Mixture]!¡±


    ¡°You made this recipe and you can recognize hazardous material symbology? You must be trained, but your folder said you were a hapless drifter...¡± He pulled at his moustache. ¡°I sent a message to the Capital Administration and they said your records are essentially nonexistent. No schooling, estranged from family, and recently arrived in Minnova. It also said you were suffering from amnesia, is that no longer the case?¡±


    ¡°No, I still can¡¯t remember anything about my life in Crack from before I arrived in Minnova Prison Mine.¡± I shook my head sadly as I spoke another half-truth. ¡°By the way, how should I address you? She called you Professor, and Doctor Opal mentioned something about a university?¡±


    As we talked, Copperpot took us away from the group to a small rise. ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about the powder, I had the [Alchemists] use [Stabilize Mixture] on it already. As to your question, Copperpot is fine. If we are going to work together, I¡¯d prefer to avoid a situation where the extra seconds required to say ¡®Engineering Professor Copperpot look out!¡¯ results in a lost limb.¡± He winked at me.


    Oho! The ¡®serious but with a sense of humour¡¯ type. I''d been worried Copperpot was one of those overbearing academic types, but this I could work with. Copperpot began to dump some ck powder out of the small barrel. Instead of asking more questions I simply quietly observed, ensuring that Copperpot could see me absorbing everything he did. He smiled softly, and continued his work until there was a small mound. ¡°Step back a bit.¡±


    I took a couplerge steps back and heughed with a bit of a wheeze. ¡°Hah! Not that far. You¡¯ll see.¡± He pulled a small red-tinged stone out of his pocket. He tossed it towards the pile and muttered ¡°[Safety Shield]¡±. We were suddenly surrounded by a translucent barrier as the red stonended on the pile, and¡­


    Not much happened. The pile sparked, then caught fire and was consumed with a gout of me and billowing ck smoke. It was more of a fwoosh than a bang. Grim¡¯s voice came from right behind me and I almost jumped. ¡°That¡¯s not right. It made a big bang when Pete set it off before.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well that was because the recipe was wrong. Who purchased the charcoal?¡± Copperpot asked as the barrier fell away.


    ¡°I did.¡± Grim said. ¡°Was there somethin wrong with it?¡±


    ¡°The opposite actually. I don¡¯t think you realized because it¡¯s somonly used Grim, but you bought Fireash charcoal.¡± Copperpot held out an admonishing finger. ¡°Pete could have been badly injured!¡±


    ¡°Ach, you¡¯re right! I never even thought about it!¡± Grim smacked his hand against his helmet and it rang like a bell. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Pete.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, what¡¯s Fireash?¡± I asked, as they didn¡¯t seem interested in expounding on it.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Minnovan export.¡± Copperpot said, as he called over Lillyweather and handed her the small cask. ¡°A tree monster in the dungeon that rapidly and furiouslybusts if ignited. It¡¯s where sparkvinees from as well. If a Fireash corpse is properly treated, it can used to make charcoal that is famous for its powerful heating properties.¡±


    ¡°And Grim gave me that to make gunpowder?!¡± I asked in dawning horror.


    ¡°Yes. That is the danger of asking ayman to purchase your experimental supplies.¡± Copperpot looked at me disapprovingly. ¡°Why did you ask Grim to do it anyway?¡±


    ¡°I asked Grim, because¡­¡± I paused, ¡°because¡­¡± At this point we had been joined by Diamond and Opal who hade to see what all the smoke and sparks were about.


    ¡°Sunnovabitch!¡± Opal actually squeaked as I swore out loud. ¡°Tim never got me any charcoal! He owes me back that silver!¡± I turned towards the camp, trying to see if I could spot him. It had been several weeks since Grim had gotten me the charcoal and Tim had never once mentioned returning the silver I¡¯d given him!


    ¡°I see.¡± Diamond said, looking me over. ¡°I think it¡¯s as you said Grim.¡±


    ¡°Looks like.¡± Grim nodded.


    ¡°Ah, is this why you came, Diamond?¡± Copperpot said.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked, as I turned back to the group.


    ¡°Can I see your status, Pete?¡± Diamond asked,ing over to stand beside me.


    ¡°Uh.¡± I took a step back. ¡°That¡¯s kind of a personal question there, Diamond. We should get to know each other first, maybe over some beer? Or maybe a radler? Have you had one?¡± Like Yearn I¡¯m letting this maroon menace look at my status!


    ¡°Is that the drink Opal was just telling me about? I¡¯d love to try some, but no, I want to see if you have any conditions in your Status. If it makes you ufortable, I can assure you as per Section 4, Article 15 of the City of Minnova Ordinances V. 221, I am not allowed to look at anything other than what I have received permission for unless you are suspected of a crime.¡±


    Odd, with the number of dwarves I had influenced in town, I figured radlers must have been a thing by now. ¡°So you¡¯ll only look at my Conditions? Why?¡±


    ¡°We think someone has been using a forgetfulness Blessin or Milestone on ya Pete.¡± Grim said.


    ¡°What!¡± I was shocked. Why on Erd would someone target me with something like that? It sounded dangerous! ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me?¡±


    ¡°Forcefully breaking someone out from any kind of mind maniption can be dangerous without proper preparation.¡± Doc Opal pulled at her beard. ¡°Diamond was here to assess you and look for the culprit.¡±


    Holy shit! Someone was doing that to me!? "Will you be able to tell just by looking at my status?"


    ¡°Yes, mind maniption doesn¡¯t show up when you look at your own conditions, but if someone else knows to look they can see it.¡± Diamond nodded. ¡°May I proceed?¡±


    ¡°If you can promise it¡¯s just to look at my conditions, I don''t like the idea of someone staring at my status.¡±


    ¡°Very well¡±


    *bing*


    <i>[Statustician] Diamond has asked to look at your conditions.</i>


    <i>Do you agree</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I mentally clicked on ''Yes'' and hoped I wasn¡¯t making a terrible mistake. Diamond looked me over then nodded. ¡°Yes, it says [Forgetfulness: Recovering]. Can you take me to the dwarf in question Grim?¡±


    Grim nodded. ¡°Aye, follow me. Whisperer Gemma is watchin him.¡±


    ¡°Who was it!¡± I demanded angrily. Who in the camp disliked me enough to do something like that? I thought back on the conversation we¡¯d just had. ¡°Was it Tim?!¡±


    ¡°Not sayin¡¯ till we¡¯re sure Pete. We¡¯re dealin with it, you stay with Engineer Copperpot.¡± Grim and Diamond headed towards the camp with two of the guards. We watched them go.


    ¡°Well, that was interesting.¡± Copperpot nodded sagely. ¡°Are you ready to go to the mine and test the boomdust?¡±


    ¡°Boomdust?¡± I asked, my mind still reeling. Could it have been Tim? How could he do this to me? I¡¯d thought up until this point that dwarves were generally bullheaded, but kind hearted and forgiving. This threw my entire Erdview into question.


    ¡°Yes, gunpowder is a stupid name. Nobody can tell me what a gun is, and you¡¯re clearly not a reliable source at the moment. You can keep gunpowder as the name for your recipe, but I¡¯m calling the Fireash variant boomdust!¡± He turned to his assistants, who had fully unpacked the carriage by this point. ¡°Everyone move out! Into the mine, and be very careful with all the equipment!¡±


    I snapped back to reality. "Hoooold it! I still get money from boomdust right? Even if I sent the wrong recipe, my original experiment was correct. Do I need to get awyer?"


    "Boomdust waspletely your invention, even if you got the recipe wrong. Don''t worry, you''ll still get paid, but I get my name on it as a co-inventor." He winked.


    I nodded. "Well, that''s alright then."


    Copperpot gave me a wide smile. ¡°If that''s everything, are you ready to make a really Big Boom, Peter?¡±


    I cheered up a bit. Who could turn down a capital ¡®B¡¯ Big Boom?


    "Lead on, Copperpot!¡± I followed, deep in thought, as we made our way into the mine.

 Chapter 28: BIG BOOM

    <h4>Chapter 28: BIG BOOM</h4>


    I walked in silence while Copperpot ordered his grad students around. I found out from Lillyweather that most of them were staying on as research assistants because Copperpot was the biggest genius this side of Nik Te. There were a lot of boxes and barrels to be moved, along with what looked like a giant drill. They were setting the drill up on the minecart tracks, and there was nothing for me to really do at the moment. I had grabbed Balin and pulled him along but he wasn¡¯t much good for conversation right now either.


    That meant I had a moment to digest the news about my mind being attacked, and I was realizing that I had a lot of internalized prejudices about dwarves I needed to unpack. I med Tolkien, but a lot of the faultid with me too. Doc Opal had said I was being standoffish, and I thought I had gotten over it, but I was just now realizing the real root of the issue. It wasn¡¯t because I was judging their society, and it wasn¡¯t the bad beer; it had been a problem with me, and it wasn¡¯t the first time.


    Back when I was in college I had a lot of buddies, especially as my mead side hustle swung into gear. They ranged from good friends to hangers on to those just trying to get free alcohol off of me. There were two people that really stood out though: Michael from London, and Jebediah from Texas. In a sea of west-coasters they were the only two with really heavy ents. Well, there were numerous Japanese, Chinese and Korean students, but Jeb and Michael each had an ent all their own.


    Michael had the thickest British ent you could imagine, of the deep and husky David Attenborough variety. You could have put him in a miniseries about the royal family and he¡¯d have made a believable King of Ennd. Michael milked that ent to the nines, and was incredibly popr with a certain subset of the girls on campus. Everyone talked about how <i>smart</i> and <i>cultured</i> Michael was.


    On the other hand, Jeb had the most stereotypical, hillbilly, southern US ent that I¡¯d ever heard. It made him almost impossible to understand and people judged him horribly over it. The incest jokes and chainsaw massacre cracks followed Jeb around for the entire four years that he was in college with us. People always assumed Jeb was dumb, and nobody ever wanted to work with him on group projects.


    The worst part was that it was in fact the exact opposite. Michael was dumb as rocks, and nearly failed every course. On the other hand, Jeb was a business whiz, and when I figured that out in second year, I took advantage of it to get his help whenever I was struggling. He was happy to trade some tutoring for a bottle or two of whiskey mead. Jeb leveraged the prejudice that people treated him with by ying up the ¡®dumb hillbilly¡¯ act until he pulled the rug out at thest moment. People were so blinded by their prejudices that they didn¡¯t see the person behind the ent.


    Last I¡¯d heard Michael was a used car salesman in Bradbury and Jeb had actually be my ountant along with half of the vineyards in the Okanogan. I figured I¡¯d learned my lesson about entism then, but it was rearing its ugly head again.


    I¡¯d been severely underestimating the dwarves. Their ents and demeanours and my own prejudices about dwarves from years of dwarven pop culture had been making me judge them as a race rather than as people. Whether it was treating Balin like he wasn¡¯t smart enough to keep up, or bossing Bran around in his own kitchen, or thinking Tim was a simpletim, it was clear I had fallen into bad habits.


    Right here and now some gnomes and dwarves that were obviously way smarter than I¡¯d ever be were setting up a massive science experiment. It was humbling, and it was a humble pie I needed to eat right now.


    <i>Wisdom has increased by 1.</i><i>Your new Wisdom is 14!</i>


    See? Even the Gods thought I¡¯d been a dumbass and it was time to make some changes. I turned to Balin, who was riveted to the proceedings.


    ¡°Hey Balin? Balin? Baaaalin?¡± I waved my hand in front of him.


    ¡°Yeah Pete?¡±


    ¡°I have something to tell you when we get out of here. It¡¯s about my past.¡±


    ¡°Uh, ok. You remember something?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I''ll tell you when we''re free.¡±


    Balin nodded back, and as he turned away I pulled out ab and brushed my beard. Yes, life as a dwarf was just... perfect.


    ---


    ¡°Well, what do you think, Peter?¡± Copperpot had approached while I was talking to Balin and broken into our conversation with the practiced ease of someone in upper management. He pointed at the drill his students had assembled. "Isn''t it glorious?"


    ¡°Pete is fine. It¡¯s a nice piece o¡¯ machinery. Does it run on magic?¡± I looked it up and down. It was as shiny and fancy looking as a ¡®67 Mustang. I had some basic tinkering knowledge from my work with stills, but this was beyond me.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct and incorrect.¡± Copperpot pointed at some stones set in a container at the base of the drill. ¡°The drill runs off of the raw mana contained in cores taken from monsters within the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°So why do we use picks instead of drills like this when we mine?¡± Gods, it would make this work a lot easier.


    ¡°A pertinent question. It¡¯s due to expense. There is a limited supply of cores, but a somewhat ready supply of inmates with picks.¡± Copperpot¡¯s eyes glittered with his not-so-subtle jab.


    ¡°Sometimes an inmate can have a ¡®higher perspective¡¯ that an academic mightck.¡± I retorted as I stood at my full height. Copperpot was fairly short, even for a gnome, and only came up to my chest.


    ¡°They make up for it with a poor prospective¡±. Copperpot shot back.


    "I disagree," I countered, "When you''re in a mine, you learn some of the <i>best</i> prospecting."


    ¡°Hah, well yed sir, I tip my beanie to the superior wordsmith.¡± He made a small bow and Grim stifled a groan from behind us.


    ¡°How in Yearns yams are you two gettin¡¯ along so well?¡±


    Copperpot and I looked at each other and grinned.


    ¡°You¡¯re just not twisty enough to understand, Administrator Grim.¡± Copperpot said.


    ¡°Thank the Gods for that.¡± Grim muttered.


    We went back to ignoring him.


    ¡°Excuse me Professor, and Alchemist.¡± A bright voice interrupted.


    ¡°Yes, Lillyweather?¡± Copperpot nodded at the young gnomess who had appeared beside us.


    ¡°Could you step aside, please? We are going to move the drill now.¡±


    ¡°Of course. This way Pete.¡±


    We moved over as the gaggle of grads began to push the drill down the mrack. I could see some little wheels spinning underneath it. Neat.


    We let the drill cart get far ahead of us before we followed after. The long straight nature of the main mineshaft meant that sound echoed terribly up and down the tunnel. It had been impossible to concentrate, let alone chat, with the rumble of the cart traveling down the track. The walls down here were strung with solstones and a slight orange glow outlined everything. It smelled of damp stone and future dreams.


    ¡°What¡¯s the n?¡± I asked, curious to see how the engineer had solved the mining problem.


    "I''ll exinter, I need to do some due diligence."


    As we made our way down, Copperpot stayed busy by checking the walls and the rafters. He pulled out a notepad and took notes in it every few meters. By the time we reached the end of the tunnel the grad students already had the drill up against the mine wall and were getting ready to power it up. Copperpot gave it a once over and then dered it ready.


    ¡°Excellent! It is time to sup from the bounty of Tiara¡¯s teat! Start up the drill!¡±


    Ew. The drill started up with a whine and soon dust was pouring into the tunnel. Everyone had masks on except Copperpot. The beanie on his head began to whirl and the dust eddied around and away from him. I stood beside him to take advantage of his personal protective equipment; the boss always has the best PPE.


    ¡°Can you tell me the n, <i>now</i>!?¡± I shouted over the roar of the drill.


    ¡°Boomdust shows the greatest power when it is fully contained!¡± Copperpot shouted back. ¡°We are going to drill some deep holes and then pour boomdust in! If our calctions are correct, that should provide enough force to st the rock apart!¡±


    ¡°I thought the drill was expensive! How is this better than using the mining picks!?¡±


    ¡°While it won¡¯t rece picks for dives, the main tunnel is always the most expensive part of any mining operation! If this method can significantly reduce the time for carving the main tunnel, it offsets the cost of the drill!¡± Copperpot smiled wolfishly. ¡°Also, Fireash charcoal and sparkvine are primarily Minnovan exports, so if this gets adopted everywhere it means a lot of gold for the city!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget Balin and I!¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯ll take a while!¡± Copperpot chuckled.


    I could live with that. I had hundreds of years to wait!


    Soon the mineshaft was filled with dust as well as some fluid they were using to keep the drill cooled and lubricated. Copperpot checked and double-checked each step. Eventually the drilling stopped and the grad students took some red barrels and began to pour their contents into the holes. I subconsciously backed up a bit. ¡°Want me to use [Stabilize Mixture] on those?¡±


    ¡°If it will make you feel better. It¡¯s not really necessary though.¡± Copperpot said offhandedly. I did, it made me feel better.


    Eventually the barrels were all emptied and the holes were capped. Everything was cleared away and a long string of sparkvine was wheeled up the mineshaft. We followed behind while Copperpot ordered cleanup and thest few safety procedures. Soon enough we were standing back under the light of the stars.


    ¡°Alright! We should be safe here!¡± Copperpot handed me the end of the sparkvine. ¡°Would you care to do the honours, Pete?¡±


    It was do or die. Copperpot handed me a small red stone he called a ¡®me infused aetherstone, or firestone¡¯ and I held it up to the sparkvine. It sparked, and began hissing down the line. We all waited with baited breath. Just as I was beginning to worry that the whole thing had misfired ¨C


    <strong>*BOOM*</strong>


    I felt my ears pop, and while no dust poured out of the tunnel, the ground did feel like it shivered. That may have been my imagination though.


    ¡°Good work everyone! Shall we go see the results?¡± Copperpot pointed into the tunnel and we all descended back into the earth.

 Chapter 29: Tannins

    <h4>Chapter 29: Tannins</h4>


    The end of the tunnel was over a kilometer away, and we were taking it slow.


    ¡°Rafter crew! Check on the supports!¡± Copperpot shouted. The overall d dwarves I¡¯d seen during Balin¡¯s rescue got to work climbing the walls as we made our way down the tunnel. ¡°Excellent, I don¡¯t see any real damage to the tunnel structure¡­¡± Copperpot leaned in, and I could see his sses telescoping outwards.


    ¡°What do you think? Was the experiment a sess?¡± I was nervous, and Balin wasn¡¯t helping, as he rubbed his hands and practically jittered beside me. I could understand, as we were about to see if he would be with hisdy love next week or next decade.


    ¡°Well, the boomdust certainly went Boom!¡± Copperpot smiled.


    ¡°Broke my ears.¡± Grumbled Grim.


    ¡°It was quite loud, Professor,¡± Lillyweather said from beside us. ¡°Perhaps next time we should have ear covering even when we are outside the mine?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I didn¡¯t take into ount the focusing nature of the tunnel on the sound. Make a note of it please, Lillyweather.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Professor.¡±


    The party continued down the tunnel like that for a while. The rafter crew would go up and check the wooden supports, Copperpot would examine the walls with his sses, and everyone would take notes. Every once in a while, someone ran down a dive tunnel to see if there had been impact to them.


    I looked around and realized we were actually stuffed in here pretty tight. Between the four guards that hade with us, the five grad students, the four-man rafter crew, Grim, Balin, and Copperpot, we were standing shoulder to shoulder at times.


    I held Balin back so we weren¡¯t in the way. I didn¡¯t want to cause any problems at this stage, not when we were so close. Grim stayed near the front and helped Copperpot direct the rafter crew. One guard peeled off and stuck to us. I didn¡¯t want to shoo him away, so I did my best to ignore him and turned to Balin.


    ¡°Do you think it worked?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Sounded like it ta me Pete.¡± Balin hissed back. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe ya made somethin¡¯ like that.¡±


    ¡°¡¯We¡¯, ¡®we¡¯ made it Balin!¡±


    ¡°Say what ya want, but it was yer idea Pete.¡±


    ¡°What matters is that we both get credit for our indenture.¡±


    ¡°True enough. I can¡¯t wait ta see Annie again!¡±


    Eventually Copperpot came back to chat with us as a bored looking Grim followed behind.


    ¡°Everything good?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes, I wanted to ensure the rafter crew waspetent enough to spot any problems. They have proven their excellence, and I am confident enough to leave them to their work.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t want to make em nervous, eh?¡± Gods knew I¡¯d had difficulty with that when I first became the boss. I¡¯d checked every employee¡¯s work, ensured every single job was done to exacting standards, and practically ridden my first workers until they''d nearly quit. Thankfully, Caroline sat me down and exined what an ass I was being before it was toote.


    Coach, instruct, and then leave it to the proven professionals; don¡¯t micromanage.


    ¡°Nothing quite like a bigwig standing underneath you while you hammer on the ceiling to give someone the shakes.¡± Copperpot agreed. ¡°So what is this radler that you and Statustician Diamond were discussing?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a mixture of¡­¡± I shut my mouth with a *ck*. Wow, I''ve been giving out a <i>ton</i> of recipes for free in here. I was so used to getting anything I wanted off the inte that I had forgotten even ¡®basic¡¯ information could hold value. On Earth I could just look up a radler recipe online, but here I was the only resource.


    Except for Bran, but I had ways to silence him. Having a sharp mind like Copperpot trying to ferret out my secrets was really helping me get my ¡®A game¡¯ back! That or the bonus wisdom.


    ¡°The exact recipe is something I worked out with Bran. It¡¯s currently a trade secret.¡± I practically purred. ¡°It has been sessful enough that I am considering some investors though. If you¡¯re interested, we could discuss-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just lemonade mixed with beer.¡± Grim interrupted from behind us. Copperpotughed out loud.


    ¡°Barck¡¯s beard, Grim!¡± I whirled on him. ¡°Why would you do that!?¡± Grim just gave me another shark tooth grin.


    ¡°Ahahaha!¡± Copperpot wiped some tears from his eyes. ¡°Sorry Pete, looks like the lemon is out of the bag on that one. Still¡­ lemonade and beer?¡± He pulled at his moustache. ¡°Lemonade is more of a gnomish drink. I¡¯m surprised that a dwarf was willing to ah, contaminate, their sacred brew with it.¡±


    ¡°I did hear that gnomes don¡¯t drink much beer.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s too sour for our tastes. Most gnomes prefer dry vours like teas and coffees though some prefer the sweet sugary taste of juice.¡±


    We chatted about tea and coffee for a while as we walked. Apparently Copperpotes from a family of gnomish oligarchs that own a tea business in Minnova. They are one of the main distributors of teas and coffees to all of Crack. At first I was desperately imagining cappinos, but then a thought slowly began to take form in the back of my mind.


    ¡°Copperpot, what if I could make a beer that gnomes would like?¡±


    ¡°That would be interesting. How?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯splicated, but I could probably whip up something eptable.¡± I considered what was safe to tell him without giving too much away. If I yed my cards right I could gain Copperpot''s interest. Right now that outvalued any money I could gain from the information as long as I didn''t give too much away. ¡°Since your family sells tea, do you understand the concept of tannins?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ I''ve heard of them, but can¡¯t say I''m overly familiar. It''s not my area of study, though it is part of my family''s business."


    "What do you know?"


    "I know they''re in nts, but not much else."


    ¡°Let''s see if I can exin ... You understand that acids are sour, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes, obviously.¡± Copperpot looked askance at me.


    ¡°Well, tannins are chemicalpounds that make the tart vour you¡¯d associate with ck teas. They¡¯re bitter and astringent and leave your mouth and tongue feeling kind of dry. On the other hand, sour is a taste that leaves your mouth feeling watery and puckered, like some fruit teas.¡±


    ¡°Oho, you know some of the secrets of tea!¡± Copperpot jabbed a finger in my direction. ¡°Were you trained somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I know about it because I¡¯m interested in brewing. Tannins are important for beer brewing too.¡±


    ¡°Truly? How so? I wouldn¡¯t think that beer has much inmon with tea.¡± Copperpot''s eyes sparkled with academic interest.


    I squared my shoulders and spoke authoritatively. ¡°First, you need to understand that tannins are a natural part of most vegetation. They are a preservative, and they form an outer coating on nts to help them survive winter. You get a lot of them on grapes, which is why red wine is often so dry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve had wine? I haven¡¯t even had any, it¡¯s very expensive.¡± Copperpot raised his curly eyebrows at me.


    ¡°Uh, so I¡¯ve heard, anyway. When you mash your malt, it adds some tannins into the wort. Those tannins stay in the brew and help keep the acidity of the beer from overwhelmin¡¯ your taste buds. The erdroot used in the local malt doesn¡¯t need to survive winter, so it¡¯s got no tannins in it. That makes tha beer a bit one dimensional.¡± Most beers got their tannin from the husks of the nt used to make the malt. Rice beer has some of the most tannins in it, and wheat beer has some of the lowest. Here in Crack theck of any tannins in dwarvish beer was just another thing to dislike about it.


    ¡°Interesting. I don''t really know what mash and wort are, but I can extrapte them well enough from the context."


    "Ah, sorry. Do you need me to exin?"


    "No, that''s quite alright." Copperpot looked me over. "Pete, you seem to know a lot about vour, and you¡¯re quick on the uptake. Are you looking for work when youplete your indenture? My family might be interested in someone with a unique point of view.¡±


    Score! While a job working for a gnomish oligarch family sounded appealing, it wasn¡¯t really what I wanted. It made for a nice failsafe though.


    ¡°No, sorry, I want to work in a brewery.¡±


    ¡°A brewery, really? How do you n to get into one? They are very selective in who they employ.¡± Copperpot pointed out. ¡°Most are kept within the family.¡±


    ¡°I have a friend that¡¯s letting me work at hers.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a lucky break! Praise Barck!¡±


    Ugh, I¡¯d rather not.


    ---


    After an interminable amount of time filled with constant stops to check the integrity of the tunnel, we reached a location that was coated in a fine dust.


    ¡°Alright everyone! Keep a sharp eye out!¡± Copperpotmanded. ¡°We¡¯ve reached the st zone, and I want you to take note of every single detail! Leave nothing out!¡±


    Every grad student had a notepad in hand in an instant, and the sound of furious scribbling soon filled the tunnel. I was getting incredibly bored, and Balin and I had taken to discussing our ns upon leaving the mine. He wanted to go straight to Annie¡¯s and I wanted to scope things out for a day or two first. However, our discussion was suddenly interrupted by a pair of blue boxes that popped into my vision.


    *bing*


    <strong><i>Survive</i></strong>


    <i>You have disturbed a monstrous brood! Can you survive long enough for help to arrive?</i>


    <i>This is a timed quest. Time remaining: 16 minutes.</i>


    <i>Reward: +0.1 Vitality</i>


    <i>Do you ept this quest?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong><i>y</i></strong>


    <i>You are encountering monsters for the first time! Show off your otherworldly prowess and y them!</i>


    <i>in: 0/10 Monsters</i>


    <i>Reward: [Basic sh]</i>


    <i>Do you ept this quest?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    HOLY SHIT! I epted the two quests then turned to Copperpot and opened my mouth to shout a warning. How could I tell him without revealing my secrets?! Quick brain, think!


    ¡°Copperpot! I was just thinking, could a st like that disturb any local animals?¡±


    ¡°I suppose.¡± Copperpot mused. ¡°I had Speaker John check the st zone ahead of time, but if there were any freschies he wouldn¡¯t have seen them. The only thing we¡¯d need to worry about around here are ¨C¡°


    ¡°STONEANT!¡± A shrill feminine cry came from slightly down the tunnel. We yanked our necks around just in time to see some dust coated antennae quaveringly peek out from behind some rubble.

 Chapter 30: Stoneants (1)

    <h4>Chapter 30: Stoneants (1)</h4>


    A stoneant looked very simr to a regr ant, if a regr ant was the size of a Gods-bedamned Rottweiler. It had a hard grey exoskeleton with significantly more spikes than your average ant deserved. A serrated set of pincers, and a pair of fuchsiapound eyespleted the set. It otherwise looked and behaved like a regr ant,plete with an obsessive desire to defend its nest.


    A nest we had just blown a hole into.


    ¡°Hold tha line!¡± A dwarf in te mail shouted. He swung an axe and sheared the antenna off of a stoneant specimen with a head nearly as big as its body. It was double the size of the other stoneants, and I clinically wondered if it was a soldier ant. The four guards were standing shoulder to shoulder with their shields up, swinging their axes with abandon. Every once in a while, one of them would shout out a Milestone. I don¡¯t think shouting is necessary to activate Milestones, but it feels <i>really</i> good.


    ¡°[Advanced sh]!¡±


    ¡°[Wide Cleave]!¡±


    ¡°[ming Axe]!¡±


    ¡°[Meteor Hammer]!¡±


    Thatst one made a fairlyrge explosion as a burning hammer spun into the mass of insects and blew up. Wind rushed down the tunnel back towards us and we were momentarily blinded as the dust picked up. The hole in the chittering horde had already filled with more ants by the time I finished clearing out the dust from my eyes.


    ¡°This could be bad.¡± Copperpot observed.


    ¡°Are ye mad?!¡± Grim eximed. ¡°There¡¯s too many of ¡®em! We must ¡®ave sted into a nest!¡± He turned to run back up the tunnel and then stopped. ¡°We¡¯ll never outrun em! We need ta stick together!¡±


    ¡°Yes, the guards should be fine. I can protect myself, but I am worried about my students, and ah¡­¡± Copperpot looked at Balin and I, ¡°I do hope you don¡¯t die.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t mind us. I think we¡¯re both in shock. Balin?¡± I went to poke him in the side. Except¡­ he wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°Ya buggers!¡± Balin smashed a pick he¡¯d gotten from who-knows-where onto the head of a stoneant. It had scrabbled through a guard¡¯s legs, and he¡¯d barely stopped it from chomping on a cowering dwarf in coveralls. ¡°You tryin¡¯ to keep me from mah Annie!?¡±


    ¡°Balin¡¯s fine, I guess?¡± He smashed a soldier ant into the wall and stood back-to-back with the ted guards. I knew Balin was good in a fight, but holy scrap! I pointed up at the roof of the tunnel, ¡°He¡¯s fine, but we¡¯re not!¡±


    A stream of ants was now advancing along the ceiling. The first wave dropped ineffectually onto the line of guards and were promptly torn apart. The second wavended behind them and charged at the unprotected grad students. Lillyweather cried ¡°[Safety Shield]!¡± and a dome of translucent light surrounded them. The ants smashed their pincers futiley against the shield, which began to quiver.


    ¡°Not good, that won¡¯tst longer than a few seconds.¡± Copperpot pulled out a small vial and tossed it at the ants. It exploded over the backs of a half dozen of them, and they began to keen as their carapaces melted.


    ¡°By the unholy yams of Yearn! What was that stuff?¡± I cried as the ants¡¯ bodies smoked and fell apart. Balin stepped forward and finished thest of them. Lillyweather¡¯s shield winked out a momentter and the students scrambled towards us.


    ¡°Acid taken from a pitchervore. Guard Captain Morris, this isn¡¯t working!¡± Copperpot shouted at the line of guards.


    A dwarf with an especially impressive set of pauldrons turned his head. ¡°We need a more defensible position! Engineering Professor Copperpot, get everyone back and into a dive tunnel!¡±


    ¡°Damn! Pete, Administrator Grim, you two know this mine, where can we make a stand?¡±


    ¡°I was just minin¡¯ this section,¡± I held up a hand. ¡°There¡¯s a dive two tunnels up, about a hundred meters back. It has a narrow opening, but we pulled a lot of ore out of it, so it should fit everyone.¡±


    ¡°Good, we¡¯ll head for that. Grim, is help on the way?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already called fer reinforcements with my emergencymstone.¡±


    ¡°How long?¡±


    ¡°The entire camp isin down the tunnel. Maybe 10 minutes?¡± Grim rasped, his voice tight with fear.


    I looked numbly at my ¡®Survive¡¯ quest. Twelve minutes remained, so that was about right. It was at that moment that an especiallyrge soldier ant crashed over the guards andunched itself at us. Copperpot shouted ¡°[Safety Shield]!¡± and he, Grim, and several students were enveloped in grey light. That didn¡¯t help Lillyweather, who was holding up the rear. The antnded beside her and turned a pair of wicked mandibles in her direction. It lunged, and Lillyweather screamed.


    My body moved unconsciously. Every fibre in my being was yelling at me to run away, but as Lillyweather cried out, all I could hear was Sammy crying for her daddy. I reached out and pulled Lillyweather into my arms as the mandibles closed around us.


    ¡°[Flesh to Stone]!¡±


    ---


    Balin gasped, his arms aching. His pick had been torn from his hands by a worker stoneant, and a lucky grab for a guard¡¯s spare axe had been the only thing that saved him from a vicious strike by a soldier stoneant twice his size. His return riposte had cleanly sliced the offending pincers in half and ichor now dripped from his clothes.


    ¡°Yer doin great greenhorn!¡± One of the guards shouted as he activated a Milestone that tore a line through the mass of stoneants.


    ¡°Thankee!¡± Balin heaved and his axe cut through another couple of workers in a single blow. ¡°I¡¯ve got lots of practice swingin¡¯ an axe!¡±


    ¡°Haha! He¡¯s a natural!¡± Another guardughed heartily as an enormous soldier stoneant crashed into him. ¡°[Shield Wall]!¡± He shouted, and the ant was repelled with a ng of metal.


    Balin nced around at what he assumed were official Titled [Guards]. The majority of the stoneants were being rebuffed by the oddly cheerful wall of steel. Thank Lunara the City Administration had sent them to ensure nothing went wrong. It looked like they might be able to hold the ants here long enough for everyone else to escape up the tunnel ¨C


    An ant dropped onto his back from above, and Balin ripped it off with an ¡°Argghh!¡± He was fast, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough to keep the ant from biting into his shoulder. The chain sewn into the suit kept his arm from being torn off, but he still received a nasty gash.


    ¡°Gods damn this damn suit!¡± Balin wanted to rip the fool thing off, but it was the only thing he had that resembled some form of armour. ¡°I never shoulda let Pete talk me into wearin¡¯ it!¡± Wait¡­ where had that stoneante from? Balin looked up.


    A solid stream of stoneants was climbing along the ceiling. The guards hadn''t noticed because their te helmets kept them from looking up. Any ants thatnded on them simply bounced off their armor, but the real problem was¡­


    ¡°[Safety Shield]!¡± Lilyweather¡¯s cry caused Balin to whip around. The students were being assaulted by nearly a dozen stoneants. He rushed to their aid as a bottle crashed into the heaving mass of insects and they began to smoke and melt. With a guttural cry, Balin waded in and cleared out the remaining ants. He stood there and struggled for breath in the acrid smoke as a dozen more ants began to crawl along the walls.


    ¡°Guard Captain Morris, this isn¡¯t working!¡± Copperpot shouted.


    The dwarf standing at the head of the formation turned his head and shouted back. ¡°We need a more defensible position! Engineering Professor Copperpot, get everyone back and into a dive tunnel!¡±


    Balin braced to receive the new wave of workers as they dropped from the ceiling. He swung his axe in arc after arc just as he¡¯d learned as a carpentry apprentice. He imagined them as trees, felled in a single swing.


    A pincer came at his face and Balin blocked it with a forearm. It bit deep, but the bracer built into the suit kept it from taking his arm. He killed the offending insect for the insult.


    Suddenly, an enormous soldier ant barreled over the guards and past Balin. He felt it brush by him, and the world fell into slow motion.


    A translucent shield popped into existence around Copperpot.


    Lillyweather screamed as she was bumped backwards and fell towards the gigantic stoneant.


    Pete reached out and grabbed the gnomess in his arms.


    The two of them were engulfed by the enormous pincers.


    ¡°NOOOOOOOOO!!!!¡± Balin cried. He wasn¡¯t going to lose his family to monsters <i>again</i>! HE¡¯D SWORN HE¡¯D NEVER LOSE ANYONE EVER AGAIN!


    A set of pincers grabbed Balin¡¯s ankle from behind and he kicked viciously, tearing free. Another jaw mped onto his arm, and he simply whipped the stoneant up and used it to bludgeon another out of the air as itunched at him. Balin swung his axe at the enormous soldier stoneant¡¯s back and it bounced off the heavily armoured exoskeleton.


    He wasn¡¯t strong enough. He hadn¡¯t been strong enough to save his sister. He hadn¡¯t been strong enough to save Pete. He hadn¡¯t been strong enough to save his mum.


    Balin wept tears of rage at the unfairness of it, at the world, and at the Gods.


    *bing*


    <strong><i>Your deep love and righteous rage have caught the attention of Yearn. </i></strong>


    <i>She wishes to grant you her Blessing. If you ept, you can receive a Title.</i>


    <i>Do you ept</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    YES.


    Balin barely registered his decisions as time continued to pass, moment by excruciating moment.


    <strong><i>You have epted the Blessing of Yearn! </i></strong><i>You have gained </i>[Stealth] and [Sense Emotions]


    <i>Your charisma has increased by 1</i>


    <i>Your wisdom has increased by 1.</i>


    <strong><i>Your Blessings from Tiara and Yearn can be merged into a Title!</i></strong>


    <i>Do you wish to gain a Title?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    YES.


    <strong><i>Congrattions!</i></strong>


    <i>Please choose two Blessings tobine into a Title!</i>


    <strong><i>Yearn of Nether and Tiara of Matter</i></strong>


    <i>[Stealth] and [Strength of All: Self] willbine into the Title [Destroyer]</i>


    <i>A [Destroyer] can crush steel in their palm and destroy stone with a thought.</i>


    <i>A [Destroyer] fears nothing and wears terror as a cloak</i>


    <i>Do you wish to be a [Destroyer]?</i>


    <i>Yes/[No]</i>


    <i>NO.</i>


    <strong><i>Yearn of Nether and Tiara of Possessions</i></strong>


    <i>[Stealth] and [Strength of All: Held] willbine into the Title [Swindler]</i>


    <i>A [Swindler] can convince anyone to give up all they have in return for nothing.</i>


    <i>A [Swindler] maniptes the spirit just as easily as the truth.</i>


    <i>Do you wish to be a [Swindler]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>NO.</i>


    <strong><i>Yearn of Rtionships and Tiara of Possessions</i></strong>


    <i>[Strength of All: Held] and [Sense Emotions] willbine into the Title [Butler]</i>


    <i>A [Butler] cares for the spirit, spark, and home of the one they choose to serve.</i>


    <i>A [Butler] can cook, clear, and clean at great speed without a single broken te.</i>


    <i>Do you wish to be a [Butler]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>NO.</i>


    <strong><i>Yearn of Rtionships and Tiara of Matter</i></strong>


    <i>[Strength of All: Self] and [Sense Emotions] willbine into the Title [Knight]</i>


    <i>A [Knight] is a shining hero to the weak and a fearsome enemy to the strong.</i>


    <i>A [Knight] can turn the tide of battle and bring hope where all is lost.</i>


    <i>Do you wish to be a [Knight]?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>YES.</i>


    <strong><i>Congrattions! You have chosen to gain the [Knight] Title!</i></strong>


    <i>[Strength of All: Self] has transformed into [Heroic Moment]</i>


    <i>[Sense Emotions] has transformed into [Challenge]</i>


    <strong><i>[Heroic Moment]</i></strong>


    <i>A true [Knight] can wield incredible strength at just the right moment. This Blessingsts for five minutes and can be used twice a day.</i>


    <strong><i>[Challenge]</i></strong>


    <i>You can twist the emotions of another and demand they face you in a battle of arms or wits. This Blessing can be used twice an hour.</i>


    <strong><i>Gaining a Title has granted you the ability to choose a Milestone!</i></strong>


    <i>Please ept one of the following:</i>


    <strong><i>[Stop Bleeding]</i></strong>


    <i>You can staunch your wounds and prevent them from bleeding further. You can use this ability once per hour.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>NO.</i>


    <strong><i>[Resist Acid]</i></strong>


    <i>Your body bes resistant to the caustic effects of most acids. This ability is always avable.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>NO.</i>


    <strong><i>[Basic Cleave]</i></strong>


    <i>You can cut through many enemies in a single blow. You can use this ability once per minute.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>NO.</i>


    <strong><i>[Shining Armour]</i></strong>


    <i>Your body is encased in a set of shining steel armour. This ability can be used once per day. The armor disappears if it is removed.</i>


    <i>Do You ept This Milestone?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>YES.</i>


    The world snapped back into focus. Balin roared, ¡°[Heroic Moment],[Shining Armour],[Challenge]! Turn and face me ya bastard!¡±


    The soldier stoneant opened its vering maw and a pair of bodies ttered to the ground with a *crack*. It wheeled on Balin, opening a pair of jaws to a span thrice his height. Balin¡¯s axe swung upwards in a blur and the ant was nearly flipped backwards as an enormous crack formed on its face. It reared back downwards, screeching, but each wicked pincer was caught in a shining gauntlet.


    ¡°I¡¯ll never let you take ¡®em from me again!¡± With a ferocious burst of strength Balin wrenched sideways and the soldier stoneant¡¯s head was torn from its body in a spray of ichor.

 Chapter 31: Stoneants (2)

    <h4>Chapter 31: Stoneants (2)</h4>


    I shook my head, which was still ringing after the giant stoneant had bounced me off the floor. I didn¡¯t think I was dead? My body was no longer made of stone and I could still feel Lillyweather wrapped in my arms. The afterlife had better not just be a string of Pete ending up in the body of different Petes throughout the multiverse¡­


    The soldier stoneant had thrown us aside after someone, Balin I think, yelled at it. Balin! I sat bolt upright. Lillyweather slumped over, but I caught her before she hit the floor. Something wet sttered against my pants. A quick nce revealed her left leg waspletely mangled.


    I hadn¡¯t been able to cover herpletely, but at least she was still breathing.


    ¡°Copperpot, Grim! I need you!¡± I screamed, then looked wildly for Balin. He¡¯d distracted that monster; a momentter and I would have died! What had happened to him?


    ¡°Fer Crack and Annie!¡± came his answer, and I goggled as a dwarf d in shining golden te armor smashed an axe into another giant soldier ant at the front lines. The ant was carved nearly in half, and the golden dwarf continued to take on the biggest stoneants in turn. <i>Balin?</i> The guards had adjusted their formation to support him, and the stoneants were being driven back.


    ¡°Pete!¡± A hand was shaking my shoulder. ¡°We need ta move to that tunnel! Guard Captain, we¡¯re retreating!¡± Grim lifted Lillyweather onto his shoulder while Copperpot examined her leg. ¡°NOW!¡±


    ¡°Aye Sir. Everyone, orderly retreat!¡±


    Copperpot grabbed my arm and pulled as the party began to fall back up the mine tunnel. The timer on my<strong></strong>quest still read over nine minutes until help arrived. I couldn¡¯t fully parse what was happening. It¡¯s one thing to watch distant specks st apart stick figure monsters at the dungeon, but it was another to have a swarm of giant fantasy ants trying to <i>eat you.</i> I was just Pete from Canada! I wasn¡¯t ready for this! How the hell did fantasy transmigration protagonists just¡­ jump right into things? Is that why they¡¯re always teenagers? I was way too set in my ways to suddenly be an action hero, even if my stats <i>were</i> way higher than earth Pete¡¯s!


    As we ran, I grabbed a discarded minepick and held it in one shaking hand. Having a weapon helped calm my monkey nerves, and my breathing evened out. The others quickly outpaced the three of us as Grim was still carrying the gently bleeding Lillyweather, and Copperpot and I weren¡¯t going to leave him behind.


    After about a hundred meters, the guards called out to us. ¡°Ants iin!¡±


    I nced back to see about four more worker stoneants heading in our direction. Two headed towards Grim, and two jumped at Copperpot, who was the smaller target. Dumb choice.


    ¡°Hmph, [Arc-Welder].¡± A scintiting torch of energy erupted from one of his fingers and sheared through the two ants. Their corpses hissed and spit as the ichor in their bodies evaporated from the intense heat. While that was fascinating to watch, I still had two insectile problems to deal with as I stepped in front of Grim. I pulled my pick back as the first oneunched at me, and I batted it out of the air like a baseball. It flew across the tunnel and smashed into a wall.


    Then the second stoneant was on me, and I barely held it back with the haft of my pickaxe. I fell onto my butt as it snapped its pincers at my face and its spiked legs scrabbled, tearing at my suit. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the first stoneant groggily pick itself up and stumble back towards me.


    ¡°Yer just a bug, so.. get¡­ squished!¡± With a grunt of effort, I shoved the ant off me and onto its concussed kin. The two of them fell over in a tangle of limbs and took a moment to get back up. A moment was all I needed.


    ¡°[Power Pick] Muthafuckas!¡± I cried. My pick gained a faint glow and I brought it down on the pair of them. They practically exploded and I was showered in goo.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you cast some spells or somethin¡¯?¡± I asked Copperpot, as we turned and continued running.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t know how.¡± Copperpot exined between gasping breaths. ¡°I have a limited form of [Manasight] that allows me to work mana into my engineering projects. I¡¯m a bit too old to be learning everything required for shaping mana into spells.¡±


    ¡°What use is [Manasight] if you can¡¯t cast magic!¡±


    ¡°Since when is anything good in life that easy? Most mages receive Archis¡¯s Blessing because they put in the years of study necessary to use Mana, not the other way around. Now shut up and run!¡±


    We passed the first tunnel, and we could see the grad students up ahead turn into the dive tunnel we had selected. We caught up to Grim and nked him until we also reached the tunnel and jumped in.


    ¡°Everyone here?¡± Copperpot asked as he looked around.


    As far as I could see, all the grad students as well as the support crew were sitting in the carved-out cavern and Grim wasying an unconscious Lillyweather against the back wall. The cave was about five meters by five meters, and only had the one small entrance tunnel that was about four meters long. A dwarf could barely fit into it, which meant the ants could only really attack in pairs.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s everyone.¡± I walked through the entrance and nced back down the tunnel. ¡°Ugh, another bunch of worker stoneants are headed our way.¡± In the distance I could barely make out a gleaming form smash into the wave of ants in order to buy time for the guards to retreat. Damn Balin, what happened to you?!


    The oing ants approached the entrance to the tunnel and Copperpot leaned out. ¡°We can¡¯t have their bodies blocking the entrance until the guards get here. I¡¯m going to incapacitate them. Can you kill them, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re out of time, I¡¯ll take that as a yes.¡± Copperpot held out his hand, ¡°[Lubricate]!¡±


    Instantly, the ants began to slip and slide, their feet unable to find purchase. They wildly iled their limbs and two of them were even impaled by their fellows.


    ¡°Fer Crack!¡± I yelled, psyching myself up. I ran forward to the first of the ants, which was on its own and struggling to stand. I plunged my pickaxe into its head, it twitched several times and fell over dead. I wrenched the pickaxe free then killed another and another.


    As I turned to the tangled pile of struggling stoneants I felt an intense burning sensation in my leg. I looked down and realized with horror that one of the stoneants I had thought was dead had mped some pincers onto my thigh. Then it began to bite down, and I screamed in agony. My vision got dark with pain and shock as my leg copsed out from under me. I brought my pickaxe down onto the monster¡¯s head over and over again.


    ¡°You Netherspawned thing! Get off me!¡± The ant finally loosened its grip and died, but my injured leg was pinned beneath it. Beside me, a few ants had crawled clear of the tangle and were skating over to get a bite in edgewise. Blood was pooling around my leg and sweat poured down my face.


    *Bing*


    <i>You have gained the [Bleeding] condition!</i>


    I was going to die.


    Then the ants were dead, and a sprinting guard grabbed me as they all ran by.


    ¡°Good job boyo!¡±


    ¡°Yer buddy is one heck of a fighter!¡±


    ¡°Ach, his leg is all cut up, someone tell tha boss!¡±


    ¡°Make sure tha [Knight] can get free. No dwarf left behind!¡±


    All I could do was whimper in pain and relief. Then I passed out, again.


    ---


    ¡°Pete, how are you doing?¡±


    I blearily opened my eyes. ¡°Copperpot?¡±


    The sound ofbat came from right nearby, so I couldn¡¯t have been out long.


    ¡°I applied pressure to your leg until [Regeneration] knit the flesh shut. You probably would have died of blood-loss without it. Praise Barck.¡±


    Argh. Please tell me I didn¡¯t owe my life to Barck now. I¡¯d prefer to have died to the stoneants.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°The guards are taking turns fighting at the entrance and your friend Balin has finallye down from his [Heroic Moment]. Lucky timing on that! He checked on you and then copsed over there.¡± Copperpot pointed to a golden figure sprawled on the floor a little way over to the side.


    I checked my quests.


    <strong><i>Survive</i></strong>


    <i>You have disturbed a monstrous brood! Can you survive long enough for help to arrive?</i>


    <i>This is a timed quest. Time remaining: 3 minutes.</i>


    <strong><i>y</i></strong>


    <i>You are encountering monsters for the first time! Show off your otherworldly prowess and y them!</i>


    <i>in: 5/10 Monsters</i>


    Only three minutes left. We could do this!


    ¡°How¡¯s Lillyweather?¡±


    ¡°Not good. We applied a tourniquet to her leg, but she¡¯s still unconscious, and she doesn¡¯t have [Regeneration]; her only Blessing is from Lunara.¡±


    I felt a cold pit in my stomach. ¡°Is she going to die?¡±


    Dark silence was my only answer.


    ¡°Gods.¡±


    A few more minutes passed. I checked my quest every few seconds, willing time to go just a little bit faster. The guards continued to ughter ants at the entrance to the dive. The constant sound of crunching carapace matched the rhythmic beating of my heart.


    <i>Time remaining: 2 minutes.</i>


    <i>Time remaining: 1 minute.</i>


    ¡°Big one iin¡¯! I think it¡¯s a brood guard!¡± The soldier at the front called. ¡°Tiara¡¯s teats, it¡¯s huge! Everyone back from the wall!¡±


    The guards ran back down the tunnel and formed a shield wall at the entry to the cavern. A swarm of ants followed and they were beaten back by axes, boots, and expletives. Their bodies soon formed a pile of the dead that blocked the entryway. There was a moment of blessed peace as the corpses stopped any further attacks.


    ¡°We might have a reprieve¡­¡± I whispered into the deathly silence.


    Copperpot groaned. ¡°Never say things like that! They¡¯re called <i>stone</i>ants for a reason!¡±


    A crack formed above the tunnel, then another as shards of stone began to fall from the ceiling.


    The guards stepped into formation and the captain raised his hand. ¡°Here ites!¡±


    An enormous pincer ripped through the ceiling of the cavern, and I had a moment to contemte my existence as I stared up at an elephant sized ant with dripping mandibles. It must have taken up every square inch of the main tunnel to get up here. It roared and purple fluid sprayed over the party.


    ¡°[Aegis]!¡± The guard captain cried out, and a shield simr to Copperpot¡¯s sprang up, though it was much wider and only faced one direction. The fluid sprayed against the shield and fell to the floor where it hissed and spat on the stone. ¡°Watch out for its venom! Concentrated fire! Ready¡­. and THROW!¡±


    The enormous brood guard opened its mouth to st us again. At the exact moment that it prepared to fire, it was struck in the face by four throwing hammers. It reared back and screeched in pain. In that instant, a multitude of workers crawled into the hole it had made and attacked.


    The next few moments were chaos as ants began assaulting everyone. I started swinging my pick, though I could barely summon any strength. I killed one ant with a lucky hit as Balin got shakily to his feet and picked up his axe. He and I stood back-to-back and swung with adrenaline fueled fury as we killed ant after ant.


    ¡°[Power Pick]!¡±


    ¡°[Challenge]!¡±


    The rafter crew grabbed their tools and jumped into the fray. The guards all pulled out another set of hammers and got ready to throw. The brood guard loomed back through the hole in the ceiling and opened its mouth to attack.


    There was an odd whistling sound, like a car whipping past, then a roar as bright light and fire filled the entire main tunnel. The brood guard screamed and spasmed as its body was cooked alive.


    <i>Time remaining: 0 seconds.</i>


    <strong>Quest Complete:</strong> Survive. You¡¯re alive!

 Chapter 32: Burn it with Fire

    <h4>Chapter 32: Burn it with Fire</h4>


    It turns out that Diamond is a fairly powerful mage.


    I say that because I had a front row seat watching her wipe out the entirety of the swarm by herself. The guards kind of helped, mostly by acting as meat shields while she rained down various forms of fiery destruction. Balin had stayed behind to rest and recuperate, but my regeneration had me back at full health. Honestly, it was pretty amazing, and I was man enough to admit that Barck had given me something nice there.


    My first experience with real magic was leaving me both amazed and disappointed. It was certainly awe inspiring, but there was a lot less ¡®Oh fires of Gehenna strike down my enemies¡¯ and a lot more drawing. In order to cast magic, Diamond would trace patterns in the air with a crystal-tipped wand, and a glowing trail would be left behind. Those lines of power would coalesce into a series of symbols that transformed into magical fire.


    ¡°Copperpot, this is going to get us killed!¡± I hissed as a trio of fireballs rocketed through the air barely two dozen paces away.


    Why were we immediately walking back down the tunnel while the attack was still ongoing? Because Copperpot was a MASSIVE NERD.


    ¡°One moment.¡± Copperpot leaned over and examined something on the wall. ¡°We still need to check whether or not the boomdust experiment was a sess, and we can¡¯t let something like an attack by an entire nest of monsters distract from that. ¡± He took a few notes while I twiddled my thumbs and worried about Lillyweather; Doc Opal had hissed and shouted and transported her back to camp. She was still alive, and they¡¯d called for the [Healer], but it was going to be a near thing.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t we do thister? I was almost eaten!¡±


    ¡°With all the guards here as well as Statustician Diamond, we don¡¯t need to be concerned. Last time we were ambushed and had arge number of nonbatants. We now have overwhelming firepower and no civilians.¡±


    ¡°Except us, and the volunteers.¡± I looked around at the two dozen miners that were killing any worker ants that got past the guards and the fire.


    ¡°If you volunteer to fight, you¡¯re not a civilian anymore, you¡¯re militia. The City of Minnova Ordinances are clear on that."


    ¡°I¡¯m not a volunteer, I¡¯m <i>management!</i>¡±


    Copperpot snickered. "All the more reason to ensure this entire thing went off without a hitch. You had a question that you wanted to ask earlier?¡± Copperpot closed his notebook and put it in his pocket before turning to face me.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re doin¡¯ this now? Fine, how does magic work? It¡¯s¡­ not quite what I expected.¡± I waved my hand toward the intricate light show.


    ¡°Well, exining things to an amnesiac should make for a fun thought experiment, so why not? Do you know what the elements are?¡±


    ¡°Matter, Aether, Nether, and Magic.¡±


    ¡°Correct! I read Doctor Opal has been training you, and she¡¯s done a fairly good job as far as I can see. Matter is the physical, Aether is the immaterial, Nether is the space in between, and Mana makes it what it is.¡±


    ¡°I get most of that, I just didn¡¯t really understand Doctor Opal¡¯s exnation of magic.¡± I pursed my lips. ¡°How does ¡®mana make it what it is¡¯? Also, I thought the element was magic?¡±


    ¡°Ah, technically <i>mana</i> is the actual element, and <i>magic </i>is how it can be manipted. They are often conted. Now, let¡¯s take this rock as an example.¡± Copperpot held up a piece of grey stone. ¡°It¡¯s almost all matter with no aether in it. Nether keeps it from breaking up into a bunch of smaller rocks.¡±


    I tranted the lesson into basic Earth chemistry as Copperpot talked. As far as I could tell, matter and aether were different forms of <i>atoms</i> andher was <i>forces</i>, or not, because that was all earth knowledge.


    ¡°The entire stone is also filled with a small amount of mana.¡± Copperpot continued, breaking my train of thought. ¡°You can¡¯t see it without [Manasight], but the mana is what makes it <i>rock</i> rather than any other kind of matter.¡±


    I thought about that for a moment. ¡°So mana is the vour? It¡¯s what makes chicken taste different from beef?¡±


    Copperpot chuckled ¡°Yes! I¡¯ve never heard it put that way before, but that¡¯s pretty close.¡±


    ¡°How does magic work then?¡±


    ¡°Do you see the diagrams Diamond is drawing in the air there?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± We watched as shepleted a ratherrge set of glowing circles that resolved into a curving me that arched back and forth down the tunnel. It practically evaporated everything inside it, including another ant brood guard.


    ¡°Those are concentrated mana, which even someone without [Manasight] can see.¡±


    ¡°That''s neat!¡±


    ¡°She''s drawing it out of her own body using the wand as a wooden spoon and using it to cook the surrounding aether into a new spicier vour.¡± Copperpot smiled, ¡°This is a useful analogy!¡±


    ¡°Drawing it outta her body? That sounds dangerous.¡±


    ¡°It absolutely is! People that use magic without understanding it can draw out too much mana, and it isn¡¯t pretty.¡±


    I shivered, imagining a dwarven body losing everything that makes it ¡®dwarf¡¯. ¡°What about the symbols?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot of math and specific arcane patterns that tell the mana what vour it needs to be. As a fire mage, she then forces that mana into the surrounding aether to transform it from savoury air voured aether to hot fire voured aether.¡±


    ¡°I thought she was a [Statustician]?¡±


    ¡°What? No, well, it¡¯splicated.¡± Copperpot pointed to a portion of the tunnel and shouted. ¡°Rafter crew, that needs to be shored up!¡± I waited patiently as the rafter crew went up and repaired some damage the st had done to the existing rafters.


    ¡°The st damaged the tunnel further back than I was expecting. That¡¯s good, as it means the boomdust has more power than we first thought.¡± Copperpot mused under his breath before turning back to me. ¡°Where was I? Ah yes, a fire mage. [Statustician] is Diamond¡¯s Title, but her school of study is fire magic.¡±


    ¡°So, you don¡¯t need a specific Title to use fire magic?¡±


    ¡°A Titled [Aethershaper] could achieve simr effects, but it wouldn¡¯t be magic. They have Blessings that allow them to change the mana of the aether directly, without needing to shape their own mana first. It¡¯s more elegant, but limited. A mage usually refers to anyone with [Manasight] that decides to learn the magic form necessary to change their mana and force it into their surroundings.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me some more about those magic forms?¡± Those were what I needed to learn to do magic on my own!


    ¡°Yes. Learning all the necessary arcane forme for any kind of magic is a long and difficult process, so most mages focus on a single school to study. Diamond is a fire mage because fire is a powerful school. Also,¡± Copperpot leaned in to faux-whisper conspiratorially. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you noticed, but she likes red.¡±


    ¡°I HEARD THAT, you old curmudgeon!¡± Diamond called from ahead of us. Copperpot chuckled.


    ¡°There are many schools of magic, too many to list, but they all work the same. There¡¯s a lot of math involved as well, because it isn¡¯t just enough to memorize the symbology, you need to take into ount the ambient mana as well.¡±


    ¡°That... soundsplicated.¡±


    ¡°It is. It¡¯s why most mages are in school for nearly fifty years or more. It¡¯s also why dragons and elves usually have more powerful mages, as they simply live longer.¡± He shrugged.


    We walked in silence for a while as I mused on this new information. I wasn¡¯t that hot at math, and the thought of putting in fifty more years of schooling right as I entered a new world was horrifying at best. Magic would have been worth it, but would I have been able to earn Archis¡¯s blessing in the first ce?


    Honestly, at this point I was cooling off a bit about Barck¡¯s blessing. I would have literally died twice today without it, and it really did fit me pretty well. I still have a ton of questions for a [Priest]ter. Like: was the forced blessing the Gods¡¯ way of saying, ¡®Nobody else wants you¡¯? In the meantime, regardless of the reason, Barck remains a bastard in my books for stealing my choice.


    We eventually reached ground zero, and it was¡­


    ¡°Wow¡­¡± whispered Diamond.


    ¡°By tha Grace of Lunara¡­¡±


    ¡°Tiara¡¯s Teats!¡±


    ¡°Muh leg!¡± We all turned to one dwarf that was beating in the charred head of an ant that had somehow survived our initial onught. Some of the miners hustled him back up to our base camp in the dive tunnel.


    ¡°This certainly exceeded my expectations.¡± Copperpot mused.


    ¡°Who cares? It worked!¡± I hollered. I grabbed Copperpot¡¯s hands and danced around,ughing. ¡°It worked! Haha! We¡¯re free! Someone go tell Balin! It¡¯s amazin! Hell yeah boomdust!¡±


    An enormous hole had been sted out of the mountain, and carved a cylindrical cavern roughly five meters in diameter and twenty meters deep. The area was filled with rubble and dust and the charred bodies of ants. The guards were currently blocking arge crack in the wall that was filled with more stoneants. It was mostly worker ants attacking at this point; the soldiers and brood guards had been in the first few waves.


    Copperpot extracted himself from my grasp and smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited Pete, we still need toplete our report. Celebrations are for the tea shop afterwards.¡±


    ¡°You mean the bar,e on Copperpot, give me a cheer!¡± I could barely contain my excitement as I took it all in.


    He harrumphed and then pumped his fist. ¡°What did you say? Hell yeah? An interesting turn of phrase. Hell yeah boomdust!¡± I joined in and our voices echoed off the rocks until Diamond turned an angry re in our direction.


    Copper coughed and pulled out his notebook. ¡°Let¡¯s stop and check the integrity of the walls, I don¡¯t want anyone getting crushed. I wish I had my students for this, but I don¡¯t want to risk any more of them.¡± His sses telescoped outwards and he began writing.


    Some time passed while the rafter crew did some raftering and Copperpot did some engineering, the guards did some guarding, and Diamond did some firing. I ended up helping Copperpot take some measurements after I got bored. Apparently, tape measures are universal.


    Eventually everything was done, and Copperpot waved to the Guard Captain and Diamond. ¡°Everything is good to go! You can head in now!¡±


    ¡°Aye sir! I¡¯ll leave two guards and the militia here with you, the rest of us will go deal with the queen.¡±


    ¡°Make sure Diamond doesn¡¯t destroy anything important or load-bearing! It¡¯s not too often that we get toe in the back side of a nest like this! Leave something for the research teams!¡±


    ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing, Copperpot.¡± Diamond huffed, as she followed the guards into the crevice.


    The rest of us watched them go. The miners, mostly armed with pickaxes and thin leather armour, moved in to block the opening. A few ants trickled out, but it was clear from the soundsing from the hole that the hive was busy dealing with something else.


    ¡°What is the queen going to be like?¡± I asked, as I chewed my lip.


    ¡°The queen isn¡¯t actually that big a deal.¡± Copperpot said, as he sat down on a rock to rest. ¡°She¡¯s mostly an immobile baby factory. The bigger problem will be that she¡¯ll have several brood guards with her.¡±


    ¡°Will they be able to handle it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Diamond is exactly the dwarf needed to handle something like this. A narrow space with a limited number of enemies that cannot receive further reinforcements, and no need to worry about causing fires? She¡¯ll take them apart.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said not to damage anything load-bearing?¡± I sat down beside Copperpot, only now realizing just how <i>tired </i>I was.


    ¡°That was just to tweak Diamond¡¯s beard. Nothing in there should be really mmable, the ants build with saliva and stone. We just need to wait for them.¡±


    Indeed, it was barely half an hour before the ants stopped trickling in, and then Diamond and some banged up guards emerged from the tunnel. They were carrying one guard, though they didn¡¯t seem overly worried.


    Diamond smiled at us as she approached. ¡°Alright Copperpot, we¡¯re done. We have an injured member, so we need to head up. I¡¯ll leave the clean-up of the site in your expert hands.¡± She walked away, whistling.


    Copperpot turned to watch her leave. ¡°Damn, she got us. Alright Pete, go grab a mop and start cleaning.¡±


    ¡°<i>Excuse </i>me?¡±

 Chapter 33: Loose Ends

    <h4>Chapter 33: Loose Ends</h4>


    ¡°You alright, Balin?¡±


    ¡°Aye Pete. I¡¯m d you aren¡¯t dead.¡±


    ¡°So am I.¡±


    ¡°<i>SO AM I!¡±</i> Sam nuzzled a bulging leather bag that clinked as he rubbed it.


    ¡°Rude.¡± Wreck opined.


    ¡°Gold is Gold!¡± The three of us retorted.


    ¡°I admit none of us had ¡®crazy Pete¡¯s experiment summons monsters¡¯ as part o¡¯ the bet. I still won a good chunk off ya livin¡¯.¡± Sam said as he put the leather back into his pocket.


    ¡°They don¡¯t really call me ¡®Crazy Pete¡¯ do they?¡± I asked, as my eyebrows furrowed. An impressive sight when you have eyebrows as bushy as a squirrel¡¯s tail.


    ¡°Uh.¡± Sam looked away.


    ¡°We¡¯re all d ya lived, Pete.¡± Said Wreck. She even patted me on the shoulder.


    We were standing around Balin¡¯s cot in the infirmary. The infirmary was a small alcove off to the side of Grim¡¯s office, and I recognized it as the room I¡¯d arrived at when I reincarnated here. I looked around with a small amount of nostalgia. The in grey walls with slight adornment, the musty smell of earth and dwarf, and the cheerful voice of Balin were all the same. The only thing missing was ¨C


    ¡°I want a full report! Number of wounded, and supplies used! Healer Bastion has been held up at the dungeon, so I want constant updates on Lillyweather¡¯s status! You, guard, I want you on the dwarf we discussed until I say stop, got it?¡± Grim was in fine form. He had managed to escape unscathed from the initial attack, and had taken charge of the entire operation. He was the picture of efficiency, no different from the day I¡¯d first arrived.


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± The guard saluted.


    I turned back to Balin. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you went full Super Saiyan!¡±


    ¡°Sayin¡¯ what?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡­. um. I can¡¯t believe you turned into a real life knight in shining armour!¡±


    ¡°Me neither.¡± Balin was actually <i>moping</i>. ¡°I know how you feel about yer thing now Pete. I wanted somethin'' that would make me a better carpenter fer Annie. Now I¡¯ve got a bunch of fightin¡¯ stuff that¡¯s no good fer anyone.¡±


    ¡°Och, but Baaaaalin.¡± Sam nudged Balin. ¡°Annie was expectin¡¯ some kinda convict. Now she¡¯s got a heroic knight to sweep her off ¡®er feet. Imagine what her daddy will say, eh?¡±


    Balin¡¯s face actually turned beet red. ¡°Errrrr¡­¡±


    ¡°Annie, my love!¡± Sam swept Wreck off her feet, and she squeaked. ¡°I, the shinin'' golden knight of Minnova, havee to court ya! I shall y a hundred monsters in yer name if you so desire!¡±


    Sam hit the floor with a *thwack*.


    ¡°Well Balin, what are you goin'' to do?¡± I asked. ¡°You were amazing out there, even the guards said so. Could you be an adventurer in the dungeon?¡± I couldn¡¯t imagine it myself. The thought of going toe to toe with a bunch of giant monsters again left me with a cold sweat. I was probably going to have nightmares about this for months.


    ¡°I dunno¡­¡± Balin mused. ¡°Adventurers can make a lotta gold, but it¡¯s dangerous work.¡±


    ¡°Ye¡¯ll be a hero from the tales.¡± Sam gasped from where he was curled up on the floor. ¡°Save me from this monster!¡±


    ¡°Rude.¡± Wreck kicked him for good measure. Balin and I ignored the byy.


    ¡°Am I interrupting?¡± Copperpot joined us with the guard from before.


    ¡°No.¡± Balin and I said in unison.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Sam wheezed.


    ¡°I have to head back to the university, so I need to leave now. Diamond will be staying behind until her work is done.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad. We¡¯ll miss you, Copperpot.¡± I held out my hand.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a forever goodbye.¡± Copperpot smiled jovially. ¡°I will need to stay in touch to discuss your proceeds, and I want to hear more about your ideas for tea and beer.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Gods.¡± Balin groaned. ¡°Tell me he doesn¡¯t want to add tea to beer.¡±


    ¡°You were there when we discussed this Balin.¡± I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Only in body.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to share the news myself.¡± Copperpot continued. ¡°Based on the experiment, I can unequivocally say that you¡¯ll be receiving enough to end your indentures.¡±


    ¡°Huzzah!¡± I pumped my fists.


    ¡°Congrattions!¡± Sam cried.


    ¡°Yaaay.¡± Wreck monotoned.


    ¡°Here is an invitation card, Pete.¡± Copperpot handed me a small piece of cardstock. It was simr to a modern-day business card, with a logo and Copperpot¡¯s name done in beautiful calligraphy. His logo was a gear that had mes rising off of it, and the card shimmered slightly when I flipped it over.


    ¡°Is this magical? It looks and feels different from regr paper.¡± This was the first real magical artifact I¡¯d handled here, and it was¡­ anticlimactic. An enchanted business card? Really?


    ¡°Indeed, it¡¯s been enchanted with mana that proves it¡¯s the real thing.¡± Copperpot nodded. ¡°Helps my security keep out anyone that doesn¡¯t have an appointment.¡±


    ¡°Aw, I¡¯ll need an appointment?¡±


    ¡°Heh, I¡¯ll make sure to let them know to expect a crazy dwarf.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    Copperpot looked at his watch. ¡°It¡¯s time for me to go. So long everyone, and congrattions on your imminent release. Balin, Pete.¡± He nodded at the two of us and made his way out the door.


    ¡°We did it Balin!¡±


    ¡°That we did.¡±


    We smiled at each other for a long while. It had been a painful and arduous journey, but we were finally going to be free. I was finally going to see the wider world and experience the rest of my new life. Balin and I would head to Annie¡¯s brewery, he¡¯d get a fianc¨¦ and I¡¯d get tools. I could see from Balin¡¯s eyes that he was dreaming about the future too.


    ¡°Ahem.¡± A brusque cough broke our reverie.


    ¡°Yes?¡± I turned and looked at the guard, who had remained behind after Copperpot left. He had on his full set of steel te armor, and the only thing I could make out were some glinting ck eyes and a bushy ck bearding out from under his helmet.


    ¡°Grim¡¯s orders. I¡¯m yer guard fer a while. Name¡¯s Brock¡± He shrugged apologetically.


    ¡°What? Why? Has Pete done somethin?¡± Sam was on his feet and in between me and Brock in an instant. ¡°I protest, he¡¯s been tha picture of a good andwful dwarf!¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that.¡± Brock brushed Sam aside like he was a child and looked me in the eye.


    ¡°The dwarf named Tim was ced under arrest while you were preparin'' tha boomdust. Durin'' tha chaos of the stoneant attack he managed to escape.¡±


    ¡°What!¡± Balin and I cried in unison.


    ¡°Eh?¡± Said Sam as he tumbled to the side.


    ¡°Rude.¡±


    --


    ¡°Tim actually was a [Swindler], then.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± Brock nodded. He and I were walking through the camp back towards my cabin. ¡°Statustician Diamond checked ¡®im. He had tha¡¯ [Swindler] title and a milestone called [Lost Reason].¡±


    ¡°That sounds dangerous. Does it make you lose <i>a</i> reason or lose <i>your</i> reason?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. I¡¯m not paid to understand that. I¡¯m paid ta keep you safe right now.¡±


    ¡°Are they sure he¡¯s still in the camp?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Tha manacles keep ya from goin¡¯ too far. They think he might be hidin¡¯ in tha mine, so they¡¯re searchin¡¯ there.¡± Brock said as we stepped aside to let by some miners carrying a brood guard carcass. The carcass was singed and burned, and ashes fell from it as it bounced on their shoulders.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we killed those.¡± I shuddered, remembering the moment the brood guard¡¯s monstrous head had burst into our dive tunnel and showered us with venom.


    ¡°We kill bigger stuff in tha dungeon all the time!¡± The guard pped me on the shoulder. ¡°Besides, I heard ya threw yerself into a soldier ant¡¯s mouth ta save that gnomess! Good on ya!¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± My mind grew a bit clouded at the mention of Lillyweather. She was the worst injured, and was holed up in Doc Opal¡¯s cabin. Every once in a while, we could hear screaming and weepinging from it. Healer Bastion had been called for, but there had been a massive wave of monsters from the dungeon, and he¡¯d been tied up for hours. I said a small prayer to the Gods, even Barck, hoping she¡¯d make it through.


    I took the lead and we walked in silence for a while, Brock about half a pace behind me; it was incredibly distracting. I tried to ignore him, but someone in full te armor walking right behind you is not a quiet or subtle thing. I finally broke and did a stutter-step back toe abreast with him.


    ¡°I¡­ Honestly, I kind of thought of Tim as a friend up until earlier today. It¡¯s a lot to parse that he¡¯s some kind of mind-manipting,herspawned, backstabbing, [Swindler].¡± I admitted.


    ¡°That¡¯s not umon.¡± He nodded. ¡°[Swindlers] make friends <i>first</i> then hit ya with their Blessin¡¯s and Titles. They¡¯re good at makin¡¯ people trust em.¡±


    ¡°Confidence artists.¡± I scowled at the thought. I¡¯d hoped that the straighced dwarven society would be free from such people, but I¡¯d recently learned my lesson about monoliths. It was hard, but I could see Tim doing something like this. ¡°I did feel Tim¡¯s behaviour had been a bit too heel face turn, but I really wanted to believe I¡¯d won him over.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Which?¡±


    ¡°Confidence artist, and ¡®heel face turn¡¯¡±


    ¡°A confidence artist is someone that¡¯s good at gettin'' people to trust them. They earn your confidence through kindness, trickery, or simply exploiting yer greed. After you trust them fully, <i>then </i>they take you for all you¡¯re worth.¡±


    ¡°Sounds familiar.¡± The guard nodded. ¡°They like ta go after the young or the elderly.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it can get bad. What kind of things have you seen?¡±


    ¡°Amon one is ta send a letter pretendin to be a grandkid. Askin fer a spot o¡¯ money cause¡¯ yer in trouble.¡±


    ¡°That or pretending to need someone to sell something valuable for amission?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s another one, yeah. You have some guard experience!¡±


    ¡°No, just movie¡­ moving around a lot gave me plenty of exposure to that kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°I can see that. What about tha other one? Is it a wrestlin¡¯ move? Like ya stick yer foot in his face and knock ¡®im over?¡±


    ¡°Close! A heel face turn is a viin that suddenly decides to be a good guy for no real reason. It came from wrestling, actually!¡± The best example from Earth would be the Grinch.


    ¡°Oh! Like when Murder Machine decided ta split with tha Wreckin Crew and joined up with Kid Crusader ''cause he fell in love wi¡¯ a floffle?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­. Sure?¡± While I didn¡¯t understand anything he¡¯d said, the WWE lover in me understood every word. ¡°Murder Machine with tha steel chair?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± We high fived, and then Brock remembered he was on duty and got back to looking serious. After a roundabout walk, we arrived at my cabin without any incident and I went to open the door. I stopped just as my fingers touched the knob. My room would be the stupidest ce to hide, but ¡­


    ¡°Is this where I say ¡®thank you for your hard work, Brock, you can go now¡¯?¡± I pointed at my eyes and then at the door.


    ¡°Sounds ¡®bout right,¡± Brock raised his voice as he nodded and pulled out an axe, ¡°yer safe in yer own room of course.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± I nodded and stepped to the side. ¡°I imagine Tim must be hiding somewhere in the tunnels.¡±


    ¡°Probably. Whisperer Gemma is searchin¡¯ em right now with tha rest o¡¯ tha guards. I¡¯ll be waitin¡¯ round outside. Have a good sleep.¡± Brock proimed as he lined up with the door.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you around!¡± If this was all for nothing, we were going to look like a couple of idiots. Well, like I always said, ¡®better idiot than dead¡¯.


    I never said that.


    ¡°[Charge]!¡± Brock smashed forward in a blur, his axe cleaving the door in half as he burst through the doorway. There was a scream and a smash, followed by the sounds of grunting and swearing.


    I peeked inside. My bed was turned up against the opposite wall, and pieces of the door were scattered through the room. Brock was lying on the ground, and beneath him, locked in an arm bar and tapping one hand on the floor, was Tim.


    That sonnuvabitch.

 Chapter 34: Closure

    <h4>Chapter 34: Closure</h4>


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand! He¡¯s lyin¡¯ to you all!¡±


    Guilt.


    ¡°He¡¯s been insultin¡¯ everythin¡¯ about bein¡¯ a dwarf since the ident!¡±


    More Guilt.


    ¡°He¡¯s gonna destroy generations of beer makin¡¯!¡±


    Extra Guilt.


    ¡°I just did what I had to!¡±


    I looked up at that, feeling a pang of anger rather than guilt. How dare he! He¡¯d swindled me and messed with my head, and it was what he HAD to do?!


    ¡°Be silent, Tim. We aren¡¯t here to listen to your justifications. We are here to release any ongoing abilities on Alchemist Peter, and provide him with some closure. As per Nation of Crack Law Ver. 118, Section 8, Subsection 2, you may choose to voluntarily surrender any goods and repair any damages done to the injured party in order to reduce your sentence.¡± Diamond held her hand up to forestall Tim¡¯s sputtered reply. ¡°Do not think of wasting the final opportunities provided to you by thew.¡±


    Tim nodded; his eyes downcast.


    ¡°Very well, release any of your abilities of Alchemist Peter first.¡±


    Tim held up a hand, and I could actually feel a weighte off my mind. I¡¯d needed to really focus on remembering the stolen silver, but now it was a fresh memory, raw and full of anger.


    ¡°This all seems a little¡­ lenient?¡± I put forward. Diamond, Brock, Tim, Grim, and two other guards turned to look at me. Diamond twirled her drill-beard for a moment before she answered.


    ¡°Tim¡¯s psych profile as well as his interrogation and examination of his Status indicate there is a chance for rehabilitation.¡± Diamond¡¯s tone turned a bit sharp. ¡°You and he both agreed to allow for an arbitration, and right now he is <i>wasting</i> it!¡±


    ¡°I thought¡­ I dunno. That¡¯d I¡¯d have an opportunity to throw rotten tomatoes at him or somethin.¡± I mimed a tossing motion.


    ¡°Where would you get a barbaric idea like that?¡± Diamond shook her head.


    ¡°What a waste of good food..¡± Grim muttered.


    ¡°See! He¡¯s a mad-dwarf!¡± Tim shook his cuffs intively.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡± Diamond smashed a ted hand on the table, and we all jumped as the wood cracked. ¡°Tim, <i>silence</i>! Alchemist Peter, you may ask five questions!¡± She turned to look at Tim. ¡°You will speak only when questioned, and may <i>only</i> answer the question. Any further outbursts and I¡¯ll personally see you put on the lowest level of the Capital prison!¡±


    She dropped 32 silver coins, a tankard, and a small keg of beer on the table. ¡°Here is the evidence that we collected from him, now let us perform this arbitration¡­ <i>properly</i>.¡± She practically hissed.


    ¡°Fine. Tim, have you been fakin¡¯ everything? Were we ever friends at all?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Maybe. Until you mixed lemonade into Tha Brew, when you began ¨C¡± He was cut off as Diamond harrumphed. ¡°Until you made the radler.¡±


    Diamond nodded at me, which I took to mean he was telling the truth. Diamond had approached mete in the evening to inform me of a possible ¡°Arbitrated Closure¡±. She had deemed the situation appropriate for one, and was giving me the option. If I took it, Tim¡¯s sentence for having a Banned title would change from life imprisonment, to a chance at supervised parole. The entire thing would take ce under a truth spell, which would tell Diamond if Tim lied. The idea was to provide me closure in a controlled space.


    So, we had been friends for a short while. That¡­ was nice, but it also made the resulting betrayal hurt even more.


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked in a pleading tone.


    ¡°Why what?¡±


    ¡°Why did you do all this?¡±


    ¡°Because you-!¡± Tim took a deep breath. ¡°Because I consider you a threat to our traditions and way of life.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t even mean anythin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°It does to me.¡±


    I rubbed the bridge of my nose. It was like arguing with someone on the inte. He wasn¡¯t going to change his mind in this short time. Speaking of time.


    ¡°When did you start messin with me?¡±


    ¡°Not until the third month. I¡¯d been doin¡¯ a simple swindle for a while; I wanted to slow down yer ¡®gunpowder¡¯ n. If it was anythin¡¯ like tha radler it could be nothin¡¯ good. I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to use my abilities on a fellow dwarf, but I decided to do it when I saw Speaker John drink some of yer radler.¡±


    Diamond nodded at me again. ¡°Two more questions, then Tim is allowed one.¡±


    ¡°Tim, why in Yearns name were you in my room?¡± Grim coughed and hid a grin. He''d been at Tim''s initial interrogation. Why the hell was that funny?


    ¡°I was going to use some good dwarven steel to see if you were a true dwarf.¡±


    ¡°You were going to knife me!?¡± I looked at the evidence, the only thing made of steel was the tankard.


    ¡°No prevarication.¡± Diamond warned, her voice dark.


    ¡°I was goin¡¯ ta make ya drink beer till you admitted it was good.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    Grim actually sputtered and ran out of the room. Diamond glowered at the door and nodded at a guard, who locked it. She turned to Tim. ¡°Continue please.¡±


    ¡°I figured I could bring ya back with enough of Tha Brew. You might be the Great Deceiver -¡±


    Diamond¡¯s fingers snapped and Tim¡¯s voice was cut off, though his mouth continued to move. I shook my head. ¡°No, let him finish.¡± She nodded and snapped her fingers, and he was suddenly audible again.


    ¡°- give you a chance to prove you were a true dwarf. I¡¯d lost the chance to stop yer experiments, but maybe I could convince ya to give up yer ways.¡±


    I looked at Diamond. That couldn¡¯t be true, it was nuts! She shrugged and nodded.


    I slumped back in my chair. No wonder she¡¯d set this thing up. Tim wasn¡¯t a monster; he was a misguided IDIOT. That and a howling hypocrite. My heart grew a little stony at that. He¡¯d stolen from me, and I was beginning to remember that he¡¯d stolen from the city coffers too. He was justifying things to himself, but the reality was only one of us had truly broken dwarvenw and tradition, and it wasn¡¯t me.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just talk to me?¡±


    ¡°Because you were so full of yerself that you never gave me tha time of day.¡±


    Ugh. Diamond looked at me and nodded, then shrugged. ¡°Those are your five questions Alchemist Peter. Tim, you may ask your one question.¡±


    Tim turned to look at me, his bald head wrinkled with thought. We sat in silence for a few minutes until he finally spoke.


    ¡°Are you actually Peter?¡±


    Wow. What a loaded question, and frighteningly sharp. Sweat beaded on my forehead, but I had an easy answer to that.


    ¡°Absolutely. I am, and always have been, Peter.¡±


    Tim looked at me suspiciously, and then at Diamond. She nodded and he hung his head.


    ¡°Very well, Alchemist Peter, you may make one closing statement.¡±


    It was my turn to think for a while. I looked at the three guards, who were clearly bored out of their minds, and considered the problem.


    Did I forgive Tim?


    No. It was a bit too soon.


    Was I mad at him? Kind of. He¡¯d scammed me, and used abilities on me that were so vile they made his entire existence illegal. That was kind of sad in a way. I thought back on my incredibly racist great-grandpa, who¡¯d gotten into a lot of trouble towards the end for his opinions on the First Nations and the Chinese. Tim was¡­. kind of like my grandpa. Hidebound, afraid of change, andshing out in the only way he could. In doing so, he¡¯d hurt those around him, but in his own mind it was a misguided attempt to save people.


    I sighed. I almost wished he <i>had </i>tried to knife me. That would have made this all so much easier.


    ¡°Tim, you were one of the first few friends I can remember having. If you were truly my friend, rather than forcing it on me, you¡¯d have tried to make a beer that I would actually enjoy. I didn¡¯t <i>choose</i> to dislike ¡®Tha Brew¡¯, it¡¯s just tha way I am.¡±


    Tim was downcast as the Guards removed him and took him away.


    I slumped down in my chair, exhausted. I still had so many goodbyes to do.


    ---


    ¡°You there, Doc?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Come in.¡±


    I entered her cabin and paused. Lillyweather was asleep on the bed. I flinched as my eyes ran over her injuries.


    Her left leg was missing below the knee.


    I dropped my voice to a whisper.


    ¡°Is she ok now?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Healer Bastion cametest night and we managed to save her life. She needs some rest for now, but she lost her leg.¡± Opal¡¯s voice was clinical, but I could hear the anguish behind her words. ¡°Unfortunately, a full regrowth of the limb far exceeds Healer Bastion¡¯s mana capacity.¡±


    Gods. I felt awful. It wasn¡¯t my fault, but it had been my experiment, so I felt a little responsible.


    ¡°Is there anything I can do?¡± Perhaps I could find a better Healer?


    ¡°No, Copperpot has it handled, leave it to him. As her mentor he bears the most responsibility and obligation.¡±


    We both looked at her for a while before I spoke again.


    ¡°I came to say goodbye. Balin and I leave in the morning.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Doc Opal got the weirdest look on her face as she rubbed at her chinstrap beard. It was a mixture of delight and annoyance, hope and despair at the same time. ¡°I will be¡­. sad to see you go.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you too Doc. Thanks for everything, especially the use of your supplies.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Peter. Thank you for the sweets, and for brightening Bran¡¯s kitchen.¡±


    ¡°I hope we meet again."


    ¡°We will eventually, surely. Balin said you n to move to Minnova.¡±


    ¡°Balin has a big mouth, and don¡¯t call me Shirley.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Goodbye Opal.¡±


    ---


    ¡°I¡¯m really going to miss you Sam.¡±


    Sam smiled as he leaned in and gave me a giant hug. I could feel tears wetting his beard.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be out before ya know it, eh?¡±


    ¡°Not too soon, I value my eardrums.¡±


    ¡°Good luck out there, son, yer goin¡¯ ta need it. If you get stuck, go look for a dwarf named Drum at tha Rusty Battleaxe. Just tell him Sam sent ya.¡±


    ¡°Goodbye old man.¡±


    ¡°So long, Pete.¡±


    ¡ª


    I peaked around the door.


    ¡°Goodbye Grim -¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care! Get out! Beggone, Agent of Aaron!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you with my AXE if you don¡¯t get out of my mine!¡±


    My teeth shed in the darkness of the hallway as I retreated. I¡¯d need to send something special to Grim. Maybe a couple kegs of my first beer, to share with the prison popce.


    ¡ª


    *sniff* ¡°I can¡¯t believe yer leavin!¡±


    I held up a handkerchief, nonplussed. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it meant that much to ya Bran.¡±


    *sniffle* ¡°You always had so many amazin ideas.¡± *honk*


    ¡°You¡¯re a great chef Bran, you know enough now to start making yer own recipes.¡±


    ¡°But now I got nothin to sell to make enough silver fer lemons!¡± *sob*


    ¡°YOU WERE SELLIN¡¯ MY RECIPES!?¡±


    Bran opened up a drawer and revealed the contents. My eyes widened.


    ¡ª


    Balin and I stood at the entrance to the City of Minnova Prison Mine and looked down the path towards the city. The chain gang had lined up to say goodbye, and there was a heady mix of cheering and happy well wishes to send us off. It had taken a year, but I was free.


    I turned to Balin.


    ¡°Are ya ready to go buddy?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that I am. Let¡¯s step into our future!¡±


    ¡°Okay, but watch where you¡¯re stepping, Balin.¡±


    We each took a step forward. There was a squelch and the stench of goatshit.


    ¡°See? I told you.¡±


    ¡°PETE!¡±

 Chapter 35: Interlude: Somewhere Else

    <h4>Chapter 35: Interlude: Somewhere Else</h4>


    On the side of a cliff there stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    ¡°It¡¯s uneptable!¡± A stately feminine voice bellowed. There was a crack as a fist pounded the table. The mountain trembled at the impact and for a brief moment the waterfall lifted into the sky.


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t technically broken any rules.¡± A cultured voice drawled.


    The woman wheeled upon a man reading a book beside her. Her skin was the colour of a warm summer¡¯s night, and each of her ebony hairs was perfectly in its ce. Otherworldly jewels adorned her pointed ears, and a gown of gossamer moonlight fell from her shoulders and flowed to the ground. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you the most upset about this? He would have chosen you, Archis!¡±


    The human man pushed some sses up his nose. His skin, hair, and eyes were all white, with golden highlights in the hair at his temples. He wore a superbly tailored, but simple schr¡¯s robe covered in pockets. Each pocket contained a book or writing instrument. ¡°You assume I even wanted him, Lunara. Besides, I already knew this was going to happen; I made a deal.¡±


    ¡°Why would you agree to that? What deal could possibly be worth the soul of a Chosen Catalyst?¡±


    ¡°Because we did the math.¡± A gruff voice interjected. ¡°He¡¯d have been dead long before he got that Blessin¡¯.¡± A dwarf¡¯s shaggy head peaked over the lip of the table. A pair of ck eyes, gleaming with the stoked mes of a forge, glowered at the elven woman. A thick and curly ck beard bristled with barely contained emotion.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Another voice cut in. A man with bronze skin speckled by faint blue scales stood up at the head of the table. A mane of silver hair parted around a pair of azure horns on his forehead, and he opened a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth to speak. ¡°Barck, you have broken our most fundamental rule, and there must be consequences.¡±


    ¡°Shut it Solen! I paid for his soul, and had tha¡¯ right to im it!¡± The dwarf growled.


    ¡°Paid too much for it, I say.¡± A man with the delicate ears and beady nose of a serval stretched his lips in a Cheshire smile. He wore the fine silks and vest of a merchant, and every inch of him spoke of great wealth. His soft voice was carried on a breeze that brought it to every ear at the table.


    ¡°I paid what I thought it was worth, Aaron.¡± The dwarf narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°You still haven¡¯t given him the chance to win it back.¡± The beastfolk countered.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t denied him that chance either!¡±


    ¡°I approve.¡± Another voice broke in. All eyes turned to face a woman sitting at the foot of the table. Her form was at first that of a small human child, then an old elven woman. She became a mother grieving at losing a child, and then a grandmother broken by years of toil. ¡°Archis¡¯s Chosen are always so boring, and this one amuses me. Let Barck keep him.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Yearn likes him.¡± The elven woman muttered.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine with it.¡± A tiny gnomess sitting on raised chair put forward. She wore the overalls and leathers of a hard-working miner or farmer. Her green hair was done up in a pair of pigtails, and her skin was weathered and tanned. Her simple appearance was belied by the richness of her attire, which was all of the highest quality and studded with gems. ¡°Barck was acting in the Chosen¡¯s best interests, and he did technically own the soul already. What do you think, Midna?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me, Tiara!¡± A disheveled human woman waved her hand dismissively. Her blonde mullet swayed as she shook her head from side to side. She wore the clothing of an adventurer. Not the kind that fought monsters, but one of the original explorers. Her leathers were worn with hard use, and her pouches bulged with curios. ¡°I agree that Barck broke the spirit of thews, but he did so within them. I say leave the punishment to Solen.¡±


    ¡°Fine. We will put it to a vote.¡± The dragon held up his hand. ¡°On the punishment of Barck for viting the Absolute Right. Hands up for Yea.¡±


    Four hands went up. Three stayed down.


    ¡°I thought you approved of it, Yearn!¡± The dwarf roared.


    ¡°I changed my mind.¡± A small elven girl giggled.


    ¡°Four yeas, three nays, and my abstention. The yeas have it. Barck, for viting the Absolute Right of Peter Samson, you are sanctioned. The board is hidden from you and you may not know the movements or status of any other Chosen. You may not grant them quests, nor speak to them through any means.¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± The dwarf spat to the side. ¡°I dinnae care.¡±


    ¡°I know, so in addition I levy one generation of souls against you.¡±


    The gnomess gasped, and the dwarf stumbled back a bit as though struck. An old woman¡¯s wheezingughter turned into the mocking roar of a female dragon at the foot of the table.


    ¡°That is a bit much, Solen.¡± The man with the book raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.


    ¡°Do you want to Host, Archis?¡± The dragon hissed, and smoke curled from his nose.


    ¡°Once was enough for me, thank you.¡±


    The dragon turned to the dwarf. ¡°Your sentence is passed. Leave my pavilion.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to regret pushing me out. Ya may have blocked me from the board, but I¡¯m yin'' a higher game.¡± The dwarf shot over his shoulder as he stood up and marched out.


    Barck stepped down the stairs, and a gleaming opaque rainbow shell enveloped the gazebo behind him. He began to walk around the mountain as he hummed to himself.


    Barck opened his hand and a ss appeared in it. The ss was quite tall and oddly shaped; it looked more like a vase than a tankard. A golden image of a cheerful gnome was etched upon it. The dwarf frowned and ran his hand over the etching, which disappeared and was reced with the golden image of a dwarf raising his tankard in a toast. The dwarf smiled and in an instant the ss was filled with an amber liquid. The faint scent of lemons wafted from the ss, and the rich vapours poured down over the mountain.


    ¡°Yes, it will all be worth it. Perhaps he¡¯ll even be able to fix everything.¡± Barck smiled, and took a drink thatsted an age.

 Chapter 36: Interlude: Heart to Hearts

    <h4>Chapter 36: Interlude: Heart to Hearts</h4>


    <i>Several months previously</i>


    ¡°Scuse me Opal?¡±


    Wreck opened the door a crack and peaked inside the Doctor¡¯s cabin. She had left Pete and Bran behind at the door for a few reasons, not the least of which was that the two of them were a bit stressful.


    The room was dark and smelled of medicine and sweat. Opal had a fairly well-furnished room considering the locale. Her floor was a rich red carpet, with designs that were somewhat out of date, but still chic. Her walls were covered in tapestries that showed the dwarven body, everything from nerves to muscles to bones. A spare cot shoved to the side was clearly for long term care, and a workstation with shelves filled by medicines, notes, and mana stones took up one entire wall.


    A hearth burned merrily on the other wall, filling the small room with warmth and light.


    Opal was a lump under the covers in a corner bed. She was faintly shivering, and her head turned towards the door at the sudden intrusion.


    ¡°Is that you Wreck?¡± Opal croaked, as she was wracked with a coughing fit.


    ¡°Aye Doc, can Ie in?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± *cough* ¡°Is it that time of the month again?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Alright,e on in.¡±


    Wreck opened the door wide and shoved it shut behind her. Opal struggled to sit, and Wreck walked over to help her up. While Doctor Opal still had many years ahead of her, it was at times like this that she showed her age.


    ¡°Thank you Wreck. Give me a moment.¡± Opal reached under her bed and pulled out a small ornate rod and twisted it. A sigil on the rod began to glow, revealing a motif of a dragon boxed into an upside-down triangle. ¡°Alright, we can talk.¡±


    Wreck¡¯s entire demeanor shifted, and her stance grew more rxed. ¡°How are you doing Opal? Bran was really concerned; he¡¯s absolutely sure that you¡¯re <i>dying.</i>¡±


    Opal sighed and sunk back into her cushioned bed. ¡°Bran tried, and he¡¯s a dear, but he <i>fusses</i> so.¡±


    ¡°Of course he does, he¡¯spletely smitten with you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a separate issue, and one I don¡¯t care to discuss right now.¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡± Opal hunched over as she was wracked with coughs. Wreck patted her on the back, her face growing concerned.


    ¡°Have you had a tonic?¡±


    ¡°I finished off thest of it this morning.¡±


    ¡°I can mix some up for you. May I use your workstation?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do that.¡±


    ¡°No no, I insist. You stay there and I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re taken care of.¡±


    Wreck walked over to the workstation and began mixing ingredients. Her hands were a blur as she mixed and poured. Opal pulled out a handkerchief and blew into it as Wreck poured the mixture into arge empty bottlebelled ¡®Tonic¡¯. After the bottle was full, she filled a small pot with some of the liquid and ced it on an apparatus atop the workstation. The apparatus began to glow red hot, and Wreck picked up a wooden spoon and began stirring.


    ¡°It¡¯ll take a while to heat up, Opal.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright, thank you. How are you finding the mine?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, though it¡¯s quite a bit more boisterous than I had expected.¡±


    Opal chuckled.


    ¡°I can see how you¡¯d think so, but I assure you this isn¡¯t normal.¡±


    ¡°None of this situation is normal.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    The two sat in silence as the tonic heated up. Wreck eventually stood and began doing some tidying up, putting away the Doctor¡¯s clothes and tossing her unmentionables into theundry.


    ¡°How are you, really?¡± Opal¡¯s voice was filled with concern as she watched Wreck work.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ doing well considering the circumstances.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t think what happened to you was fair.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t for you or me to decide. Dwarvenw applies to all dwarves, no matter their status. That is how our government functions.¡±


    ¡°You know that isn¡¯t <i>really</i> true. The nobility takes certain liberties all the time.¡± Opal pointed out, her tone growing a bit harsh.


    ¡°That is <i>them.</i> I am <i>me.</i> And I choose to follow thews.¡±


    ¡°And, we are all the better for it.¡± Opal¡¯s tone grew a bit motherly. ¡°Your grandfather is proud of you, you know.¡±


    ¡°Then why did he send me <i>here,</i> so far away from the Capital.¡±


    ¡°For the same reason he gave you illusion enchantments and manipted your prisoner logs. To keep you safe.¡±


    Wreck stewed for a while, then went to remove the slightly steaming pot. She poured it into a cup and brought it to Opal. Opal took a deep sip and sighed.


    ¡°It¡¯s time for your monthly recharge, right? The chest is under my bed.¡±


    Wreck fished under the bed and pulled out a in wooden chest. She opened it to reveal a glittering mound of fingernail sized manastones. She pulled one out and fiddled with a ne hidden under her shirt. For a brief moment, there was a sh of white blonde curls and a pair of umber eyes before Wreck once again stood in the Doctor¡¯s cabin, her nondescript stringy beard and dull gaze unchanged from moments before.


    ¡°That amazes me every time I see it.¡± Opal murmured. She held a now empty cup up to Wreck, who took it.


    ¡°Thank you for agreeing to be my grandfather¡¯s agent in this Doctor.¡± Wreck said. She walked over to a basin and washed the mug before cing it back on the rack.


    ¡°It was an honour to serve his grace.¡±


    There was a knock at the door, and the two of them jumped.


    ¡°It¡¯s me doc, I got something to make you feel better. It¡¯s somethin¡¯ new called caudle.¡± Bran¡¯s muffled voice came through the wooden door.


    ¡°One moment Bran!¡± Opal picked up the rod and nodded at Wreck. ¡°Thank you for your help, Tourmaline.¡± She twisted, and the dragon pattern disappeared.


    ¡°Sure, Opal.¡± Wreck nodded and walked over to open the door a crack. She leaned outside and grumbled, ¡°Shaddup, Bran. Doc Opal¡¯s restin¡¯.¡±


    ---


    <i>Even more months previously</i>


    ¡°Well Balin, what do you want to do?¡± Annie looked down at the dwarf she loved. The two of them were up on a ridge away from the camp. Not so far that their magical manacles would activate, but far enough away that they wouldn¡¯t be disturbed.


    ¡°I¡¯m stumped Annie. They said ma indenture would be near fifty years now.¡± Balin sighed, his head upon herp. Her beard tickled his forehead and sheughed as he batted it aside. ¡°Tha¡¯s more than what workin'' hard can fix.¡±


    ¡°Well, you are a skilledborer. You could try and join one of the rafter crew?¡± The rafter crew put up the mine supports. They got more time off their indenture as they were a more skilled position. As a carpenter, Balin could join them, but it was also a more dangerous position.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be caught dead in those pocket-pants.¡± The two of themughed before Annie grew somber.


    ¡°You nearly were, caught dead that is.¡± Annie wrapped her arms around Balin¡¯s head, and he sneezed as her beard caught in his nose. ¡°Thanks be to the Gods and Pete that you survived.¡± A tear nearly squeezed its way out from an eyelid before she took a deep sniff and stopped it.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine now.¡± Said Balin. ¡°That which doesn¡¯t kill ye makes ya stronger!¡± He puffed out his chest before he too grew somber. ¡°I don'' want to take anymore risks, Annie. Not when I got so much ta lose now.¡±


    The two sat in silence for a while before Balin spoke back up. ¡°Pete¡¯s got an idea he told me about. I don'' think I like it¡­¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°He said I¡¯d need to shovel shit for ¡®alf a year, and then we¡¯d be out in a month.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Annie sat bolt upright, her knees shifting. Balin¡¯s head slipped off herp and bounced on the ground. ¡°Sorry!¡±


    ¡°By my beard! Owch!¡± Balin cradled his head and rolled around.


    ¡°What do you mean, in a month?¡± Annie asked, as she ced Balin¡¯s head back in herp and patted it.


    ¡°Ow¡­ I dunno. He said he¡¯s got a grand n. He knows ¡®ow to make somethin that¡¯ll make enough gold to break both our indentures. Said it would revolu- revoluti- change minin¡¯ forever.¡±


    ¡°Do you believe him?¡±


    ¡°Well, I thought he was crazy when he wanted sugar fer tha'' beer. Look where that went.¡±


    The two of them thought back to the Radler incident. Bran had lemonade avable every night now. He said it would protect against scurvy, and it was in every dwarf¡¯s best interested to drink some. They all knew what it was REALLY about though, and he wasn¡¯t fooling anyone with that ¡®doctor¡¯s orders¡¯ spiel.


    ¡°Balin¡­¡± Annie paused, this was perhaps her best opportunity to tell him.


    ¡°Aye Annie?¡±


    ¡°I got word from Grim today.¡± Annie took a deep breath. ¡°The city administration has allowed for the reduction of my indenture.¡±


    ¡°Annie! Tha¡¯s great!¡± Balin sat up, a look of joy on his face. ¡°Was it tha grease?¡±


    ¡°Yes, nearly every mine in Minnova is using it now.¡± Annie¡¯s face flushed with pride. It was her first sessful invention, and soon everyone would be using it. ¡°I¡¯ll be leaving within a few weeks.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I¡¯ll miss ya.¡±


    ¡°I know, I¡¯ll miss you too.¡± Annie¡¯s voice grew resolute. ¡°I¡¯m going ahead. I need to see how the brewery is doing and get things ready for when you and Pete get out. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s been happening for the past year, and I¡¯m worried. I suspect most of the workers will have left, and my family can''t run that whole brewery alone.¡±


    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll make sure Pete doesn¡¯t bring the whole camp down in the meantime.¡±


    ¡°Luck o¡¯ Barck with that Balin!¡± Annieughed. ¡°I''ll take a dozen grumpy workers over a single Pete!¡±


    ¡°Hah! Luck o¡¯ Barck to ye too Annie, not that you¡¯ll need it. You¡¯ll do well, I know it!¡±


    The two of them watched a line of carriages slowly wind into the city far in the distance. Soon they would all be there, free dwarves once again.

 Chapter 37: Interlude: Ginger I Can’t Believe It’s Not Ale

    <h4>Chapter 37: Interlude: Ginger I Can''t Believe It''s Not Ale</h4>


    ¡°I¡¯ve got all our stuff packed up Pete.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I don¡¯t want to leave anythin¡¯ important behind.¡±


    ¡°Because we have sooo much stuff.¡±


    ¡°Hey, speak for yourself!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got everythin¡¯ you own packed into a tiny little sack.¡±


    ¡°Touch¨¦. What about you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need ta go an¡¯ get it from city hallter. I got some tools and things.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m just about done too, we just need to wait for Bran.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the weird bucket ye¡¯ve been yin¡¯ with. What did ya say it was?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my going away present for everyone. It¡¯s a drink called ginger pop.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of pop. At least it¡¯s not one of yer bastardized beers again.¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure.¡±


    ¡ª


    <i>Three weeks prior</i>


    Our gunpowder test was going to happen soon, likely without a hitch, and I was going to be free. Before we left though, I wanted to leave everyone in the mine with onest present; an actually decent beer. Unfortunately, I had to tiptoe carefully around the issue, as making bootleg beer would probably set some dwarves off.


    That didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t cheat! There were two kinds of beer that would be incredibly easy to make and source, and could be disguised as something other than beer until it was toote.


    ¡°Muhahaha.¡±


    ¡°Pete, yer doin¡¯ that creepyugh again.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Bran.¡±


    Bran thunked a pile of groceries on the kitchen counter and went to put on an apron. ¡°I got tha¡¯ ginger ye wanted, and you can have as much sugar as you want.¡±


    ¡°Thanks again for letting me use all the kitchen supplies.¡±


    ¡°Er, *cough* sure. So, what are ya makin¡¯ this time?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a special drink called ginger bee¡­ ginger ay¡­. ginger pop.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of pop.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a fizzy drink, kind of like beer, with some alcohol, kind of like beer, but it isn¡¯t beer.¡±


    ¡°Yer sure? I don¡¯t want ya makin¡¯ unlicensed beer in ma kitchen. That¡¯s against city and guildw. I thought you were tryin¡¯ to get <i>out</i> of jail.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. Not a single brewer in all of Minnova would call this beer.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Bran shuffled his feet a bit. ¡°Is it sweet? Will Opal like it?¡±


    ¡°I can guarantee she may even like it more than radlers, and I¡¯ll even leave you something special.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°My ginger bug!¡±


    ¡°What is it?"


    ¡°Sigh. Watch and learn, Bran. First though, you¡¯ll need to help me grate this ginger.¡±


    Bran eyed the brown pile warily. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of ginger. Are ya goin'' to use it all?¡±


    ¡°Not right away. The first thing I need to make is the base for the ginger pop, and that¡¯s going to take a week, at least. Wash your hands first though, you filthy animal.¡±


    ¡°I dunno why yer so obsessed with that.¡± Bran shook his head. ¡°I already told ya that dwarves don¡¯t get sick much.¡±


    ¡°Call me old fashioned. Now <i>wash</i>.¡± Bran grumped about ¡®not old fashioned¡¯ butplied, giving his hands a good scrub with soap and water. The kitchen was fairly clean, but that seemed to be more of a ¡®Bran likes a clean and organized space¡¯ thing.


    In the meantime, I began grating my ginger. As any good Canadian could tell you, Coke is better than Pepsi, and gingerale is the best. Not the stuff that only <i>pretends</i> it has ginger, but the real deal. I was going to make a ginger beer, which takes a bit of time since you need to let it ferment first.


    Fermentation is the trick for every alcohol. Wine, beer, ginger beer, they all have the same basic step of ¡®let sugar and yeast ferment for a while to make alcohol¡¯. I had put some thought into brewing basic pruno in order to scratch my brewing itch, but decided against bringing that abomination into this world.


    Pruno, better known as ¡®prison hooch¡¯, or ¡®prison beer¡¯ is a kind of alcohol that absolutely anyone can make with almost zero effort. Throughout history it has been brewed in ziplock bags, tote bags, garbage bags, and toilets. When you¡¯re stuck in prison, alcohol is worth its weight in gold, and the taste doesn¡¯t matter. I, however, am a perfectionist, and pruno is a crime against alcohol.


    Making pruno is dead simple. Take a bunch of mashed fruit, oranges and lemons with some raspberries are best, and put them in a bag with some water, juice, and sugar. The next step is getting some yeast to start the fermentation process. Technically there is yeast everywhere, and you can get lucky with just the yeast on the fruit, but that makes it likely that the concoction will rot instead of fermenting. It¡¯s easy enough to get some baker¡¯s yeast from a grocery store, but prisoners will usually just stuff a couple pieces of bread into the bag instead. Baking bread doesn¡¯t always kill the yeast, and there will usually be enough in a couple pieces of bread to jump start the brew.


    Now you just let it sit somewhere warm for a few days, like with warm¡­ water¡­ in a toilet.


    So, while the idea of making a real bag of prison pruno while <i>in a prison</i> had appealed to my adventurous side¡­. I had better things to do.


    Bran came alongside me and the two of us grated ginger for a while. It was nice just working on a brew again. I¡¯d been making so many desserts and sweets in this kitchen and been so busy with the mining and gunpowder project, that I had forgotten the glorious feeling of making a beer. I was nning to make enough ginger beer for the entire camp, so we needed a lot of ginger. And honestly, ginger beer can really take any amount of ginger and still be ptable.


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it for the ginger. Pass me the bucket.¡±


    Bran passed me arge bucket, and I dumped in the ginger along with several cups of sugar. I added a gallon or so of water, just enough to dissolve all the sugar. Then I pulled out adle and stirred. ¡°Baker¡¯s yeast please.¡±


    Balin passed me a hunk of something that looked a lot like butter. I was used to dry instant yeast for my beers, but it would do. I added a spoonful to the mixture and stirred it in.


    ¡°Alright! Done!¡± I shook my hands off and went to wash them.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Bran asked, surprised. ¡°I thought it would take more time.¡± He peered into the bucket. ¡°Looks¡­. boring.¡±


    ¡°What we¡¯ve made here is something called a ¡®ginger bug¡¯. We¡¯re going to spend the next week feedin¡¯ it.¡±


    ¡°Kind of like a sourdough bug?¡±


    ¡°Sure, it¡¯s quite simr. We¡¯ll need to ensure that mould stays out of it by adding enough yeast, keep it nice and hydrated, and feed it some more sugar and ginger every day. We¡¯ll know it¡¯s ready when it starts to bubble a lot.¡± I tied some cheesecloth on top of the bucket and then took the bucket to an empty section of the kitchen. I wanted my bug to stay somewhat warm, and the pantry would have been too cold.


    ¡°This is a weird drink, and I saw you make caudle.¡± Bran chuffed.


    ¡°Trust me, Opal is going to love it.¡±


    ¡ª


    <i>Seven dayster</i>


    ¡°It¡¯s ALIIIIVE!!!!! Muhahaha!!!¡±


    ¡°Creepyugh again, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Worth it!¡±


    The cheesecloth on top of my bucket was rippling slightly from the bubbles rising through my ginger bug. I¡¯d beening into the kitchen every day to add another few cups of sugar and ginger to the bucket.


    The slurry of ginger at the bottom of the bucket was gently waving as carbon dioxide from the fermentation process bubbled in the bug.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready for the next step, Bran. We¡¯re going to need your <i>big</i> pot to make some gingerette.¡± I held up my hand as Bran opened his mouth to ask the inevitable question. ¡°A gingerette isn¡¯t a pretty dwarf maid with a red beard, it¡¯s just a hot ginger tea with a bunch of sugar.¡±


    ¡°Easy enough.¡± Bran nodded and pulled an enormous cookpot onto the stove. It was the one he usually used to cook chili for the work crew. ¡°We¡¯re goin¡¯ to need a lot o¡¯ ginger though.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I brought Balin!¡± I pped Balin on the shoulder.


    ¡°At least it¡¯s better than shovelin¡¯ goatshit.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°Nope!¡± Bran and I chorused, as we each grabbed a grater and handed him one too.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of ginger¡­¡± Balin¡¯s eyes went up the pile sitting on the table.


    ¡°Yep!¡± Bran and Iughed as we began grating.


    And grating.


    And grating.


    And grating.


    Finally we had an enormous yellow mushy pile that I scooped into the pot. I added several cups of sugar and stirred while Bran juiced some lemons.


    ¡°Lemons again?¡± Balin moaned.


    ¡°Grapefruit could work too, and I wish I had some jpenos but lemons are what we have.¡± I started up the stove and we sat and chatted while we waited. I stirred it every once in a while until it came to a merry boil, then turned it off. We waited for the pot to cool while Bran forced us to clean and re-organize his kitchen.


    ¡°Herees the hard part. We need to strain this.¡± I looked at therge strainer, and considered the problem of lifting the enormous pot to run the tea through it.


    ¡°I got it.¡± Bran said, as he grabbed the strainer and waved it around in the pot until a vortex formed. With a deft hand he scooped all the ginger out of the tea and dumped it out into thepost. Balin and I pped appreciatively at the sight of a master working at his craft.


    ¡°Next step is to add the lemon juice and¡­ this!¡± I held up the bucket and pulled off the cheesecloth. The brown slurry inside the bucket bubbled and popped. Balin jumped away and even Bran took a step back.


    ¡°Ya sure this isn¡¯t just a n of Pete¡¯s ta kill off any witnesses?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°Probably not.¡± Bran said, though he sounded a bit unsure.


    ¡°It¡¯s fiiiine.¡± I poured most of the liquid out of the bucket and into pot, though I left the slurry at the bottom untouched. ¡°Now add the lemons Bran.¡±


    Bran shrugged and added the lemon juice. I took a moment to thank my dutiful bug.


    ¡°You can keep adding sugar and ginger to this bucket to keep the bug alive if you want to, Bran.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll see how this turns out before I try that, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± The next step was to pour the gingerette into a bottle and let it undergo a kind of secondary fermentation called ¡®bottle conditioning¡¯. Unfortunately, Annie¡¯s predicament meant I didn¡¯t trust the barrelsmonly used for brewing, so everyone would need to be happy with t ginger beer. It was what they were already used to, so no real big loss.


    ¡°Now we wait another two weeks! Hopefully it will be ready before we go!¡±


    ¡ª


    <i>Two weekster</i>


    ¡°-- and I want to thank Pete and Balin for their hard work this past year!¡± Grim¡¯s voice echoed through the full mess hall.


    The crowd roared and cheered and jeered. Balin and I stood proudly on the stage as our manacles were removed, and we were officially signed out of the mine.


    ¡°Do you two have anythin¡¯ to say before you go?¡± Grim looked like he <i>really</i> didn¡¯t want to do that, but it was tradition. He¡¯d let us know ahead of time to prepare a speech if we wanted. I nodded and walked forward.


    ¡°I want to thank you all for being an amazing crew! You had our back so many times, and I¡¯m going to miss every one of you. Both Balin and I had our lives saved by the good dwarves of the Minnova City Mine, and I¡¯ll never forget you! Tomemorate our freedom, and thank you, I prepared a special drink as a present for all of you!¡±


    ¡°Not more radler, I hope!¡± A dwarf in the crowd heckled.


    ¡°He said it was a present, not a disappointment!¡± Sam roared from the back. Thanks Sam.


    ¡°This is something new, called ¡®ginger pop¡¯! There isn¡¯t any beer in it at all. Bran has it in the pot at the back, so go and enjoy it with dinner!¡±


    The dwarves murmured and jostled into ce, eventually forming a cursing line. Bran and I began serving the ginger beer. The first dwarves through the line took a few sips and raised their eyebrows. A couple of them even drained their mug and got back in line. I smiled with pleasure. Yes indeed, I had finally made a decent beer for the dwarven popce, and it had nothing to do with beer, so nothing could possibly go wr¨C


    ¡°Hey, this stuff tastes even better than beer!¡±


    ¡°What did you say!?¡±


    ¡°You heard ¡®im, this is great!¡±


    ¡°You take that back!¡±


    ¡°Make me!¡±


    ¡°Yer¡¯ mother!¡±


    Then the fists began to fly.


    Grim¡¯s voice was thest thing I heard before I ducked under a table. ¡°Tha father o¡¯ chaos ¡®imself must have sent ya to destroy my camp! PEETE!!!¡±

 Chapter 38: Interlude: Brother Mine

    <h4>Chapter 38: Interlude: Brother Mine</h4>


    ¡°Balin, can we take a break here?¡± I moved to the edge of the road and leaned against the rock wall. The terrain was actually incredibly craggy, with canyons, ridges, and weird crevasses. It felt kind of like walking on an enormous grey-brown cier. The only reason we weren¡¯t horribly lost was the well-maintained road down to the main highway. It was a pretty gruelling hike, with the asional sheer cliff to either side, though it did make for fantastic views. We were currently on one such section, with a ridge rising above our heads, and a drop off stretching down nearly twenty meters on the other side of the road.


    After our goodbyes, we¡¯d been freed of our manacles, given a small bag of silver each, and sent on our merry way. My bag had over one hundred silvers in it, which was actually a pretty decent amount. I hadn¡¯t expected that much, since removing our indenture was essentially an advance on any gold the city earned from boomdust. Imagine my surprise to learn that Bran had been selling my recipes to earn some silver for all the sugar and lemons. I¡¯d been angry at first, but then he¡¯d pulled out nearly ny silver and handed it to me. A small tear came to my eye at the thought.


    ¡°Sure ya want to stop? We still have at least a dozen hours ta go. I know you¡¯re good for it. Yer vitality must be huge with those blessins.¡± Balin said.


    ¡°It¡¯s bigger than you think.¡± I mimed with my hands and he snorted.


    ¡°That what ya tell thadies?¡±


    ¡°Just the ones with red beards.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let Speaker John hear ya say that!¡±


    We bothughed and then paused as the reality of our newfound freedom crashed down on us. There was a non-zero chance that we¡¯d never see Speaker John again. Balin plunked down on the ground beside me, leaned his back against the wall, and pulled out a canteen full of ale. He took a dreg and held it out.


    ¡°Ya want some?¡±


    ¡°No, Bran gave me my own.¡±


    ¡°Radler?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    "That he was out o'' ginger pop."


    We grinned at each other.


    ¡°To freedom!¡±


    ¡°Praise Aaron!¡±


    We each took a drink then wiped our moustaches clean. Balin¡¯s handlebar had finally started to grow back in a little bit.


    ¡°Why are we stoppin¡¯, if yer not actually tired? Just wanted a drink?¡±


    I stayed silent for a bit as I contemted. I¡¯d thought a lot about what I was going to tell Balin, and eventually decided he was owed the whole truth.


    ¡°Do you remember what I told you in the mine tunnel?¡±


    ¡°What? Nah, I was there in body ¨C¡°


    ¡°But not in mind, yes, I know. I told you I remembered a bit about my past.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Balin snapped his fingers. ¡°Are ya ready to tell me? Why couldn¡¯t ya just do it in the camp?


    ¡°I can¡¯t perform when people are watching.¡±


    ¡°Yer a dirty minded little horny goat, ya know that?¡± Balin glowered at me.


    ¡°Not guilty. Anyway, I figured there may be some surveince in the mine.¡±


    Balin thought about that for a moment before he nodded. ¡°I know Whisperer Gemma can hear things from far away. There might have been magic on tha cuffs too, but I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°I thought the cuffs were just designed to lock up if we went too far.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but they could have had listenin¡¯ or trackin¡¯ magic on ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think they did?¡±


    ¡°Nah, expensive and tha Minin¡¯ Camp aint that kind of prison.¡±


    ¡°They would have caught Tim more easily, if they did.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s that.¡±


    We both grew a bit morose at the mention of Tim. He¡¯d been carted out a few days ago, headed to the capital prison. He¡¯d undergo ¡®rehabilitation¡¯ there, whatever that means. I just prayed that it didn¡¯t mean brainwashing or some other kind of mental maniption. The fact that kind of stuff existed here made me a bit wary of what other nasty tricks were going to catch me by surprise.


    ¡°Are there enchanted items that block mind manipting effects Balin?¡± I doubted they cost¡­ a hundred and twenty silver, but I could start saving.


    ¡°Like a Swindler¡¯s? Aye, but they¡¯re expensive. Most Nobles have ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Yer stalin¡¯¡¯¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m Lenin ¨C never mind. You¡¯re right. Are you sittin¡¯ down?¡±


    Balin waved his hands in his general ¡®already sitting down¡¯ vicinity and arched an eyebrow.


    ¡°Alright. Balin¡­. I¡¯m a human.¡±


    Balin choked, and then chortled, and then coughed. His face went through a couple of odd contortions before it finally settled on ¡®amused¡¯.


    ¡°I dunno what I was expectin¡¯, but it wasn¡¯t that! Pete, I¡¯m a forward-thinkin¡¯ dwarf, so if ye identify as human that¡¯s okay. I had a cousin that identified as an elf; cut his beard and shaped his ears. I know that greybeards can get stuffy about it, but it¡¯s ¨C ¡°


    ¡°No, I mean I <i>am</i> a human. My spirit is human.¡± I interrupted.


    ¡°Like I said ¨C ¡°


    ¡°No, I <i>died</i> Balin. It would be more urate to say I <i>was </i>human, and <i>now</i> I¡¯m a dwarf. The Gods or whatever put my spirit in the body, er¡­ spark, of Peter Samson with all my human memories intact.¡±


    Balin went really quiet. His face slowly lost the amused expression and his mouth became a more serious line.


    ¡°Are ya serious?¡±


    ¡°Deathly.¡±


    ¡°Pete¡­ that¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Ridiculous? I know, but it¡¯s the truth.¡± I calmed the rising tension in my voice and took a deep breath. ¡°My original name was Peter Phillips, and I¡¯m from another universe. All the odd things I¡¯ve been inventin¡¯ and my weird references are because my memories are from apletely different world.¡±


    Balin was really quiet for a bit and I gave him some time to think. It was a lot to take in at once, and honestly, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have ever believed it. On Erd though, magic made the impossible possible. Balin took a few deep swigs of his canteen before he spoke.


    ¡°Opal never talked to ya about death, did she?¡±


    That was an odd segue. ¡°No. It¡­ never really came up.¡± I sat down beside him, and took a deep drink from my own canteen.


    ¡°If ya knew, you wouldn¡¯t talk about this, not even with me.¡±


    ¡°Do I sound insane?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ it¡¯s believable.¡± Balin dry-washed his hands and looked up into the sky for a few moments before he continued. ¡°Here on Erd, when we die our spirits are reborn within a new spark.¡±


    ¡°Like reincarnation?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that it is. You know it?¡±


    ¡°My world had¡­. simr ideas. Go on.¡±


    ¡°Yer spirit gets a new spark. But tha loves and the hates, tha personality<i>,</i> who you <i>are</i>?<i></i>That¡¯s all part of yer spirit and ites with.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that people are defined by their nature, not their nurture?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°You know this for sure?¡±


    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s all part of Tha Firmament. When yer Blessed by tha Gods, they get ta choose where yer spirit goes when you die. The un-Blessed are split amongst all of ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ Barck and Tiara get my soul when I die?¡± I didn¡¯t think I was reallyfortable with that. I¡¯d gone from agnostic, to theist, to ¡®the gods own my soul¡¯ in pretty quick session this past year.


    ¡°Nah, they just get ta choose where ya reincarnate.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you usually don¡¯t keep your memories?¡±


    Balin snorted, ¡°That would make fer some weird births.¡±


    ¡°My goodness, this is most ufortable, please just shove me back in?¡± I mimicked an offended baby.


    ¡°Yer a dirty minded little horny goat.¡± Balin chuckled, but it was a painedugh.


    ¡°I got that. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s all set up so the Gods can put the right spirit in the right ce at the right time.¡± I paused and pulled at my beard for a moment. ¡°Do the Gods have ¡®favourite¡¯ spirits?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s about right. Some spirits have been around since tha start o¡¯ this world.¡±


    Phew. That was something to take in. ¡°Only some?¡±


    ¡°Aye, sometimes tha Gods make new ones. Or¡­¡± he trailed off.


    ¡°Or?¡±


    ¡°Or they get them from other worlds.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Balin added, ¡°They don¡¯t usually keep their memories though.¡±


    ¡°Usually?¡±


    ¡°Never, more likes.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ I shouldn¡¯t talk about it because¡­ it marks me as something special.¡±


    ¡°Aye, very. We really need ta get you to a priest.¡±


    We sat for a while, Balin and I. Friends now, hopefully friends in the future.


    ¡°When?¡± Balin¡¯s lip quavered as he asked.


    ¡°After my ident in the sulphur freschie.¡± I replied, quietly.


    Balin held his arm over his eyes and took a deep breath.


    ¡°I never really knew ya before that. We¡¯d spoken a few times, but Peter Samson was a hard dwarf ta like.¡±


    I didn¡¯t say anything. What could I say under the circumstances. ¡®Oh, I¡¯m d you didn¡¯t like the dwarf whose body I snatched¡¯?


    ¡°So ya never lost yer memories.¡± Balin¡¯s question was more of a statement.


    ¡°No¡­I never had them to begin with.


    ¡°Doc Opal will kill ya if she ever finds out.¡±


    ¡°Nah, those lessons weren¡¯t wasted. I owe her, and you, a lot. I never meant to lie to you Balin. Everything I¡¯ve said and done has been real.¡±


    A few tears did spring to Balin¡¯s eyes then, and trailed down his cheeks to wet his beard. I admit to some drippage myself. Can I just say that crying and sneezing with an abundance of facial hair is a singrly awful experience?


    ¡°Thanks fer trustin¡¯ me with this, Pete.¡±


    ¡°I had to Balin, yer the only family I got here.¡±


    We shared a hug and then sat there, drinking silently. Eventually Balin cleared his throat and spoke up.


    ¡°I should tell you ¡®bout my family¡­.¡±


    We sat there and talked for about an hour. About the past. About the future.


    About who we were and would be.


    Then as one, we stood and took our first steps into that future.


    As brothers.

 Chapter 39: The Journey

    <h4>Chapter 39: The Journey</h4>


    ¡°Alright Balin, give me your hand.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, how aren¡¯t ya tired yet Pete?¡±


    ¡°Easy, my vitality is seventeen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s disgustin¡¯, how?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell youter. Focus on climbing.¡± I pulled and yanked Balin up on the boulder with me. I turned around to look at our goal. Only another hundred meters or so to go.


    We¡¯d found a section of road that had gone around arge¡­ hill was the correct word, but mountain felt more appropriate now. We¡¯d figured that a climb over the ¡®hill¡¯ would save us several hours of travel.


    Dumb, dumb, dumb.


    ¡°Watch it!¡± A rock slipped as I walked and bounced towards Balin¡¯s head. He swore and ducked underneath it.


    ¡°Barck¡¯s beard, Pete! This was a terrible n!¡±


    ¡°You agreed to it!¡±


    ¡°It looked easy from down below.¡± Balin muttered, as he struggled to draw in breath. Balin¡¯s vitality wasn¡¯t nearly as high as mine. An increase of five worked out to be roughly a one and a half increase of the lower value. That meant the climbing was hard, but without several bags of ore the actual effort was pretty much a cakewalk. For me, anyway.


    ¡°Aye, but think of the view we¡¯ll get from the top!¡± I trudged upwards, while this time I ensured that my feet were on steady stone before I took each step.


    I waited for Balin at the top and we crested the hill together. The ¡®horizon¡¯ stretched before us; we were even higher than the ridge at the mining camp. This hill was about halfway to Minnova, but most importantly¡­ the main highwayy directly beneath us.


    A few other travelers and carts were on the road, even this far off from the city. We were high enough that they looked like ants from here. I shuddered slightly at the thought of ants and turned to Balin.


    ¡°Do you need to rest for a bit?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Gimme a moment. I need a drink.¡±


    He grabbed his sk and took a deep drag.


    ¡°You know, water would probably be better in this case.¡±


    ¡°Did ya bring any?¡±


    ¡°Eh¡­ no.¡±


    ¡°Me neither.¡± Balin groaned. ¡°We do have lots of beer though. Nice of Bran ta do that fer us.¡±


    ¡°Alcohol isn¡¯t that great for dehydration, it¡¯s a diuretic.¡±


    Balin sighed as he took the sk away from his lips.


    ¡°Pete, if you want ta keep a low profile, ya shouldn¡¯t be usin¡¯ words like ¡®diuretic¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ that¡¯s a good point.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it mean? Alcohol gives ya tha shits?¡±


    I chuckled.


    ¡°No, it means that your body uses a lot of water to flush out the alcohol. Do you know anything about the liver?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it tastes good when ya spread it on bread.¡±


    ¡°Ugh. Your liver is the organ responsible for removing toxins from your body.¡±


    Balin¡¯s face pinched up. ¡°Pete, I know ya don¡¯t like beer, but callin¡¯ it toxic is a bit much.¡±


    ¡°Oh hush. Doc Opal was a good enough doctor that I have little doubt dwarves are aware alcohol is bad for you.¡± I wagged a finger as I spoke,


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that¡¯s true fer humans.¡± Balin nodded, ¡°But it¡¯s not too bad fer us unless yapletely ignore raisin¡¯ yer vitality.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I considered what he¡¯d said. Vitality gave stamina, but it also provided resistance to disease and poisons. Dwarves had a naturally higher vitality, which made them more resistant to alcohol. That made the fact they were total lightweights even weirder. Maybe more of the alcohol crossed the brain barrier than normal? Then why hadn¡¯t I been affected by dwarven alcohol even when my vitality was still around twelve? A mystery. I gave up thinking about it after a moment and continued the biology lesson.


    ¡°Your liver metabolizes the alcohol into something your body can handle before it gets dumped into your urine. What little alcohol that¡¯s left goes stays in your blood, but a lot of it also aerates through your lungs. All of this requires water though, which means alcohol makes you thirsty.¡±


    ¡°Mah lungs!?¡± Balin held his hand up to his mouth and breathed out before smelling. ¡°Is that why yer breath smells bad after beer?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ that¡¯s because nobody brushes properly. I don¡¯t know why we don¡¯t have massive cavities.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s brushin yer beard got ta do with it?¡±


    ¡°And you call <i>me</i> a dirty goat.¡±


    We chuckled together for a moment before I continued.


    ¡°There¡¯s ways to test how much alcohol is being removed from your body. In my world there are machines called breathalyzers that can detect the amount of alcoholing out of yer lungs.¡±


    ¡°Neat! They tell ya how drunk you are?¡±


    ¡°Yes, kind of.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯d know how much more before ya pass out?! You could party all night with that!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not¡­ sure. Yes, you could use it to party all night.¡± I pulled out my own canteen and took a drink. ¡°Here, drink some of mine, it¡¯s got a way lower ABV.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s ABV?¡± He took my tankard and looked at it suspiciously.


    ¡°It stands for Alcohol By Volume. My radler has almost half as much alcohol as yours since it¡¯s watered down.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense.¡± He took a couple of deep drinks and then exhaled with pleasure while he wiped his beard with his arm. ¡°Now that yer not hidin¡¯ it, yer full of neat info!¡±


    Dwarven ale had a very low ABV, close to two percent, while most earth beers were closer to six or seven percent. That was one of the things I hoped I¡¯d be able to change when we got to Annie¡¯s brewery. With my higher vitality, I could barely get drunk on regr dwarven ale.


    ¡°Alright let¡¯s try and hit the main highway before we take another break. Are you better now?¡±


    ¡°Fresh as a dwarven househusband.¡± He waggled his eyebrows at me.


    ¡°Please tell me that¡¯s not a real saying.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t lie to ya Pete.¡±


    ¡ª


    The trip down the hill was fairly uneventful. The main highway was nearly ten meters wide and paved with some kind of rough granite. It intersected several paths to other mining camps, and we slowly met up with more travelers as we walked. It was usually other miners or mine personnel, but the asionalpany of armored guards marched by on patrol, their armor ttering as they marched. Balin called them the ¡®Highwatch¡¯ and it was their job to keep the roads clear of bandits and monsters. We chatted with some of them, though most were either in too much of a hurry or too tired to make goodpany.


    The trickle of travelers turned into a flood, and soon we were simply one of dozens traveling towards the city. There were miners carrying picks and shovels, merchants on their cartsden with food and goods, and adventurers. Oh, the adventurers, now there was something out of pure fantasy. I saw a few dwarves in basic leathers, their bandoliers full of throwing axes and hammers. There were gnomish mages decked out in robes and magical outerments, their eyes crackling with magic. te-d warriors carried axes and swords bigger than they were, alongside every other kind of weapon you could imagine. They all radiated power and menace, and everyone gave them a wide berth. I even saw a single elderly bearded human dressed as a mage go by in a cart. He was traveling with several dwarves and they passed us by in an instant.


    I turned my head to watch them go. ¡°Are there a lot of humans in Minnova?¡±


    ¡°Nah, just a few oddballs. There¡¯s more of ¡®em in tha capital.¡±


    What surprised me the most though, was the sheer variety of bodies on disy. Yes, they were mostly gnomes and dwarves, but they were nearly as varied as humans back on earth.


    There were ck and brown skinned dwarves, and some with pink or green hair. I saw one ck-skinned warrior with a massive broadsword walk by who had a freaking <i>afro</i> for a beard. He met up with his party and high-fived a gnome who looked like the evil wizard from a kung-fu movie,plete with east Asian features and a fu-manchu. There were tall dwarves, short dwarves, dwarves in armor, dwarves in robes, and dwarves that were nearly naked. A dwarf had passed by wearing nothing but a loincloth and an incredible series of tattoos. I think he caught me staring, because he winked and wiggled his butt as he walked away.


    ¡°Balin,¡± I pitched my voice low and asked the burning question on my mind. ¡°Why were all the dwarves in the mining camp white?¡± I¡¯d gotten used to the basic whitebread beardbo from the mine, but I¡¯d been sorely mistaken thinking that dwarves all looked like that.


    Balin shrugged, ¡°Crackian dwarves are mostly pale skinned with dark hair. The city has all sorts though.¡±


    ¡°Why would dwarves have dark skin when they live underground?¡± I watched the afro-bearded dwarf as he walked off into the distance.


    ¡°They¡¯re from South Erden, near tha equator. Down there they actually live on top o¡¯ tha mountains, and it gets <i>hot</i>. They¡¯re mostly here for tha dungeon. Greentree is a good dungeon fer new adventurers.¡±


    I thought back to Opal¡¯s lessons.


    ¡°There are three inhabited continents, right? North Erden, South Erden, and Drakken?¡±


    ¡°Aye, though only dragons live on Drakken.¡±


    ¡°We focused on North Erden in my lessons... South Erden is mostly savannah, right?¡±


    Balin nodded, ¡°and full o¡¯ some of tha scariest animals in tha world! Some of those beasties can even kill monsters!¡±


    ¡°Are there lions? A big yellow cat with a giant fuzzy mane?¡± I asked excitedly. I loved lions, and they took second ce on my ¡®coolest animal¡¯ list to the all powerful moose.


    ¡°Sort of. There¡¯s pinsirs, which look like big mountain cats. They got six legs, stripes, and a mohawk.¡±


    ¡°Whew, sounds nasty.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lion, but it might do.


    Balin pped me on the back. ¡°We¡¯ve faced a stoneant swarm! Ya won¡¯t find anythin¡¯ nastier outside of a dungeon!¡±


    We eventually hitched a ride from a passing cart full of faintly rotting cabbages. It was driven by a crotchety gnome named Gimbletack, no wonder he was crotchety, and he had been willing to give us a ride into town for a couple of coppers. Balin said it would be nice to walk, but I was itching to enter the city I¡¯d only seen at a distance. Minnova was still a fair ways away, through gullies and over small hills, and I just didn¡¯t want to be stuck walking all day. I enticed him with the prospect of seeing Annie even a few hours sooner.


    Gimbletack was a terrible conversationalist. I tried coaxing some smalltalk out of him, but it always ended in disaster.


    ¡°How long have you been a cabbage farmer?¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°I have been cabbaging longer than you prime specimens of dwarven youth have been alive.¡±


    ¡°Wow. Is it fun?¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°It is about as fun as this conversation, you handsome and intelligent dwarf.¡±


    ¡°Do you take cabbages to any other cities, or just Minnova?¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°If you ask me any more questions I will most certainly make you walk.¡±


    That was about the gist of any conversation, except with a lot more gummy swearing. Thankfully, the cart ate up the kilometers, and we arrived at the outskirts of Minnova well before evening. Balin fell asleep partway through, but I was barely even tired and I was too excited. We went up a small rise, and there it was: the city of Minnova.


    Even from over a kilometer away, the walls rose up into the sky. They stretched for several kilometers to either side, and I could see hundreds of plumes of smoke from cook fires and forges. The center of the cavern was several hundred meters above us, and an enormous purple crystal embedded in it poured light into the cavern. A few clock towers and several steeples peeked over the wall; the bustling sounds of the city were audible even from this far away. I took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of civilization; it was glorious.


    I shook Balin, who was gently snoring; he awoke with a yawn. ¡°Hey, you, you¡¯re finally awake! Look, we¡¯re here!¡± I quipped.


    ¡°Aye, we made it, Pete.¡± Balin sat up and looked around. He smiled as his eyes fell on the approaching walls. ¡°There it is, our new home. Tha city of Minnova.¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and viiny.¡±

 Answering Questions and Fanart

    <h4>Answering Questions and Fanart</h4>


    To start our special Saturday celebration, I''d like to share some amazing fan art shared on the discord by the amazing Emliano Cortes


    Crazy Pete and his lemons


    The big and buff Jeremiah Goldstone (you''ll meet him soon!)


    Sam getting ready to head to the mine


    Looks like everyone has been working on that strength stat. Thanks Emic for the amazing artwork!


    ---


    Some caving photos shared by a rock hound on the discord! Thanks to Daemonwalsh for these.


    ---


    Finally some dwarves by Sloopa and Griffonheart! I''ll likely be using these beards for some dwarves in the near future!


    ---


    Now, for answering questions! These were the most popr questions fromst chapter.


    "Are we going to see more Industrial Revolution tech? Doesn''t have to be printing presses or watermills."


    -SiliconWolf


    Pete won''t really be doing any more tech like that, he''s got brewing to do. However, there are 7 other Chosen Catalysts running around Erd right now....


    "is there a fantasy drink/beer in this world that would blow Pete out of the water? Something that makes him go, "this is Great, and we don''t have this on Earth. Now, how do you make this?"


    - Ghostman


    There are several! Alcohol + alchemy is going to allow for some story beats that wouldn''t exist on earth. I can unequivocally say that there are a few important drinks that already exist, and Pete will be making more.


    ---


    I had no real questions from the patrons, so I''ll be happy to answer a few more in thements today. Come on in, grab a drink, and join us!


    That brings us to the end of this year! If you''re one of my long time readers or followers, please consider hopping on and leaving a rating or review ! Any rating will do, as long as ites from your heart! Also consider giving a thumbs up/thumbs down to the reviews you agree and disagree with!


    Reviews, and especially long form reviews where you rate character, story etc. can have a long term impact on the ability of a story to gain new readers and followers. If you really like BnB and want to give other people the opportunity to find it a review is the best way to do it. A preemptive toast to anyone that takes the time to do the long form version!

 Chapter 40: At the Gates

    <h4>Chapter 40: At the Gates</h4>


    We passed by the dungeon of Greentree as we approached the city, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise up.


    The boundary of the dungeon was a sudden and imposing wall of wood. The dark greens and purples of the treeline loomed towards the road; there was a palpable feeling of menace to the ce. Birdsong, hoots, and roars echoed out from the forest. Several adventuring groups were stationed outside, and they all seemed on high alert. Defensive structures dotted thendscape around the half kilometer diameter copse of trees.


    Arge *crack* caught our attention and several tree tops deeper in the woods swayed. Birds erupted into the air and the forest went silent, but for the sound of more crunching wood moving deeper into the dungeon.


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°Verily, the adventurers do a most excellent job keeping the dungeon contained.¡±


    ¡°We heard about a possible dungeon break back at the¡­ mine. Is it looking likely?¡±


    ¡°Lunara¡¯sce, I hope not.¡± Balin shivered beside me. I patted him on the shoulder as we passed by.


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°By the grace of Barck, no monster stampede shall befall us.¡±


    Gimbletack snapped the reins and urged his donkey on faster. Our eyes never left the dungeon until we were well past. Hopefully, we¡¯d nevere near it again.


    Thest kilometer to the city was packed with travelers. There were even roadside stalls and whole caravans. Then I had my first glimpse of dwarven children; they looked a lot like short human children. Sort of.


    ¡°Balin, those kids have moustaches.¡±


    ¡°All kids have moustaches Pete. You took care of tha unigoats long enough that I woulda thought you knew that.¡±


    ¡°Arggh. No, I mean do all dwarven children have moustaches? Or are those just some gnomes that have aged really well?¡± I whispered hoarsely and pointed towards a small group of children ying what looked like a cross between cricket, croquet, and MMA. A pitcher tossed a small rubber ball at another child who hit it with a makeshift mallet. The ¡®batter¡¯ then ran back and forth between a pair of sticks while the other children tried to tackle them while another group defended. There was a lot of punching and kicking involved.


    Balin leaned over to look. ¡°Ah, they¡¯re yin hitball. I love that game! Ta answer yer question, all dwarven children ¡®ave moustaches. Beard hair doesn¡¯t grow till they¡¯re at least thirty.¡±


    I continued to watch the game in fascination. The higher base vitality of dwarves seemed to make small scraps possible without serious injury. While I watched, the pitcher got a hold of the ball and beaned the runner in the head with it. There was some cheering and then the teams switched ces. Some of the children ran in front of the cart and Gimbletack had to pull on the reins to prevent an ident.


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°Pray move out of the way, dear children! Your mothers must be so proud that you were birthed from their bodies¡¯!¡±


    Crisis averted, I turned back to Balin. ¡°That looks fun. We should y sometime!¡±


    ¡°I used to! I was tha all-star pounder fer my school team!¡± He thumped his chest and pped his arms. ¡°Go Shadow Crows, ca-caw!¡±


    ¡°Go Shadow Crows, ca-caw!¡± I copied him and we both burst intoughter.


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°I do so enjoy talking about sports.¡±


    ¡ª


    Up close, Minnova was even more impressive than it had been from far away. The city walls rose up nearly twenty meters. They were made of smooth stone, and I couldn¡¯t see a single seam. The outside of the city was a t ne with dozens of tents and wagons set up, but no permanent structures. There were cooking fires and a massive milieu of grubby looking people. There were a few children here and there, but it mostly looked like adventurers and vagrants. I actually saw a couple of humans among them.


    A gnomess bard stood on a makeshift stage made of wooden pallets in the middle of a ring of wagons. Her instrument was some kind of mix between a lute and a guitar, which until I am told otherwise is now called a glute. She was singing something that reminded me deeply of ¡°Sweet Home bama¡± and I lost myself for a while.


    ¡°Gimbletack, who are all those people?¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°They are upstanding adventurers and nomads whock either the coin or the desire to enter the city.¡±


    I broke out of my reverie. ¡°It costs money to enter the city!?¡±


    Gimbletack hauled on the reins. [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°I am not overly concerned about your mary situation but you had better be able to pay me.¡±


    We paid Gimbletack, who spat and trundled off, then stood in line to enter the city. There were two main lines, one for pedestrians and another for merchants. Gimbletack had moved into the merchant line, which was moving rather more quickly than our own.


    I looked back at the way we¡¯de. The mining camp was so distant that it couldn¡¯t be seen. Here in the center of the cavern, the ground slowly sloped upwards far off into the distance. It was like being in the middle of an enormous lumpy bowl.


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine a road this well maintained simply goes to the mining camps. We must have traveled over fifty kilometers and there wasn''t a single pothole.¡±


    ¡°Tha highways connect tha cities of Crack to tha capital so they need ta be in good shape. This one connects to tha city of Gungu.¡±


    We made small talk with the dwarves next to us as the line moved towards the gate. The general sentiment was worry about the state of the dungeon, and excitement about the uing decamillennial celebration. A couple of guards checked every traveler and cart as it came into the city, but the line still moved fairly briskly. At one point, there was some yelling from the guards and a smallmotion on the merchant side of the line.


    [Tranted from angry toothless Gnome] ¡°My cabbages!¡±


    Soon it was our turn and a severe looking dwarf in te mail frowned as he waved us forward. A sigil of a tree under a mountain marked him as part of the Minnovan city guard. His namete read: ¡®Hammer¡¯. Some faintly rotting cabbages were strewn around the front of the gate, and a rather tired looking dwarf in overalls was sweeping them up.


    ¡°Names and identification please.¡±


    ¡°Pete Samson, and Balin Roughtuff, Guard Hammer.¡± Balin handed over the paperwork that Grim had given us. The guard perused the documents, his brow furrowed.


    ¡°Yer from Minnova Prison Mine? Don¡¯t n on causin¡¯ any trouble I hope.¡±


    ¡°No sir.¡±


    ¡°You got somece to stay?¡±


    ¡°Aye, a friend has some jobs lined up for us.¡±


    ¡°Which friend?¡±


    ¡°A-Annie Goldstone.¡±


    I watched the byy for a while as Balin got more and more flustered; he really didn''t do well with authority figures. After Balin started describing his marital ns in detail I decided to cut in. ¡°Guard Captain Morris said we should give our regards.¡± The guard captain had indeed said that before he left. Apparently he¡¯d really liked the way we¡¯d sacrificed ourselves for others, and he¡¯d <i>especially</i> liked Balin. He¡¯d been making noises about Balin joining the city guard, but Balin had his heart set on the brewery.


    Hammer¡¯s entire demeanor changed instantly. ¡°Oh, ya know tha Captain?¡±


    Balin smiled. ¡°Aye, he saved our lives durin¡¯ a stoneant attack.¡±


    ¡°I heard about that! Wait¡­¡± He thought for a moment and then held up a finger. ¡°Balin! Yer tha [Knight] that tha boys were talkin¡¯ about!¡±


    Balin flushed a bit. ¡°I dunno about that¡­¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°No need ta be so humble!¡± Hammer pped Balin on the back. ¡°I hear ya took down a soldier stoneant tha size of a giant mushfolk in a single swing!¡± Balin turned even more red as a crowd began to gather behind as curious dwarves listened in. Hammer waved his arms expansively. ¡°Gained yer Specialization in tha middle of a fight, got a rare Milestone, and then beat back a whole horde by yerself!¡±


    There were some oohs and aahs from the crowd while Balin squirmed. I enjoyed watching it. Balin was a great guy, and he deserved some recognition. Plus, this could be good advertising!


    ¡°Aye, he was a knight in shinin¡¯ armor!¡± I dered.


    ¡°Pete, shut it!¡± Balin hissed, but it was toote. The crowd began to chant for him to show off the Milestone until he was left with little choice.


    ¡°[Shining Armor]!¡± There was some cheering, followed by some angry yelling from the line we were holding up. Hammer dispersed the crowd and then turned back to us.


    ¡°Yer good to go. Enjoy yer time in Minnova!¡±


    Balin turned off his armor, and glowered at me. I shrugged my shoulders in mock innocence as we walked through the massive gates into the grand city of Minnova.


    It was like walking into a fantasy vige from the middle ages. Back home, one of my favorite ces to vacation was the Austrian city of Salzburg. Salzburg had wide foot-passenger only streets lined with quaint old buildings and metal signs that hung over the sidewalk and announced the business or address. They also had the most amazing beer halls and pubs.


    Minnova was just like that, except short. Nearly every building was only a single story. A lot of them were nearlypletely open air. I saw an open air beer garden, where a full blown party was in swingplete with a band and dancing. Passersby were pulled into the festivities. A sign outside said ¡°The Awful Floffle¡±. The street we were walking on was wide and covered in t cobblestones. A drunk pottered out of the bar and threw up into an odd ditch on the side of the road. I realized with a start that it was a rudimentary sewer and storm drain system.


    Overall, the city was a mix of old europe and pure fantasy. Where did everyone <i>live</i> though? There was no way this city had enough housing for all the people I could see. There were a handful of taller buildings, but they seemed to be very wealthy houses, or important locations like churches or clock towers.


    Then I saw a party of dwarves open the door to a nearby house and immediately walk down some stairs. Of course! They were dwarves, the city was mostly built underground!


    Balin took out a piece of paper and read it over. ¡°Annie¡¯s in tha western quarter. We¡¯ll need ta go to tha main square and then turn left.¡±


    ¡°Lead the way Balin!¡±


    ¡°Alright, follow me!¡±


    ¡°Oooooh, let¡¯s go in here!¡±


    ¡°Gods dammit, Pete!¡±


    ---


    Somewhere else.


    In a dark space there stood a white stone gazebo and mist rose from several incense bowls surrounding it. A ck mountain rose up in the darkness, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    ¡°Dark days approach, and none shall be able to stand them.¡± Said the first figure.


    ¡°Woe are we, to be here at the end of days.¡± Said another.


    ¡°Truly, these events shall lead to the death of our world.¡± Said a third.


    Another spoke up, their voice light and melodious. ¡°All know of the dwarf king¡¯spetition. I was disturbed to see it, and more disturbed by the sudden interest.¡±


    ¡°We shall be there to stand against it. Our children shall be the bulwark against this abomination the king has wrought.¡±


    ¡°What word is there of the young upstart? Has she been suitably chastised?¡± The first turned to look at a silent brooding figure, the tallest of them all.


    ¡°She¡­ ¡®as not truly recovered.¡± The tall figure ground out, their respectful tone belying an undercurrent of shame and anger.


    ¡°Hmph, it was the will of the ancestors that the explosion urred.¡± The first figure bowed his head and sped his hands. ¡°We are but their instrument.¡±


    The refrain was repeated by all assembled.


    ¡°THE WILL OF THE ANCESTORS.¡±


    ¡°At least there are some that stand against the darkness, like that chap Whistlemop!¡± The second figure piped up.


    ¡°Indeed! His wares are how the future should be approached! An innovation that brings forth the colour of the brew and its essence, but does not intrude upon what makes it the True Brew.¡± The first figure nodded sagely as he regarded the assembly. ¡°Are there any others that bring forth a concern to the Honourable Guild of Brewers?¡±


    ¡°Ma boys caught a beer smuggler.¡± One figure put in, the sneer evident in their gravely voice.


    ¡°Excellent, were they properly dealt with?¡±


    ¡°As we always ¡®ave. They won¡¯t be a problem again.¡±


    ¡°Very good.¡±


    Another figure put up a hand and said in a cultured ent, ¡°The cost of Erdroot has gone up by an uneptable amount.¡±


    ¡°Yes, people are panic buying in preparation for a dungeon break. We will do what we can to manipte the market.¡± The first figure said, with more confidence than they likely felt. There was a lengthy pause before he spoke again. ¡°Anyone else?¡±


    ¡°Are we done yet?¡± A figure that had been gently snoring up until this point, asked in a quavering tone. ¡°Did your wife pack the treacle tarts, Browning?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, dear Shalea¡¯s tarts are always the highlight of these meetings.¡± Another heretofore silent figure put in. There was a general murmur of agreement.


    ¡°Can we get some lights on in ¡®ere?¡±


    ¡°Midna¡¯s mullet, these theatrics are bloody daft, Browning.¡±


    ¡°How did you deal with that smuggler, Drum?¡±


    ¡°Gave ¡®is address to City Hall, heh heh.¡±


    ¡°Hah! He¡¯ll be payin¡¯ taxes fer decades!¡±


    A dimmp was lit in the center of the table, as the first figure pulled back his hood, revealing a grey-bearded and balding dwarf. He sighed the deep sigh of a long suffering friend that has put up with your shit for far too long. ¡°Yes, I have the tarts, Malt. She packed them especially for you.¡±


    Browning put a doily wrapped box on the table and the grumble pulled back their hoods to reveal a collection of ageing dwarves and dwarvesses. One of them pulled aside the wall hanging of a ck mountain and opened up a secret door. Bright light streamed in to a bevy of curses and shouts as he called up the stairs, ¡°Bring us a round of drinks, the meeting is breaking up!¡±


    ¡°Aye sir, Master Brewer!¡± A young voice called back down, and the door was closed again to general relief.


    ¡°Fine, I guess we¡¯re done for the night.¡± Browning moaned, and massaged his temples. ¡°To close, in the matter of Annie Goldstone, the engineering report is avable at Pewtership & Pewtership.¡±


    ¡°So it was an engineering failure?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no. Young Annie was so sure of her work that when she had the vatsmissioned, she did not get them looked at by an [Engineer]. She was worried about espionage.¡± Browning frowned, ¡°A foolish consideration. Who among us would dare to change the brewing techniques of our ancestors?¡±


    ¡°Did you know, I heard she put lemonade in her beer when she first got back?¡± Malt whispered.


    ¡°Ugh, foul. Truly?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but she ¡®asn¡¯t since.¡±


    The grumble nodded their general agreement around mouthfuls of tart. It was a shame what had happened to her, but hopefully with that young firebrand cooling off, the next few centuries would be just as quiet as thest.

 Chapter 41: Rough and Tuff

    <h4>Chapter 41: Rough and Tuff</h4>


    I sipped on my coffee and sighed. Then I took a deep sniff of the roasted scent of beans and cream and sighed again.


    The rich aroma reminded me of a dark roast, while the thick texture and vour was closer to a cappino. I swished the dark liquid around in my mouth and savoured the mouthfeel of the tannins. It burned slightly going down the back of my throat, but it was a good burn. A good cup of coffee can ignite the tastebuds and invigorate the mind, and this was a damn good cup of coffee. I''d asked for atte, but the barista didn''t known what that meant; I was drinking the ''house special'' instead.


    ¡°Dunno how ya can stand that.¡± Balin muttered. He was drinking some ale from a repurposed teacup, and I think I saw the barista shudder every time he took a sip. A passing waiter gave Balin a sharp look, before he sniffed loudly and started cleaning a table.


    ¡°Well, Balin, we need to take a moment.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t we do it at Annie¡¯s? Why¡¯d you choose this ce?¡± He waved his hand, gesturing at the inside of the gnomish caf¨¦.


    ¡°We should make a battle n before we go see your future father-inw, Balin.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I didn¡¯t think of that.¡±


    ¡°Of course not, that¡¯s your best dwarf¡¯s job! Your job is to be hopelessly and foolishly in love. Also, I didn¡¯t choose toe here, I just followed my nose.¡± I finished off my cup of coffee and gave thanks to Tiara that coffee existed here. ¡°This is the life.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not bad. Better¡¯n a mine.¡±


    ¡°Really? I figured it wasn¡¯t your¡­ cup of tea.¡± I pointed at the slightly foamy tea cup.


    ¡°Harr harr.¡± Balin took another sip. ¡°A fire an¡¯ afy chair beat a hard bench and cold stone.¡±


    While I had been following Balin, agog, the scent of coffee and pastries had overwhelmed my every sense, grabbed hold of my appetite, and seduced me across the street into a quaint little Gnomish caf¨¦ called ¡®Joejam Cuppa¡¯. We¡¯d bought our drinks, slumped down into a pair of plush leather recliners, and rxed after our long journey. We¡¯d also taken the opportunity to use their washroom and change our clothes. Grim had let us keep the fancy suits, and Doc Opal had fixed all the tears and cuts as a going away present. A small wash up in the sink and we were a pair of fiiine lookin¡¯ dwarves.


    That¡¯s right, a sink, with running water. And a toilet; a flushing, porcin throne. With a bidet. I sat upon it and was for a brief moment the king of all I surveyed. It was Glory. I forgave all the Gods for every slight and every wrong that had been done to me since I arrived on Erd. Indeed, I had sold my soul for running water and a flushing toilet and would do it again in a heartbeat.


    ¡°One sec while I refill this.¡± A couple other gnomes hade and gone, and I didn¡¯t want to overstay our wee. Besides, one cup wasn¡¯t enough.


    I made my way up to the front, got a fresh cup of chocte gold and sat back down. ¡°Alright Balin, Iet¡¯s talk about what we¡¯re going to do at Annie¡¯s.¡±


    Balin looked up from where he was nose deep in a tart.


    ¡°Mrmph?¡±


    ¡°You wanted to introduce yourself to Annie¡¯s father as a carpenter, right?¡±


    ¡°Mrhmhm.¡± He nodded, his mouth still full of pastry.


    ¡°Do you¡­ still want to do that now that you¡¯re a [Knight]? I¡¯m absolutely not the dwarf to deny a fellow dwarf¡¯s dreams, but has your new Title changed anything?¡±


    Balin thought for a while and turned his head from side to side while he chewed. He swallowed and licked his lips before he answered.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not sure Pete. I still want to, but I dunno if it¡¯s tha best I could do fer Annie.¡±


    ¡°Captain Morris did say that you were gifted at fighting. I¡­ don¡¯t know enough about Dwarven society to tell if that¡¯s more or less appealing to a future father-inw than a carpenter.¡±


    Balin clicked his tongue a few times. ¡°Well¡­ carpentry is often a business fer tha whole family line. It makes good money. Sons learn from their fathers, and daughters from their mothers, and tha whole family earns silver cuttin¡¯, shapin¡¯, and installin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°That sounds a lot like my world too. Families are even given thest name ¡®carpenter¡¯. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s respectable?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it is. At tha other end o¡¯ tha beard, bin¡¯ an adventurer or a famous warrior <i>makes</i> that family line in tha¡¯ first ce.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ adventuring is more prestigious and valuable. Assuming you don¡¯t die.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s tha hard part.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t die Balin.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try fer yer sake Pete.¡±


    We clicked our cups in a mock toast.


    ¡°I¡¯m your best dwarf Balin, but I don¡¯t think I want to say anythin¡¯ that may push you one way or the other. My advice? Ask Annie before you make any serious decisions. She¡¯s the one who will suffer the most if somethin¡¯ happens to you in the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Aye¡­¡± Balin¡¯s brow furrowed.


    ¡°Can¡¯t hurt to introduce yourself as a titled [Knight] though. I could be your squire!¡±


    Balin held his nose up, imperiously. ¡°Fetch me mah arms squire.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t milord! They¡¯re already attached to yer torso!¡± We both chuckled a bit.


    ¡°What about you Pete? Now that I know yer¡­ you know, I understand why ya knew all those weird foods and drinks. What are yer ns?¡±


    ¡°That depends¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°I had this grand dream of sweeping in and making massive changes to the brewery, but there¡¯s no way that¡¯s gonna fly. I¡¯ve learned my lesson on that. I think I¡¯m just going to introduce myself as a hard worker, and do what I can to earn some trust.¡±


    Balin snorted. ¡°Addin¡¯ lemons ta beer is one thing Pete, dunno if you have that much to teach a real brewer.¡±


    I held up one hand with all my fingers showing and quirked an eyebrow. Balin looked at it quizzically. ¡°Wha¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°The number of different brews I¡¯ve made.¡±


    ¡°Five brews? Tha¡¯s pretty impressive Pete. We only really have tha two, so that might be worth something. There might be a bit o¡¯ grumblin,¡¯ but if they¡¯re good brews, it could be worth gold.¡± Balin sipped his beer thoughtfully.


    ¡°Not five. Five <i>hundred.</i>¡±


    Balin spat his beer all over my face.


    ¡°<i>Five hundred brews?!¡± </i>He passed me a napkin while he goggled at me. I wiped my face clean then nced down at my shirt with trepidation. Thankfully, my beard had kept the suit safe. It would have been awful to show up at the brewery in beer stained clothes.


    ¡°Yes. Give or take.¡±


    ¡°Pete¡­ what in tha Nether were ya?¡± Balin¡¯s eyes grew even wider in his awestruck face.


    ¡°I was a master brewer. Famed throughout thend.¡± Well, that was a <i>bit</i> of hyperbole, but it wasn¡¯tpletely untrue.


    ¡°By tha firmament, yer not jokin¡¯...¡± He whispered.


    ¡°No, quite serious. Alcohol was my life.¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t ya human? How long did humans live on yer world?¡±


    ¡°Same as here.¡±


    ¡°How did ya make so many brews then?!¡±


    ¡°I just¡­ tried everything.¡± I began counting down my fingers. ¡°Stouts, pilsners,gers, ambers, coffee ales, amber ales, IPAs, goses. That doesn¡¯t even take into consideration the nearly infinite number of adjuncts that can be added to the wort.¡± I nced up at Balin, whose chin was about to hit the floor. ¡°You should close yer mouth Balin, you look like a beardfish.¡±


    He closed it with a *ck* and leaned over the table. ¡°Pete, ya can¡¯t just waltz into Annie¡¯s brewery and say ¡®I know more beer recipes than there are master brewers in all o¡¯ Crack!¡±


    I paused for a moment, arrested. ¡°Wow, that few?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a closely guarded family business. Most o¡¯ tha brewing families have been around fer thousands o¡¯ years!¡±


    ¡°I mean, I knew that, but I didn¡¯t realize it meant there were barely any brewers.¡± I waved my hand dismissively, pushing the discussion aside. ¡°Well I realized I couldn¡¯t just waltz into the brewery, which is why I stopped here to discuss this before I suffered an ¡®axe-iddent¡¯.¡±


    ¡°This is serious Pete. Yer a walkin¡¯ fireball waitin¡¯ ta go off!¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I sighed, ¡°between the Radler, the ginger beer, and everything with Tim, I¡¯m not going to make waves if I can avoid it. I think I still have the potential to make Annie a <i>lot</i> of money, even with small changes to start.¡±


    Balin sat back in his seat and took a deep breath. ¡°Ar''right. You¡¯ve put some thought in, I can see that. Now, how do we introduce ourselves?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking¡­ as kin?¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re okay with it. I¡­ don¡¯t really have any attachment to my family name.¡± I felt myself flush a bit and hid it behind a fake cough.


    ¡°If you want ta be a Roughtuff, Pete¡­ I¡¯d be happy to have ya. No, my ancestors would be proud ta have you.¡± Balin teared up a bit, and we shared a handsp over the table.


    ¡°Peter Roughtuff,¡± I mused, ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound too bad.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll need ta get it recorded at city hall.¡± Balin grinned.


    ¡°We can do that eventually, first let me tell you about some of my ideas for the future prosperity of the Roughtuff n.¡±


    ¡°Nothin¡¯ too grand to start, right?¡±


    ¡°Nope! I want to start with bubbles!¡±


    ¡°Bubbles?¡± Balin asked, quizzically.


    ¡°It¡¯s something that Annie was already working on. There¡¯s barely any carbon dioxide in the local brews. The beer in the mine barely had any.¡±


    ¡°Ah. I did notice that tha beer in tha mine had less bubbly than usual.¡±


    ¡°There probably isn¡¯t that much in the first ce. There¡¯s a lot of reasons for that, and I¡¯m pretty sure I can guess some of them based on Annie¡¯s unfortunate ident.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    I nced around to make sure we weren¡¯t being overheard. The building was a bit busier now, and the staff were studiously trying to stay away from our table. I leaned in and lowered my voice anyway. ¡°Yeah, I know some of the history of beer, and dwarven beer seems to be quite simr to my world¡¯s original method.¡±


    ¡°How can ya tell?¡±


    ¡°The vour, the body, the carbonation, and some of the stuff Annie said. I¡¯ll tell you one thing, when we get to her brewery, I can almost guarantee there will be a bunch of giant open vats that they use for primary fermentation.¡±


    ¡°Words, Pete, make this easier for me. What¡¯s tha problem?¡±


    ¡°The old methods for beer result in a mostly t beer. It¡¯s why everyone was so amazed by my pilsner ss. The narrow shape let what little carbonation there was create a head, which isn¡¯t usually visible.¡± I missed that ss. Grim had never given it back. Apparently they¡¯d decided it was not worth any more fighting in the camp. I needed to go get another one here in town.


    ¡°How are ya¡¯ goin¡¯ to fix it?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a few methods. Annie had the right idea for one of them.¡±


    Balin smiled brightly. ¡°She is a smart one!¡±


    ¡°That she is, but there are a dozen errors she could have made. I had to custom design lots of fermentation vessels, so I can help her make it work.¡±


    Balin whistled. ¡°She may not be allowed to.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but it¡¯s something that I can do that is more <i>Annie</i> than <i>me.</i>¡± I tapped my finger on the side of my nose.


    ¡°I see. You¡¯d be usin¡¯ yer knowledge, but everyone would think it was Annie.¡± Balin nodded his head. ¡°Smart.¡±


    ¡°Right? If that seeds, I can get Annie to put in a good word with her dad.¡±


    ¡°After that?¡±


    ¡°I want to improve the rity of the beer.¡± I pointed into Balin¡¯s cup. ¡°Do you see the stuff left on the bottom of the cup?¡±


    Balin peered into the cup. ¡°Aye, that¡¯s tha body o¡¯ tha beer. It adds some chew to it.¡±


    I shuddered. ¡°That¡¯s not supposed to be there, and can make the beer far more sour than it needs to be. It should really be filtered after fermentation or dealt with before it gets into the wort. That¡¯s a small change that can massively improve the body of the beer without affecting the vour too much.¡±


    Balin tapped his fingers on the table as he thought about it. I finished off thest of my coffee as he did so. It was no Tim Hortons, but it would do; Joejam had a loyal new customer. Oh caffeine, how I missed you.


    ¡°I think that might work Pete.¡±


    ¡°I put a lot of thought into it. I¡¯ve got a few other ideas, but they can wait. I¡¯ll need Annie¡¯s dad to trust me first.¡± I sighed,menting that I couldn¡¯t simply grab the reins of power.


    ¡°What are some of those ideas?¡± Balin asked, as he chewed on the crud at the bottom of his cup.


    I shuddered again. Ew. ¡°Well, branding would be a good start.¡±


    ¡°Branding? Like goats?¡±


    ¡°Same idea. I noticed that there¡¯s a maker¡¯s mark on most of the beer casks, but nothing that really said ¡®THIS BEER WAS MADE BY THE GOLDSTONES¡¯.¡±


    ¡°What would that do?¡±


    ¡°A few things, but most importantly, it would help me bring something to this world. Something I didn¡¯t notice in the streets while we were walking here. Something more dreadful than even boomdust.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Balin leaned in, his voice quivering in trepidation.


    ¡°<i>ADVERTISING.¡±</i>

 Chapter 42: Thirsty Goat Brewing

    <h4>Chapter 42: Thirsty Goat Brewing</h4>


    ¡°Is this it?¡±


    ¡°I think it is, Pete.¡±


    ¡°There could be multiple ces in Minnova called ¡®Thirsty Goat Brewing¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s unlikely.¡±


    ¡°Minnova¡¯s a big ce.¡±


    ¡°Not that big.¡±


    ¡°But it <i>could </i>be possible.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but this is probably it.¡±


    ¡°I could go in incognito and scope it out, make sure it¡¯s the right ce.¡±


    ¡°Annie would spot ya right away.¡±


    ¡°I could wear a disguise?¡±


    ¡°You got anythin¡¯ to use fer one?¡±


    ¡°I could go buy one, we still have¡­. over a hundred silver.¡±


    ¡°Seems a waste of money.¡±


    ¡°But a little info on your future family <i>before </i>you meet them. Could be useful!¡±


    Balin sighed. Honestly, if it wasn¡¯t for Balin¡¯s intense desire to see Annie, it would have taken us all day to get here. Minnova was an amazing town from the perspective of a non-native, and I could have window shopped and toured the attractions for hours.


    During our short trip through the city centre, I¡¯d seen magic devices, armour and weapon shops, street performers, strange nts, strange animals, strange food, strange people, and more. It was like watching a fantasy movie from my childhood with all my childhood wonder left intact. City hall, at the dead center of the city, had been a massive, multi-storey building with intricate carvings and a gigantic clock face on the front. There looked to be some kind of mechanism as well, but I¡¯d barely looked at it for a moment before Balin had grabbed my ear and pulled me down a side alley.


    Now we were standing just across the street from Annie¡¯s brewery on a busy side street. Minnova¡¯s roads were very easy to navigate; Annie¡¯s brewery was on 4th Street South-West, just off of Main Street West. The numbers counted down to the main street, and every city block was nearly exactly square. It was horrifically well organized, and anyone from the Okanagan would have found it to be overbearingly OCD. All of the streets in Canada were named after famous people, so you just had to go down McCurdy, turn on Craig and then you¡¯d find Webster Street. Except of course, Craig Street actually turned into Hemlock Street at Hartman¡­ Alright, maybe numbered streets were more practical. Still, where was your sense of adventure Minnova?


    The brewery was a tall single-storey red-brick building that took up nearly half the block. The walls were weathered with age, though one side of the building was clearly new. A wooden sign over the door said ¡®Thirsty Goat Brewing¡¯, with a drawing of a goat with its face buried in a tankard. There were several shuttered windows, and a single step up to an ornate wooden door.


    This street seemed to be a random collection of shops and businesses. To the left of the brewery was a general store called ¡®Knicknack¡¯s¡¯. It had arge picture window, and I could see various tools and hardware inside. A few dwarves and gnomes filtered in and out of the store, carrying everything from fishing poles to buckets. To the right of the brewery was a rather in stone building with no signs or even obvious habitation.


    ¡°Pete, I¡¯m going in.¡± Balin said, his voice firm with conviction.


    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s do this.¡± I nodded and the two of us walked up the front step together.


    ¡°Wait, Pete. I changed my mind.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± I gently dwarfhandled Balin through the door.


    ¡ª


    The inside of the brewery was a rather standard front foyer for any shop. The room was well furnished with wooden walls and eaves and plush green carpet. A counter stood to one side, with a line of casks on the wall behind it. The rest of the walls were lined with various pieces of brewing paraphernalia. Some fairly standard magic solstonemps gave a bright, cheery yellow glow to everything. The feeling was kind of like a pub, and I think that was on purpose. I didn¡¯t see any actual ce to sit and drink, but perhaps one of the side doors had a tasting room.


    The brewing equipment littered around the room was quite close to what I expected. There were several giant wooden rakes for stirring mash, some kegs, a fewdles, and a big barrel that was clearly a mash tun for stirring hot mash. Several awards were stered here and there, though most of them were from a few hundred or thousand years ago. A line of portraits ran along one wall, which ended with a painting of Annie and a rather severe looking blonde dwarf who I realized must be her father. I was about to go get a closer look when a voice called out to us.


    ¡°Wee to Thirsty Goat Brewing, nice to meet you!¡± The bright cheery voice brought our attention to a dwarfess standing behind the counter. ¡°I¡¯m Aqua, how can I help you?¡±


    I did a double take. This was the first dwarf I had seen that wasn¡¯t in some kind of armour. She was wearing what appeared to be an actual white sundress! No, wait, she was also wearing silver armguards inset with bright ruby roses. Her blue-coloured pigtailed beard framed a cute feminine face, and her hair was up in a ponytail with a dainty circlet in front.


    I strode forward confidently and held out my hand. ¡°Hello! I¡¯m Peter Roughtuff, and this is my brother, Balin Roughtuff. We¡¯re friends of Annie¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Oh! <i>The</i> Balin and Pete?¡± She shook my hand vigorously, and I took an unconscious step backwards as her businesslike smile turned practically feral. I recognized that smile from my wife¡¯s friends¡­ ¡°Wee to the brewery! I was told you¡¯d be around some time this week.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we sent a letter to Annie letting her know we¡¯d be, uh, out of the mine.¡±


    ¡°Well, congrattions on that! Annie¡¯s been waiting with bated breath for your arrival,¡± Her smile got even wider, ¡°and the boss has been waiting with even more anticipation than her!¡±


    Balin gulped and I trod gently on his foot. Don¡¯t go fainting on me Balin, keep it together!


    ¡°Yes, Balin and I have been looking forward toin¡¯ here ever since Annie mentioned the ce.¡±


    ¡°Annie seemed to think you¡¯d be out a bit sooner? She managed to get out of the mining camp quite quickly after all!¡± Aqua looked us up and down, and I could feel the unsaid question: ¡®what took you so long?¡¯.


    ¡°We had someplications.¡± I shrugged. ¡°What matters is that we made it out, and made some good connections too.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll need to tell us all about it!¡± Aqua pointed towards a door behind the counter. ¡°I¡¯d invite you into the brewery, but Annie and the boss are working on a brew right now.¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, can we watch?¡± I asked. I was really interested in seeing the actual brewing process andparing it to what I knew about ancient brewing.


    The first beers on earth were actually made by the Chinese nearly ten thousand years ago, using rice as a malt with honey and flowers for sweetener. The Mesopotamians are usually credited with the first western style beer, and we actually have archeological evidence of their brewing process from 4000 BC. The Mesopotamians used barley to make their beers, as well as a type of barley bread called bappir. Their brewing process was quite close to how beer was made all the way up into the 1800s, and I was itching topare it to the dwarven method. Although, of course¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t let you onto the brew room floor.¡± Aqua shook her head sadly. ¡°You may be friends of Annie¡¯s, but the brewing process is a secret held within the Goldstone family.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I¡¯d expected as much, actually. ¡°How did you get involved with the brewery? You don¡¯t appear to be a Goldstone.¡± I pointed to the paintings on the wall. Aqua turned to look at them and shook her head.


    ¡°Oh, nonono.¡± Sheughed, a merry tinkling sound. ¡°I¡¯m no Goldstone, though my father¡¯s family has worked in the brewery for two generations now. He¡¯s Mr. Goldstone¡¯s right hand dwarf. I¡¯m just the clerk, but I do know the whole process. I have to, since I order all our supplies.¡±


    ¡°Are there a lot of dwarves working here right now?¡±


    ¡°Well, the Goldstone family is much reduced ofte. There¡¯s Mr. Goldstone and his cousin John, as well as Annie and John¡¯s son Johnsson.¡± She started to count on her fingers and I held out a hand, stopping her before she could continue.


    ¡°Sorry, say that again? Did you say Johnson Johnson?¡±


    ¡°John¡¯s son is named Johnson, yes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I tried to keep my face from breaking into a grin.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not that bad. I have a friend named Potter Pottersdotter.¡±


    I choked. ¡°Am I allowed tough at that?¡±


    ¡°Oh please do, she hates it.¡± We snickered, and even Balin let out a strained chuckle.


    ¡°Anyone else, or is it just you, your father, and the Goldstones?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s also Richter. He¡¯s kind of new. He¡¯s from down south. His family immigrated to Minnova recently, and his father actually saved Mr. Goldstone¡¯s life. He¡¯s been working in the brewery since he was ad.¡±


    ¡°Define¡­ <i>recently</i>.¡± I was a bit suspicious of that word when it came from the mouth of a dwarf.


    ¡°About two hundred years, give or take.¡± Yep, there it was.


    I think I had Aqua¡¯s number at this point. She was probably thepany gossip, and the most sociable to boot, so if I wanted my advertising n to go to n, she was the best ce to start. She struck me as the kind of dwarf that would talk for hours if you got her started.


    ¡°Thanks for telling us all this Aqua,¡± I gave her the best smile I could muster with my middling charisma, ¡°we¡¯re hoping that we can fit in here, especially Balin.¡± I gave her a wink and she tittered.


    ¡°Oh, Annie has been pining, so I think the boss won¡¯t have any choice in the matter!¡±


    ¡°Hah! Yes, I remember when my¡­ friend¡¯s daughter was like that. It was impossible to tell her no!¡± We bothughed at Balin¡¯s expense, and he turned around to study the paintings on the wall. That didn¡¯t stop us from spotting his red cheeks and weughed a little harder. Eventually though, Aqua turned her attention to me.


    ¡°What about you, Peter? Are you going to ask the boss to hire you too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I hope so. I¡¯m actually a titled [Alchemist], and I almost have my first specialization.¡±


    ¡°Really?! Annie didn¡¯t mention that!¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I earned it by tinkering with powders, but my real love is brewing.¡±


    Aqua chewed her lip. ¡°The boss could use another hand helping out with brewing. Annie helps a lot, but it¡¯s hard with just the two of them.¡± She bobbed her head slightly and continued. ¡°My dad is a hard worker, and he¡¯s got Tiara¡¯s blessing, but he doesn¡¯t have any milestones to help with brewing.¡±


    ¡°Well, if Mr. Goldstone needs a hard worker, Balin over there is the hero of the City of Minnova mine! He¡¯s a titled [Knight] and he saved a dozen dwarves from a stoneant attack.¡±


    ¡°<i>What</i>!?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, indeed! He¡¯s even got shining armor! I told him to sweep Annie off her feet, but he¡¯s too shy.¡± I whispered thest in a faux sotto-voce.


    Aqua leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes sparkling. ¡°Goodness, I¡¯d pay gold to see that!¡±


    ¡°Yer gonna pay fer thister, Pete.¡± Balin groaned.


    I studiously ignored him. ¡°It¡¯s alright. We have quite a lot of golding in from our project.¡± Eventually, but she didn¡¯t need to know that.


    ¡°Annie mentioned that, can you talk about it?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps over a drink¡­¡± I said, waggling my eyebrows.


    ¡°Of course! I can¡¯t take you into the brewery itself, but you cane into the tasting room and have a drink. We use it as a mess hall.¡± She led us to another side door and opened it, motioning us inside. The inside of the room had a few pic style tables and a giant mural of a drunk goat on one wall.


    I nced up at the cock-eyed caprid. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been wondering why this ce is called the Thirsty Goat¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s because of Penelope-the-Ten-Thousand-and-Fourth.¡±


    ¡°Penelope-The-What?¡±


    ¡°Over there. Come say hello, Penelope!¡±


    That was precisely the moment that a waist high, pure white unigoat rammed me in the gut.


    "Ooooh..." Aqua hissed. "Sorry, that''s just how she says hello."


    "Maaaaah!!!"


    [Tranted from prima donna goat] "Prithy who art thou, trespasser?!"


    All I could do was groan back.

 Chapter 43: Meet the Goldstones

    <h4>Chapter 43: Meet the Goldstones</h4>


    It was a beautiful day.


    The birds were singing.


    There are no birds here.


    The sky was blue.


    There is no sky.


    The grass was green.


    The groundcover is mostly brown scrub.


    I had a beautiful woman by my side.


    ¡°Aaron¡¯s Arse! Penelope stop trying to eat my pants!¡±


    I shooed away the touchy feely goat and continued doing what I was apparently cursed by the gods to spend my eternity doing.


    Shoveling goat shit.


    I hummed a little ¡°Highway to Hell¡± as I dodged a headbutt to my crotch, I was getting good at that, and started up the hose. Penelope made a graceful pirouette over the water as I aimed at her.


    ¡°Maaaah!¡±


    [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°You missed me, peasant.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that Penelope? You want me to give you a bath? I could add some flowers to the water, maybe some¡­¡± I ced a thumb over the hose, spraying it out in a wide arc, ¡°VIOLENTS!¡± The water doused the pure white goat as she bleated in horror. She shook herself off and then pawed the ground.


    [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°Insolence! I shall have you beheaded, varlet! ¡± She lowered her head and charged.


    I think I saw Annie walk by shaking her head, but I didn¡¯t care, I had to show this stuck up she-goat who the real boss was around here. I rushed forward and met Penelope¡¯s charge head on. We met with a *bang* in the centre of the little goat pen in the back of the brewery. Did you know dwarves have hard heads, especially when they¡¯re wearing a helmet? Penelope didn¡¯t. Her single curled horn bounced off of my skullcap and she reeled backwards.


    [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°Treachery! You are a gifted jouster!¡± She stumbled back and stared at me unsteadily.


    I decided to seal the deal. I had prepared carefully for this day. A solid week of shoveling shit and taking shit, and I had decided the time hade to put this pampered princess in her ce. I reached behind the fence and pulled out a bag and a tankard.


    ¡°Want to make peace over some goat treats and beer, Penelope?¡±


    Her eyes sparkled as she stared deep into my own. Our souls briefly touched and in that moment, we understood each other. Guy to goat, caprid to cicerone.


    [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°Truly, I was mistaken. I recognize you now as a man of culture!¡±


    ¡°Penelope!¡±


    [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°Peter!¡±


    We met in the centre of the pen. This time in a hug. I pulled her tight, tears in my eyes. She bleated happily and then ate my cravat.


    ¡°Years Yams, are ya romancin¡¯ tha goat Pete?¡±


    ¡°Bugger off, Balin.¡±


    ¡ª


    <i>Eight days prior.</i>


    ¡°Dad, this is Balin and Pete. The two I told you about.¡±


    Aqua had let us hang out in the mess hall until the whole brewery had arrived for dinner. Penelope had been escorted back to her pen while I nursed my injured dignity.


    The dwarf in front of us was clearly Annie¡¯s dad. I¡¯m not just saying that because Annie was standing there calling him Dad. Just like Annie, he had a flowing blonde beard, though he had a small tie at the bottom. His head was shaved clean with a short blonde mohawk and a series of tattoos. He was dressed in fine white linen and practical leathers. If that wasn¡¯t enough he was the tallest dwarf I¡¯d seen and had muscles on top of his muscles. If he flexed, he was liable to take out a window when his shirt exploded.


    I was happy he was even willing to meet us. No father is going to be over the moon when their daughteres home from what was essentially prison and says: ¡°Daddy, I met the nicest man in jail and we¡¯re going to be married and I¡¯m going to have his babies and him and his crazy amnesic buddy are going toe stay at our house!¡±


    Balin and I were going to have to tiptoe carefully for the next few weeks.


    ¡°Nice to meet you Mr. Goldstone.¡± I held out my hand. He looked at it and then took it in his meaty appendage. He squeezed, but it was apanionable grip rather than the expected bone crushing crunch of a future father-inw. I had expected a bit more¡­ vim. I wonder why?


    ¡°So you¡¯re the boys my Annie met in prison?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. We don¡¯t deny it. Balin and I had a rough start to our time here in Minnova, but Annie really helped us turn our lives around. We owe her and the city of Minnova a lot, and we want to show it with the sweat of our brows.¡± I nced at Balin and widened my eyes slightly.


    ¡°Er, aye sir! Ahm Balin.¡± Balin opened a white knuckled fist and held out his hand as he spoke, his voice slightly unsteady. ¡°I¡¯m truly dwarf to meet tha honored Annie talked so much about.¡± I twitched slightly, Goldstone¡¯s gaze softened.


    ¡°She talked about me, did she?¡±


    ¡°Aye sir. She¡¯s right proud of her pap. Told me all kinds of stories about how happy she was havin¡¯ you as a dad while she grew up.¡± Good Balin!


    Goldstone stood a bit straighter and puffed out his chest.


    ¡°Said she was proud ta be a brewer, and I said there was nothin¡¯ I¡¯d like to do more than help her seed at that dream.¡± Balin grew a little more steady as he could see Goldstone appreciated his words. He¡¯d been incredibly worried when we¡¯d hashed out his opening speech together. He thought he¡¯d stumble over it, or that Goldstone wouldn¡¯t appreciate prevarication. I told him that no dad will turn down hearing about how much his daughter gushed about him.


    Balin continued, ¡°She said you were a Dwarf with an honour none could match. She also said no dwarf could match ya fer tha stinkiest breath in Minnova.¡±


    Nooooooo!!!! Off script, Balin! Off script!


    Goldstone stared at Balin and I awaited some kind of reproach, but instead he patted Balin on the shoulder and roared withughter.


    ¡°She always hated how much I love pickled fish!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a fan of it meself!¡±


    ¡°Oh really? What¡¯s yer favourite?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m partial to King¡¯s Kippers.¡±


    ¡°Ha ha! A man of taste!¡±


    I stared incredulously at Aqua who simply shrugged. Annie was holding her face in her hands. This was our first introduction to ¡®The Boss¡¯, Mr. Jeremiah Goldstone.


    ¡ª


    ¡°So ya want to be a brewer do ya?¡± Goldstone held up a mug full of the ¡®Thirsty Goat¡¯s¡¯ finest. Which is to say, not that great.


    ¡°Not me, sir. I wanted to work as abourer and carpenter.¡± Balin toasted and the two of them took a drink. The rest of us clinked our mugs in the middle and sat down at the oversized pic table.


    Goldstone rubbed his beard.


    ¡°That could be useful. Do you think an extra hand would help, John?¡± He turned to regard another pair of dwarves that had joined us in the mess hall. We were all sitting at the various tables, and Aqua had brought in a couple of cans of pickled herring to munch on. Balin and Jeremiah were happily digging in while the rest of us held in our gag reflexes.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting a bit much fer just me, Johnsson, and Richter.¡± John was quite simr in features to Jeremiah, which made sense for cousins. He was a bit less muscley, and his hair was in a braid, but other than that they both really had the viking motif down pat.


    ¡°Aye Boss.¡± Johnsson was the splitting image of his father, though he had gentle blue eyes to his father¡¯s harsh green gaze. ¡°The hours are getting a bit difficult, and with most of the other workers gone, it¡¯s gonna be hard to keep up with the celebration.¡±


    ¡°Ay Agree.¡± A deep bass echoed agreement, and we all turned to regard thest dwarf to join the group. Richter was a giant of a dwarf, and his beard and hair were a massive mop of dreadlocks. His skin was a dark brown, and he spoke with something like a cross between an African and a Spanish ent. ¡°Tha work is too much with just tha tree of us Boss. Ay¡¯ve been tryin¡¯ to do some of tha repairs on tha barrels, but I¡¯m no carpenter.¡±


    Jeremiah¡¯s eyes grew a bit cloudy. As a former businessman, I knew that look. Money troubles, and bad ones. The walls were repaired, and sales were ongoing, but the general feel of this ce was setting off all my small-business-owner rm bells.


    After a moment Jeremiah put forward, ¡°I could ask Tom to help in the Brewery.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bad idea.¡± Annie put in. Jeremiah turned to face her as she continued. ¡°Tom is almost always busy dealing with orders, supplies, and management. If you pull him away from that it will hurt more than help. He¡¯s so busy he doesn¡¯t even have time to eat.¡± She gestured towards an empty spot and everyone nodded.


    ¡°Speaking of which. Did your dad hear anything from Master Oak about the repairs?¡± Jeremiah aimed this question at Aqua, who sat at attention instantly.


    ¡°I did! The price he quoted was far too much. He said ¡®sorry, but with the deca-millenialing up my time is at a premium.¡¯¡±


    All the dwarves around the table except Balin and I groaned. We both looked around in confusion. Annie filled us in.


    ¡°Preparations for deca-millenial celebrations are swamping all the local guilds and craftsmen. Everything is far more expensive than usual, which is a.. problem.¡±


    Balin nodded. ¡°If it¡¯s some simple barrels and work like that, I can do it.¡±


    Jeremiah¡¯s shoulders slumped, though it was hard to tell with his massive delts.


    ¡°That would save our lives, Balin. You¡¯ve arrived just in time, so thank you for that. Wee to the team.¡± He smiled broadly at Balin, who began choking as he inhaled a kipper.


    ¡°Really daddy? Can he stay?¡± Annie¡¯s face beamed with joy. Jeremiah nced at his daughter and patted her on the head.


    ¡°You like him, and that¡¯s enough for me.¡±


    I call bullshit.


    ¡°I call bullshit.¡± John said. ¡°Justst week you were¡­ er.¡± He nced at Balin, slightly apologetically. ¡°Something changed your mind, what was it?¡±


    Jeremiah shrugged. ¡°Captain Morris is a drinking buddy of mine.¡±


    Oh. Ooohhh! A piece clicked into ce.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessin¡¯ you spoke to him recently?¡± I asked, as I leaned slightly across the table.


    ¡°That I did.¡± Jeremiah grinned widely. ¡°He had a lot to say about you two!¡±


    ¡°Wait, what is he talking about?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°Oh dear Gods, can I tell her?¡± Aqua practically squealed.


    ¡°Tell her what?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothin¡¯ really.¡± Balin blushed into his mug.


    ¡°Balin did a thing.¡± I said.


    ¡°A thing?¡± Annie raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°It was a big thing.¡± Jeremiah nodded.


    ¡°Ay think ya can do away with tha suspense, Boss.¡± Richter pointed a finger at Jeremiah.


    ¡°Fine. Spoilsport. Morris says that Balin was instrumental in saving the lives of over a dozen dwarves. He gained a new title in the middle of a crisis, and held off an entire army of stoneants nearly by himself.¡± Jeremiah¡¯s grin took up about half his face. ¡°They¡¯re calling him a ¡®Hero of Minnova¡¯ in the guard house.¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?!¡± Annie roared. The rest of the table, except Aqua, looked on in shock, while I nodded smugly.


    ¡°So yes, I¡¯m fine with him working here. He¡¯s proven his dedication and willingness to do right. You on the other hand¡­¡± Jeremiah turned to look at me, and I gulped, but I sat straight and held my head high.


    ¡°Balin is my brother. You don¡¯t need to feel obligated to hire me on, but I am a titled [Alchemist], and I do have some experience with brewing.¡±


    Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. ¡°Annie says you¡¯ve been suffering from Amnesia.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. I honestly don¡¯t remember a lot about people, ces, or things, but I can remember a lot about brewing. I¡¯d be happy to prove it to you.¡±


    ¡°You understand that our brewing is a family secret. The fact that you have knowledge of brewing makes me trust you <i>less</i> not <i>more</i>.¡± Jeremiah¡¯s gaze turned stormy. It was a storm I¡¯d weathered before. Jeremiah had <i>nothing</i> on the CRA or IRS.


    ¡°I do sir, but I ce my beliefs in people, not titles or memories. Right now Balin and Annie are the two dwarves that are nearest to my heart and I¡¯d do whatever it takes to help them.¡±


    Jeremiah looked deep in my eyes, and I met them unflinchingly. After a moment, he nodded. ¡°Morris told me about that Gnomess you saved. I¡¯ll give you a chance, but it¡¯s a chance you¡¯re going to need to <i>earn</i>.¡±


    ¡ª


    So, now I¡¯m shoveling goat shit again. I wasn¡¯t allowed into the main brewing hall or business discussions until my probation was over, which could take <i>months</i>. It was months I wasn¡¯t willing to spend, so I went and found Balin during my break. Penelope happily capered behind me as I stalked through the mess hall. Balin was carrying a bunch of nks, and whistled while he worked. I was d he fit in so well, and honestly, I really liked everyone here. They were all quite weing, and we got along great, but I was still kind of an outsider. That was something I nned to change.


    ¡°Balin, we need to talk.¡±


    ¡°Hey Pete. I see you¡¯ve made up with Penelope.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, we¡¯re best friends now. Which is why she¡¯ll do this for me. Say hello to Balin, Penelope.¡± I grabbed Balin¡¯s beard and Penelope butted him in the knees, knocking him to the ground. She ¡®maaaahd¡¯ menacingly over him while I sat on his chest to keep him from running off.


    ¡°Ow! What was that for, Pete!?¡±


    ¡°I know you and Annie have been keeping secrets. You¡¯re terrible at it. Spill!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what yer talkin¡¯ about.¡± Balin¡¯s eye¡¯s shifted slightly up to the left and his voice rose an octave.


    ¡°You can¡¯t lie to your brother Balin, you don¡¯t have it in you. I know it¡¯s about the brewery¡¯s finances, now give it!¡± Jeremiah had been spending more and more time in his office with Tom, and I knew that a shipment of bad beer had been returned. Things weren¡¯t looking good, but I wanted to know just how bad.


    ¡°So ya knew.¡± Balin¡¯s eye¡¯s grew sorrowful. ¡°I would have told ya Pete, but Annie asked me not to. The brewery¡¯s got maybe a month left before tha bills are too much.¡± His eyes were full of pain.


    I whistled. ¡°I guessed as much. Don¡¯t worry about it too much, Annie has the right to protect her father¡¯s secrets. What matters is what you and I know but they don¡¯t.¡±


    Balin¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s right! You!¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°Yer from another world. Do ya have any ideas ta save us?¡±


    ¡°I just might!¡± I gave my widest smile and held up a sheet of paper. ¡°We¡¯re going to win a drinking contest.¡±

 Chapter 44: Gamblin’ Dwarf

    <h4>Chapter 44: Gamblin'' Dwarf</h4>


    ¡°You see Balin, the main ways to earn money quickly are stealing, winning the lottery, or gamblin¡¯. We already won the lottery with gunpowder, but all the advance went to our indenture, so we¡¯re left with stealing and gamblin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I think yer gamblin¡¯ here Pete.¡±


    ¡°Naww, I disagree. I have a monstrously high vitality, and dwarven ale doesn¡¯t affect me much. I¡¯m nearly guaranteed to win thispetition, which makes it practically stealing.¡± I grinned at Balin, who simply shook his head.


    ¡°It says here ya needed to sign up a couple o¡¯ days ago.¡±


    He pointed to the slip of paper, which read:


    <strong>Barck¡¯s Bounty Beer Brawl</strong>


    A drinkingpetition sponsored by the Lord of Minnova


    In cooperation with Minnova Casino and the City of Minnova


    The deca-millenial Crack Drinking Competition approaches!


    Who will we send to represent Minnova?


    Compete with Minnova¡¯s best and prove your worth!


    Top three will go on to represent Minnova at the Capital. Thest one standing wins!


    First Prize: 72 Mithril


    Second Prize: 12 Mithril


    Third Prize: 12 Gold


    Inquire at Minnova Casino for more information. All entry forms must bepleted by the 30th.


    No alcohol immunity allowed.


    Currency converted to roughly twelve silver coins to one gold coin, and then twelve gold to one mithril coin. A single silver had roughly the same buying power as a ten dor bill back home. That meant the first prize was over one hundred thousand dors.


    I held up a copy of mypleted entry form for Balin to see. ¡°I signed up a while back. I¡¯ve been thinking about this for a while.¡±


    Balin read over the form. ¡°There¡¯s a fifty silver entry fee!?¡±


    ¡°Yep. I used my own money, so don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Fifty silver could go a surprisingly long way in a medieval society if you were willing to subsist on nothing but erdroot, bread, and beer. I didn¡¯t want to subsist on erdroot, bread, and beer, dammit.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it? Pete, we may need that silver soon!¡±


    ¡°No, we already need it <i>now</i>. You need to spend money to earn money, Balin. Any capitalist could tell you that.¡±


    He sighed and scratched his head. Balin had mellowed a lot over thest week. He¡¯d achieved his short term goal, which was meeting Annie. The next step was to obtain her family¡¯s approval for a courtship. Right now things were too up in the air for that conversation to happen. Speaking of which.


    ¡°Listen Balin, if we earn enough money to save the brewery, think about what that will mean for Mr. Goldstone. We could probably skip right past the ¡®are you a good match for my Annie¡¯ step, and jump straight to ¡®Will you please marry my daughter you marvelous bastard¡¯ step.¡±


    I had a few reasons to be so confident. I had noticed that drinking was social rather thanpetitive; dwarves mostly drank to enjoy the <i>taste</i> and <i>experience </i>of the beer. I¡¯d asked around, and apparently drinkingpetitions just weren¡¯t a thing; chugging was disrespectful to the beer. On the other hand, people back on Earth werepetitive about <i>everything, </i>and beer drinking had been turned into an art. Some of my techniques were unheard of, at least ording to discreet questioning of Aqua.


    I could see Balin waver. ¡°I dunno, Pete. I don¡¯t want it to look like I¡¯m buyin¡¯ her.¡±


    I decided to give it onest push. ¡°Balin, Annie will be <i>crushed</i> if the brewery goes under. She still feels that the current situation is entirely her fault. Tell me you won¡¯t do whatever it takes to help achieve her dreams?¡± I barely kept my voice from oozing schmooze. There was no real need to convince Balin here, it was all my own money, but I wanted him on board. He would be loath to ept a ¡®handout¡¯ from me unless he was involved in the enterprise somehow. Even if it was only moral support.


    Balin nodded a few times. ¡°You know what,¡± His voice grew firm, ¡°yer right, Pete. I was even thinkin¡¯ of goin¡¯ to tha dungeon and earnin¡¯ gold that way. If ya think you can win, we should do it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in?¡±


    ¡°Aye, let¡¯s do it.¡±


    ¡°Good, because I need you to go get every penny you own and bet it on me.¡± Ok, so maybe <i>most</i> of it would be my money.


    ¡°WHAT!?¡±


    ¡ª


    The actualpetition was slightlyter that afternoon, so we first arranged some time off from work, then went and secretly got me some semi-formal clothes. We¡¯d made some polite excuses about ¡®grabbin¡¯ a drink¡¯ to Aqua (which was true) as we left the building. I wanted to look good, but still befortable. I¡¯ve done a lot of drinkingpetitions in my time, and even won some of them too. I knew all the tricks, and one of them was an expanding waistband. You didn¡¯t want to limit yourself with a heavy belt, and dwarven outfits almost always had rigid armor outerments like a heavy leather belt or girdle.


    So I got afortable set of dark brown pants with a simple slip tie knot. They had the pinstripes that were the current height of fashion, as well as some leather greaves and deep pockets. The shirt was a soft white linen with three buttons at the top and a small ornate te over the heart. The suit jacket was a dark brown, and was a bit more armored, though only with some leather vambraces and shoulderguards. The usual cravat was reced with a fashionable leather gorget that was more of a weird tie than an actual armor piece. All told, it was the least ¡®armored¡¯ I¡¯d ever been since I¡¯d arrived in Minnova.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like goin¡¯ without armor.¡± Balin muttered. He was wearing the good armored suit, which Aqua had kindly starched and ironed for him. He was quite snazzy in it, and I think I saw Annie nab him and drag him off to a dark room when he¡¯d first worn it into the brewery.


    ¡°Are you serious? You have a rare milestone that grants you armor any time you need it.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but that¡¯ll only work once.¡±


    ¡°You only need it once!¡±


    ¡°Still¡­.¡±


    ¡°You look fine, and besides, nobody is going to attack us at the Casino.¡±


    Balin silently stared at me. I stared back. I began to gently and desperately shake my head ¡®no¡¯, and he made a slightly sad face and shook his head ¡®yes¡¯.


    ¡°Nooo nonono¡­. please tell me there won¡¯t be an <i>actual</i> brawl. It¡¯s a fancy casino¡­¡± I moaned.


    ¡°There will probably be a brawl, Pete. How long have you been a dwarf now? How often did Grim¡¯s whinin¡¯ ever stop us from havin¡¯ a row?¡±


    ¡°I just thought things would be a bit more civilized at an officialpetition...¡± I had to stop a slight whine from entering my voice.


    ¡°Oh, it is. You¡¯ll get a pair of silver knuckledusters to tha back o¡¯ tha head instead of in iron ones.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m d I have you then.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, ya always could handle yerself in tha mine!¡±


    ¡°You may have missed it, Mr. born fighter, since you were always in the thick of it. I spent most brawls hidin¡¯ under Opal¡¯s skirt.¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, I hope Bran never finds out. He¡¯ll be right mad at ya¡¯.¡± Balin winced.


    ¡°It¡¯s a figure of speech Balin. Opal doesn¡¯t even wear skirts.¡±


    ¡ª


    Evening arrived, and we made our way to the casino. Between the two of us we¡¯d collected just under twelve gold to bet. I still had about half my initial hundred odd silver, and we¡¯d earned quite a bit more from our work at the Brewery. We wanted to work for in room and board, but Jeremiah refused, saying ¡®free work¡¯ had no real value. Balin and I were pretty sure Annie and Jeremiah would try to stop us from using our gold this way, so we¡¯d kept it under wraps. It would be a nice surprise for themter!


    The casino itself was one of the very few multistorey buildings in the city. Anything over a single storey seemed to be limited to official city structures, religious buildings, or clock towers. It made for rather easy navigation, asndmarks were simple to spot. The casino was a beautiful beige-granite castle-like edifice, with light shining out of nearly every nook and cranny. There was so much obvious magic and power on disy that it practically hurt to look at.


    I¡¯de by earlier for my entry form, but hadn¡¯t really explored. I¡¯d taken to staying indoors and chatting with Aqua while I worked myself to the bone in the brewery. She was an absolutendmine of information. Not a goldmine, since I had to pay incredibly close attention to every word I said around her. Aqua was a Blessed of Midna, and had ess to [Truespeech] which gave her some small insight into truth and lies. It wasn¡¯t a true lie detector, but it provided a bit of context for why so many dwarves were straightced: It was a survival strategy for dealing with a poption of empaths.


    I¡¯d asked Aqua if human society was simr, but she said human society was simply so fast and loose, and humans so capable of self-deception, that trying to separate fact from fiction was impossible. I filed that under ¡®make my own judgementster¡¯.


    Balin and I joined the throng entering the casino. We were swept alongside armored sequined dresses, mithril te, and ck leathers until we were brought before a couple of guards. They looked us over, pronounced us eptable, and then let us in.


    If you¡¯ve never been inside a casino before, they¡¯re almost always a giant open room. That provides the perfect acoustics to hear when someone wins big. The idea is that it fosters a feeling of shared excitement.


    It¡¯s also really loud, and crowded.


    There were tables filled with dwarves everywhere. There were dice games, roulette games, some kind of peg games, tumble games, and a lot of other games I¡¯d never seen before. There was an abundance of beer, a notableck of cards, and at least two ongoing brawls.


    ¡°Balin, where are the card games?¡± I had to exercise my self-control to keep from yelling at the top of my lungs just to be heard. I¡¯d figured a few games of ckjack or poker would help cool my nerves. An easy win was in the bag, but performance jitters werepletely normal. Not that my wife had everined about my performance.


    ¡°Why would ya want cards in a gamblin¡¯ hall?¡± Balin asked, confused. ¡°¡®Please ept my condolences that ya¡¯ lost all yer gold?¡¯ ¡®Congrattions on bein¡¯ a lucky bastard?¡¯¡±


    My eyes widened. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re saying that ying cards don¡¯t exist?¡±


    ¡°What dwarf would want ta¡¯ bet on paper? The only thing worth bettin¡¯ on is cold, hard, cash!¡±


    Literally cold and hard! Every table and every game seemed to involve the use of gems. There was a roulette that had a pair of diamonds rolling around in it. One brightly lit game had gems of different cuts falling down pins. They shed and twinkled like the gamblers¡¯ starstuck dreams, beforending in a slot that said ¡®House Wins¡¯. A few games of ¡®cups¡¯ were ongoing with dwarves trying to guess which cups had what gems hiding beneath.


    ¡°Dear Gods, It¡¯s nothing but gems!¡± I filed ¡®ying cards¡¯ into my valuable innovations pile alongside chess, go, and a myriad of other games. ¡°What are people supposed topete in?¡±


    ¡°Dice, mostly. Have ya¡¯ ever yed Liar¡¯s Dice?¡±


    ¡°Aye, the drinking game version mostly.¡± Liar¡¯s dice was a fun little game that was easy to y, but hard to master. Each yer got a cup and six dice to y with. You¡¯d spin the dice inside the cup and then nt it upside down on the table, trapping the dice underneath. You were allowed to look at the dice under your cup, and then had to state how many of a specific number of dice were likely to be under all the cups at the table. For example, I might say ¡°I think there are three fours under all the cups at the table. The next person could either call a ¡®bluff¡¯ or had to increase the chosen number or the number of dice, say to ¡°four fours¡± or ¡°three fives¡±¡±.


    There were a few monkey wrenches. Sixes counted as any number, and the dealer would always throw a cup of six dice down as well, but didn¡¯t need to guess. Additionally, if you called ¡®bluff¡¯ or if someone called ¡®bluff¡¯ on you and you were wrong, you lost a dice. Dwarven dice seemed to berge cut gems, but it was otherwise what I was used to.


    ¡°Do you want to y a round?¡± I asked, it would probably help to do something I was used to, actually.


    Balin shook his head and pointed towards an enormous sign that read ¡®Drinking Competition¡¯. ¡°I don¡¯t want ta chance you gettin¡¯ knocked out. Let¡¯s head over, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go win a hundred mithril.¡± I rubbed my hands together and strode confidently towards the stairs.


    ¡°Seventy-two.¡±


    ¡°Same difference!¡±

 Chapter 45: The Competition Begins

    <h4>Chapter 45: The Competition Begins</h4>


    Thepetition banner was over an enormous spiral staircase that led deep underground. Balin and I followed the throng down into the deep as we circled the granite stairs. We were all following several arrows that read ¡®Colosseum This Way¡¯.


    ¡°Balin, is there really an <i>entire </i>colosseum under the casino? Nobody told me about it when I signed up.¡±


    ¡°Aye, a big one. People bet on fights there.¡± He answered. ¡°They use it fer other events too, like tha beerpetition.¡±


    ¡°Fights like dwarf versus dwarf, or monster killing?¡±


    ¡°Both. There¡¯s magic on it ta keep fighters from takin¡¯ mortal wounds.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s¡­ neat.¡± I didn¡¯t know if the thought of bloodsports being popr made me sick to my stomach or excited.


    ¡°Besides, nobody even really gets hurt, since the casino has their own [Healer] on staff, and he¡¯s real strong too.¡± Balin shuffled his feet a bit. ¡°I was also thinkin ofpetin¡¯ here to make money fer tha brewery.¡±


    ¡°It would probably be safer than the dungeon.¡± My thoughts drifted back to the mine. ¡°Could the casino [Healer] help Lillyweather?¡±


    Balin shook his head. ¡°Nah, you¡¯d need a [Healer] with a Specialization fer bringin¡¯ back limbs. None a¡¯ those in all of Crack, as far as I know.¡±


    ¡°But there might be.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but more likely Copperpot will get her a good magic prosthetic.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that actually sounds awesome! Like a hand that could fire magic sts?¡± I mimed a certain red armored super hero.


    ¡°Aye, and more. A lot of adventurers end up gettin¡¯ em.¡± He pointed around the crowd, and now that I was looking for it I could see a lot of heavily armored and muscled dwarves with silver, gold, or brass limbs that I''d initially taken for armour. With a closer inspection they looked like cyborg limbs from a movie, with properly moving muscture and everything.


    ¡°Do adventurers ever get them on purpose?" I could imagine a metal limb would be a massive advantage if it packed enough magic.


    ¡°Sometimes.¡± Balin nodded. ¡°Usually it¡¯s like Lillyweather, and they lost an arm or leg to a monster. There¡¯s a lot o¡¯petition between magic engineers, tryin¡¯ ta make them better an stronger.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go out on a limb and say that engineers thatpete in a magic arms race are a bit humerus?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Do they cost an arm and a leg?¡±


    ¡°Please stop.¡±


    ¡ª


    The colosseum was in an enormous cavern under the casino. It looked a lot like the colosseum in Rome: circr with a ton of arches. The walls above and around us were covered in beautiful stone and crystal formations. I¡¯d seen pictures of crystal caves on the inte, and it looked a lot like that. The crystals were all a solid white, but lights had been set up to dye some of them gold and silver. Whenbined with the marble stone of the colosseum it made for a really rich backdrop.


    Speaking of rich!


    ¡°Balin, the betting booths are over there. Go put our gold on me to win.¡±


    ¡°Are ya sure Pete? I¡¯ve never done any drinkin¡¯petitions meself, but there¡¯s gotta be some realpetition.¡±


    ¡°They briefed me when I signed up, so I know what to expect. There¡¯s a knockout round to start where everyonepetes to drink a beer as fast as possible with no spige. The top hundred do it again, then the top fifty. The top ten move on to the actualpetitionter tonight. I practiced a bit and it seems I still have my old skills from Earth, and I was no slouch.¡±


    Which was a bit odd,e to think about it. Some of that had to be muscle memory. Maybe my soul was affecting my body? That could exin the high alcohol tolerance too. Another question to ask the Gods when I finally had a moment to talk to a [Prophet].


    ¡°I dunno¡­. I¡¯ve heard a good drinker can put away a jug of beer and not even feel it.¡± Balin frowned.


    ¡°Well Balin, I could drink <i>two</i> jugs and not even feel it. Let me tell you my regr drinkingpetition routine. Last night, I drank a ton of water. That got me nice and hydrated, and also expanded my stomach. For breakfast today I had a couple sses of beer, enough to get tipsy, alongside a heavy breakfast of yogurt, eggs, and your horrible fish.¡±


    ¡°What!? Yer¡¯ already drunk!? Aaron¡¯s Arse, Pete!¡± Balin clutched his moneybag and held it tight, clearly having second thoughts about betting it all on his crazy brother.


    ¡°Let me finish!¡± I waved him down and continued. ¡°I¡¯m fully sober now, but you can think of the morning drink like priming my body¡¯s pump. My liver has been clearin¡¯ alcohol out of my system since this morning, so it¡¯s ready and raring for more.¡±


    ¡°Huh, that makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Additionally, tha heavy breakfast will help absorb the alcohol. Then, I have my secret weapon.¡± I leaned over and revealed the contents of my pocket. Balin peaked inside.


    ¡°Is that¡­ butter?¡±


    ¡°Shhhhh!!¡± I mped my hand over his mouth as I noticed a few dwarves peer curiously in our direction. ¡°It¡¯s my secret weapon!¡±


    ¡°What, will ya¡¯ rub it on yer¡¯ opponent¡¯s mug and make him slip and spill?¡± Balin¡¯s voice was decidedly amused.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m goin¡¯ ta eat it.¡±


    Balin held his hand over his mouth and turned slightly green. ¡°Urgh, why?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a secret technique from a country called Russia. Their spies would eat a big stick of butter before going to parties. They¡¯d be able to drink with everyone while still staying sober. The body still absorbs the alcohol, but much slower, which means you get drunk <iter</i> instead of right away.¡±


    I now knew that to be an old wives tale, but I¡¯d internalized it in college, and the ritual is almost as important as the technique.


    ¡°Wow, Pete.¡± Balin raised his eyebrows. ¡°You really prepared!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not taking any chances. I want that gold, and I want onto the brewing floor. I¡¯m sick of waiting.¡± I thought about it and sighed. ¡°If you¡¯re really worried, bet on me getting into the top 10. We¡¯ll make a <i>lot</i> less money, but at least we¡¯ll cover our bases. Now go and put the money down, I need to get checked in.¡±


    We went our separate ways and I headed towards a big sign that said ¡°Competitors here¡±.


    ¡ª


    The dwarf at the entrance led me and three others to thepetition grounds. The center of the arena looked exactly like I expected, with rows and rows of seating overlooking a massive sand floor. There were multiple entrances for diators and monsters, as well as various interesting gadgets that I couldn¡¯t quite ce.


    "Ugh. I don''t like sand." I grumbled.


    There was also a sight I hade to expect from dwarven society: a hundred long pic style tables. Each table was packed with dwarves of all kinds, and the atmosphere was practically thrumming with anticipation.


    ¡°The first heat starts in about twenty minutes. You can take the time to prepare or meet with your fellowpetitors.¡±


    ¡°Thank you!¡± I smiled at the ck-armour d host as he seated the four of us at our respective tables and turned to face my firstpetitors. They weren¡¯t really anything to look at; most of them were wearing some semnce of an armored suit just like mine, though I was the only one with an expandable waist line.


    Amateurs. Thispetition was in the money bag.


    I pulled out my stick of butter and began to munch on it. The dwarves around me edged a bit away, and a couple turned green, but I didn¡¯t care. I gagged a bit as I swallowed; it had the slightly rancid aftertaste of goat product. I had searched for regr bovine butter, but the only varieties I could find cost nearly ten times as much as the goat variety.


    After another five minutes or so, the stands began to fill with a few watchers. I could tell a few were bookies from the way they watched and took notes. Most were family members, based on all the banners and hooting and hollering. There were paper signs, leather signs, solstone embedded gs, and a gnomish family with a gizmo that let out puffs of smoke that said ¡°Beatbox¡±. The aforementioned gnome, whom I <i>immediately</i> wanted to meet, was seated four tables over from me. I could tell when he pulled out a megaphone and called back to his family. He was middle aged, and wearing some kind of spandex suit,plete with a dozen fans and bottles strapped to his back. A cooling apparatus maybe? I noted him down as a seriouspetitor.


    Some of the other dwarves at my table waved at various people in the stands, and I searched for Balin to see if I could spot him. Eventually I managed to pick him out of the crowd, and I waved until he waved back.


    I started up some small-talk with the others at my table. They were a bit reluctant at first, but one fellow, who was clearly already drunk, took me up on the offer and soon we were all sharing our favourite beer stories. Every dwarf here wasn¡¯t really in it for the money, they just wanted to say they had taken part in thepetition to choose Minnova¡¯s greatest drinkers. Honestly, I could really get behind that. Some of my fondest memories were hanging out with my buddies at big events like Oktoberfest, and what could be bigger than celebrating a decamillenium?


    ¡°Thars ma son an¡¯ waif.¡± A dwarf named Thatch, who had the thickest ent I¡¯d encountered so far, pointed to a pair of dwarves sitting in the stands. They waved back at him and he blew a kiss. ¡°Ma son ain¡¯t ten yars auld. Looksik ¡®is father ¡®e do.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to be so proud when you win thispetition.¡± I winked cheekily, and Thatchughed.


    ¡°Nah, I don¡¯ ¡®spect ta win. Just fer fun.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot of silver to spend on fun, but it is once in a lifetime.¡± Besides, who was I to talk, considering the amount of money I¡¯d spent over the years on expensive drinks at fancy ces that sold subpar alcohol.


    ¡°Meh,¡± Thatch shrugged. ¡°Gold is gold.¡±


    That floored me. I¡¯d heard the saying used a <i>lot</i> in dwarven society, but this was the first time I¡¯d heard it used in a fashion that clearly meant ¡®Gold is <i>only </i>Gold¡¯. It was an ethos I¡¯d had closer to the end of my life back on earth, when I could afford to impulse buy expensive stuff, or randomly go on vacation. In my constant struggle for money over thest few months, I had forgotten what that was like. Hopefully I¡¯d get it back once I was brewing full time.


    ¡°ATTENTION ALL COMPETITORS!¡± My thoughts were interrupted as a dwarf up on a balcony overlooking the arena caught everyone¡¯s attention. His voice carried far more than it should have, and I suspected some magic or Milestone was involved. As one, every person snapped their eyes up to look at him. He smiled widely, and continued as the crowd grew silent. ¡°As the Lord of our fair city, it is my pleasure to wee all of you to the City of Minnova¡¯s first champion beer drinkingpetition!¡±


    The crowd roared its approval and I focused in on the small figure dressed in red. He was wearing some kind of ruby encrusted outfit, almost like a crimson version of Elvis¡¯s signature suit. He had an enormous ck beard, and his eyes were actually <i>glowing</i>. There were a couple of steel d guards standing on the balcony with him. He swept his hand over the crowd and continued.


    ¡°This deca-millenium is special! We celebrate not only the continued prosperity of dwarf kind, but the invention of our sacred brew! Even now the other cities of Crack are scouring their popce for the greatest drinkers among them. They think they stand a chance!¡±


    The crowd booed and jeered at that, and he waited for them to quiet down before he continued.


    ¡°But we know the truth! From amongst you, we will find the hidden gem that will show the true might of Minnova! Now, prepare to drink, and MAY THE TREE TOWER!¡±


    The crowd roared back ¡°MAY THE TREE TOWER!¡±, and I joined in the fun. I guessed it to be the town motto, likely based on the motif of the dungeon. It was interesting how much of the local culture was based around the dungeon. I would have thought there would be some distrust or dislike, but it was clear the city was massively proud of their super dangerous death filled dungeon of doom. It was at that moment that I got another quest. I had been putting off my previous ones, and I was going to need to deal with them soon.


    <strong>Championship Road Part 1/2</strong>


    You are on the road to bing the greatest drinker in the city of Minnova. Prove yourself!


    Requirement: Enter the top 10


    Reward: +0.1 Vitality


    <i>Do you ept this quest?</i><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I clicked on yes, and in the next moment, a veritable flood of servers entered the arena, each carrying a tterden with drinks. One came alongside our table and handed a tankard to each of us. He then walked to the head of the table and raised his arm.


    ¡°In a moment, I will drop my hand. Each of you are to drink your beer as fast as possible. Any spige will disqualify you. The top drinker at the table will move to the next round.¡±


    We all nodded and took hold of our drinks, cing them at our lips. The host looked at his watch, and after a few seconds, dropped his hand.


    The technique for fast drinking varies from person to person, but its essence can be boiled down to: don¡¯t breathe, and don¡¯t swallow. The trick is to expel every bit of air in your lungs and then open your mouth as wide as possible. This opens up a muscle in your throat called the epiglottis, and lets you pour the beer directly down your esophagus and into your stomach. If you can avoid gagging, it allows you to drink incredibly fast. The world record is only one and a half seconds to drink an entire <i>liter</i> of beer. The record for a pint is half a second.


    I wasn¡¯t that good. It took me almost three quarters of a second to chug the pint.


    I mmed my mug down on the table and looked around. Everyone else had barely taken their first sip. A couple of them even stopped and stared at me with wide eyes, though Thatch continued chugging merrily away.


    I nced at the host, who stammered. ¡°The winner of this table is Peter Roughtuff!¡±


    Hail to the king, baby!

 Chapter 46: All In

    <h4>Chapter 46: All In</h4>


    I said my goodbyes to Thatch, who merrily went up into the stands to sit with his wife and son. He didn¡¯t care in the slightest that he¡¯d been thest to finish at our table.


    ¡°Guidchk thar Pete.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Thatch, hope you enjoy the rest of the show.¡±


    ¡°Dontcha warry, ay will.¡±


    And so the top one-hundred drinkers in Minnova went on to the next round. The staff came out and moved tables around as a grumble of dwarves moseyed around the Lord. All the royals, schmoozing up there while us poor bastards were boozing down here. Thankfully, a bunch of them were moving up to the bookies and handing overrge sacks of cash to ce their bets. It was time for the big money to hit the table now that the top hundred were chosen.


    Speaking of royalty, I hummed a little ¡°Smooth Criminal¡± while I waited at the sidelines. Based on how that first round had gone, this <i>was</i><i>indeed</i> practically stealing. I sent a silent thank you to those lords anddies up there for their generous donations to the ¡°Get Pete on Brew Duty¡± fund. Hopefully not too many of them bet on me. Speaking of which, I should have toned down that first round¡­ I¡¯d slow down a bit for round two.


    The next round went fairly simrly to the first. A hundred tables were reduced down to twenty five and fourpetitors were invited to sit down at each one. The drinks were brought out and the same spiel was made. This time the Lord himself, not Jesus though, held up his hand and dropped it. Everyone else was so enthralled with watching nobility announce the start that they almost missed it. I did mess up a bit and almost choked when the dwarfess sitting across from me actually swooned when the Lord shed us a smile. Thankfully, I kept it down and managed an easy three second drink. The other dwarf at my table who moved on to the next round was named Jim.


    Jim didn¡¯t talk much.


    I turned to wave at Balin up in the nosebleed section, and he was surprisingly easy to pick out of the now growing crowd.


    Because of the massive sign that said: ¡°Go Pete!¡±


    I could juuust make out splotches of blue and blonde on opposite ends of the sign.


    Shit. We¡¯d been made.


    ¡ª


    ¡°You¡¯re sure they¡¯re up to something?¡± Annie asked. ¡°I want you to know that I trust Balin unequivocally.¡± Her voice was steadfast, with nary a quaver of doubt.


    ¡°I can understand that.¡± Aqua nodded, as the two of them shadowed the pair of well-dressed dwarves just ahead. ¡°But Pete¡¯s been super suspicious the past couple days. You must have noticed Balin was talking nearly a whole octave higher all morning.¡±


    Annie sighed the adoring sigh of a fianc¨¦. ¡°Yes, I did notice. He¡¯s a darling, andpletely incapable of hiding anything from me.¡±


    ¡°Well, Pete is more than capable of hiding <i>lots</i>.¡± Aqua shrugged, and paused to peek around a corner as Pete and Balin continued down the main thoroughfare,pletely unaware of their shadows.


    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Annie raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°It¡¯s simple!¡± Aqua waved Annie on and the two ducked behind a stall before they slowly slunk up the street. ¡°Everyone has things they want to hide, and little white lies they tell everyone every day. That¡¯s just a fact!"


    She began to list examples on her fingers as they waited for Pete and Balin to stop staring at an extremely fancy gnomish contraption that created roadside sugar sticks.


    ¡°The dinner is delicious. That dress looks good on you. Of <i>course,</i> we¡¯re best friends. I¡¯ll be home on time. I¡¯ll always love you.¡±


    ¡°Ow.¡± Annie winced a bit at thest one. ¡°You can tell when people lie about that? That feels more like a curse than a Blessing.¡±


    ¡°You learn to live with it.¡± Aqua shrugged. ¡°Culturally speaking, we''re pretty good with being blunt most of the time. If you hate something Balin is wearing, would you just tell him?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. I want him to look as good as I think he looks!¡±


    ¡°See? I don¡¯t run into trouble with most of our kinsmen, because they usually tell me straight. The lies are still there, but they¡¯re small.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re <i>also</i> partial to throwing punches when the honesty is a bit <i>too </i>straight.¡±


    ¡°So? That¡¯s good too!¡±


    ¡°If you like a good scrap Annie, but not everyone does!¡± The two of them ducked behind a cart as Balin nced in their direction. ¡°The people I trust the <i>least</i> are those that don¡¯t tell any lies at all.¡± A few dwarves gave them curious looks, and Aqua shooed them away.


    ¡°What?¡± Annie said, confused. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. Why would the most honest people be the most suspicious?¡±


    ¡°Because they¡¯re weasel wording around my Blessing, which means they¡¯re trying to keep a secret. The less lies they tell, the bigger the secret. Pete <i>never</i> lies. He¡¯s hiding something <i>big</i> and I want to find out what it is!¡±


    Annie chewed her lip. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a threat to the brewery? Should I just ask Balin?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It might cause a rift, given how close those two are. That¡¯s why we¡¯re doing <i>this</i>. That¡¯s odd¡­¡±


    ¡°What? Wait, where did they go!¡±


    ¡°They just went into the casino. Quick, let¡¯s follow!¡±


    ¡ª


    Balin jingled the gold in his pocket as he waited in line to bet. He was a bit ufortable putting so much money on a gamble, but then he¡¯d never been the gambling type. Pete was absolutely certain though, andst time that had paid off with dividends.


    Eventually.


    Balin really hoped this went well. He didn¡¯t want to see Annie lose hold of her dream. If it did happen though, he¡¯d be there for her. He already knew what it meant to lose everything, and people hurt the most to lose. They¡¯d survive if the brewery closed, and maybe even find something else. Pete did have that ginger pop thing, and they probably didn¡¯t need to be registered Brewers to make it! Life would go on.


    ¡°What are you thinking about, Balin?¡± A feminine voice asked beside him.


    ¡°Oh, I was just thinkin¡¯ that no matter what happens, we¡¯ll be okay Annie.¡± He turned and smiled at the most beautiful dwarf in the entirety of Crack. The flowing gold of her beard always gave a warm feeling in his heart, and the crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she smiled were the brightest part of his day.


    ¡°That¡¯s nice. What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Pete¡¯s lookin¡¯ ta win thapetition so we can save tha¡¯ brewery. I¡¯m puttin¡¯ our gold down...¡± He trailed off.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Annie, is that you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡±


    ¡°That Aqua beside you.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh!¡± The blue haired <i>minx</i> waved cheerily.


    ¡°Uhh¡­..¡±


    ¡°Tell me more about this gold you¡¯re puttin¡¯ down.¡±


    ¡ª


    Annie glowered at the red-faced, lovable goof in front of her. She couldn¡¯t believe it. Every penny he and Pete owned, put down on a bet. For her brewery! She wasn¡¯t sure if she should kiss him or boot him in the rear.


    ¡°Secrets, huh?¡± Annie gave Aqua a <i>look.</i>


    ¡°Fine.¡± Aqua squirmed a bit. ¡°I¡¯m still suspicious.¡±


    Annie turned back to Balin. ¡°You said Pete is <i>sure</i> he can win?¡±


    ¡°Aye. It sounded like he¡¯s got some good ideas too.¡±


    ¡°Why was he so certain?¡±


    ¡°Um. Dunno.¡±


    ¡°Lie.¡± Aqua pointed out.


    ¡°Durnnit! He¡¯s won a lotta drinkin¡¯petitions and thinks he¡¯s got a good chance.¡± Balin¡¯s voice rose a slight octave, and he sweated a bit.


    ¡°Truth.¡± Aqua smirked.


    ¡°How¡¯s that possible, Balin? The only drinkingpetition I know of is this one, and my family provides the beer to nearly a tenth of the city. Well, used to provide.¡± Annie grimaced at the thought.


    ¡°Um... Uh... I¡­ I cannae¡­¡±


    ¡°Is it something Pete asked you to keep a secret?¡± Annie asked. Her heart reached out at his obvious distress. Balin truly was a terrible liar.


    ¡°Aye¡­¡± Balin deted a bit, giving her a piteous look.


    ¡°Ooooh, tell us!¡± Aqua moved in a bit closer, and Annie stomped on her foot. ¡°Owieee!!¡±


    ¡°Alright. We won¡¯t push it. Sorry, sweetheart.¡± Annie considered the problem a bit guiltily. Pete and Balin were willing to bet every penny they had for her future. She had returned that love and sacrifice with suspicion. Well, some of it was Aqua¡¯s fault, most of it really, but even so!


    Annie reached into her pocket and jiggled her coin purse. She had all the money for next month¡¯s bills in there; over ten mithril. Between the interest to the bank for the cost of the walls, the bad beer, and general operations, it wouldst a month or two at most. She needed at least three months to convince some of the old hires toe back and start up a n to get people buying their beer again. She was <i>positive</i> she could do it.


    She just needed time.


    Trust, and time. She made her decision as they were called up to make their bets.


    ¡°Give me the gold Balin.¡±


    ¡°Annie, we ¨C¡± Balin began to protest.


    Annie pulled out her coinpurse and thumped it on the counter. ¡°Let¡¯s add it to the pile. We¡¯re screwed either way, so let¡¯s put our hope on Pete. Top ten, right? Aqua, go get a roll of paper. I¡¯ll go get some paint. Balin, go get some seats. We have some cheering to do!¡±


    ¡ª


    I sweated a bit as Aqua and Annie waved from the stands. We were going to get <i>such</i> a talking to.


    I was currently seated with four other dwarves, waiting for the next round to start. The tables had been set up for the final fifty, which meant ten tables of five. The fastest from each table would go on to the top ten.


    A dwarf seated at the table beside mine chuckled, a deep bass <i>*ho ho ho*</i> that brought immediate thoughts of Santa to my mind. He was also <i>built</i> like Santa, with a white beard and jolly red nose. I would describe his figure as¡­ <i>rotund</i>; he was practically a sphere! ¡°Yer a bit distracted!¡±


    ¡°Just a bit.¡± I pointed up at the sign.


    <i>*ho ho ho</i>* ¡°It¡¯s nice ta be loved, isn¡¯t it!¡± He pointed at a small n of dwarves that were doing the flippy sign thing that happens asionally at football games. A series of wooden panels were flipped between red and ck to make moving images. They eventually settled on ¡®Rum Tum Rumbob¡¯.


    ¡°That it does. Are you Rumbob?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that I am. Nice to meet you. They¡¯re here ta see me win this!¡±


    I held out my hand for apanionable shake. ¡°I¡¯m Pete. I¡¯m here ta win this too!¡±


    Indeed, thepetition was actually serious now. I could see people going through meditation routines, stretches, and various superstitious rituals. This was a real gathering of weirdos, for sure. It made sense though. Drinkingpetitions weren¡¯t really a thing, so any fast and big drinker was going to be a bit differentpared to your average dwarf. If you¡¯ve ever met a Guiness Record holder, they¡¯re often a bit weird. ¡°The most hot dogs in one minute¡± is not something a fully sane person is willing to attempt.


    Beside me, Rumbob began burping a song, and across from me a dwarf that had introduced herself as ¡®Gemgem¡¯ began hyperventting with an extreme look of concentration.


    A real collection of weirdos; I was probably the only normal dwarf here.


    I took another bite of my butter.


    ¡ª


    The next while was a blur of activity as the hosts came and delivered their amber payload, and thepetitors squared off. Then the Lord killed the mood with a long reverential speech. ¡°The city appreciates¡±, ¡°Generations will remember¡± and other such nonsense. None of that mattered as much as the moment and the malt. I peeked a nce at Rumbob and we nodded at each other. I could see Beatbox was still in, and Jim looked as bored as ever. This was the moment of truth.


    I¡¯d asked a host about the odds on me making it to the top ten, and it was two to one. I thought it was high for just top ten, but apparently some of the dwarves in thispetition were nobility; other nobles were betting a lot on them for the sake of solidarity. If I won we¡¯d go home with over twenty gold. It would be enough to help, but I doubted it would be enough to save the brewery; I¡¯d still need to get first ce.


    The Lord raised his hand and my attention snapped towards him. I took a deep breath out and opened my mouth wide. A half beatter, he dropped his hand and I poured the tankard directly down my throat.


    *bing*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Championship Road Part 1/2</strong>


    You¡¯ve got the fastest throat in the west!


    Reward: +0.1 Vitality


    <strong>Championship Road Part 2/2</strong>


    You are on the road to be the greatest drinker in the city of Minnova. Prove yourself!


    Requirement: Enter the top 3


    Reward: [ Adjust Taste ]


    <i>Do you ept this quest?</i><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    Hell yeah!

 Chapter 47: Scouting the Competition

    <h4>Chapter 47: Scouting the Competition</h4>


    Wee to the WWB! The World''s Worst Beer!


    Ten people enter.


    One winner leaves.


    A match for the ages.


    The ¡®Goliath¡¯, <i>Rumbob</i>! His jolly *ho ho ho* is thest thing you¡¯ll hear before his massive fists POUND you into the <i>floor</i>!


    The ¡®Heartbreaker¡¯, <i>Emerelda</i>! Her green eyes and apple tresses are a trap to catch the eye while she CRUSHES your <i>spirit</i>!


    The gnomish ¡®Demon of Artifice¡¯, <i>Beatbox</i>! Don¡¯t let his small frame fool you, his DEVILISH good looks are only matched by his HELLISH intellect!


    The ¡®Basic Bitch Warrior¡¯, <i>Jim</i>! <i>Pause for effect.</i>


    The ¡®Pink Panic¡¯, <i>Raspberrysyrup</i>! This adorable gnomess has cooked up a hearty serving of PAIN and it¡¯s <i>time for dinner</i>!


    The ¡®Crackian Bear¡¯, <i>Chuck</i>! The MIDNIGHT of his skin is only matched by the BLACK of his <i>heart</i>, but he¡¯ll give you the BRUISES to match!


    The ¡®Tiny Tank¡¯, <i>Tania</i>! Heavy armor¡¯s her fame and MAKING YOU CRY is her game!


    The ¡®Aptly Named¡¯ <i>Brewski</i>! What monster names their child after bad beer? Find out when <i>mummy</i> runs into the ring and DESTROYS you!


    The ¡®Great White¡¯ <i>Lord Samuel</i>! You¡¯ll learn to respect yer <i>elders</i> after he teaches you a LESSON you¡¯ll <i>never forget</i>!


    Finally the ¡®Cicerone¡¯, <i>Peter Roughtuff</i>! The master of a thousand brews and the CERTAIN champeen!!!!!


    YEAAAHHHHH!!!!


    The crowd goes wild! Peter! Peter! Pete! Pete!


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    Pete! Pete! Pete!


    ¡°Pete!¡±


    ¡°Huh, wuzzat?¡± I turned away from the massive trophy filled with mithril coins that had been set up on the stage. I had pro-wrestling on my mind ever since my conversation with Brock. I needed to go catch a show with him after this business with the brewery was done. Rumbob was standing beside me with a big smile on his white-bearded face.


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Yer distracted again! Are ya nin¡¯ to give me an easy win?¡±


    ¡°Fat chance!¡± Erm¡­ maybe not the best word choice there. ¡°Uh, no chance?¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°No worry! I am what I am, and I¡¯m proud of what I am. I know you meant no harm.¡±


    ¡°Phew. Thanks Rumbob. Yeah, I am a bit distracted, I really need to win this.¡±


    ¡°Ahh.. you seek to bring Minnova glory bypetin'' at the decamillenial?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, you desire the fame thates with bein'' the first in all''a history to win this event!¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ have spent many years preparin'' yer body and mind for this final test and seek to prove your worth to one of the lovelyds orsses up there?¡±


    ¡°Oh, definitely not. I just want the money.¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Often the simplest answer is the correct one! Did you truly have such a need that you were willing to be a misfit before the entire city?¡±


    ¡°Aye. My friends really need the money, and I want to prove to them that I have what it takes.¡±


    ¡°I can see from their waving and shouting that they already believe that you have what it takes, my stylishpetitor.¡± Rumbob pointed up to the stands, where Aqua was singing a cheer song that she must have just made up. My ears coloured with embarrassment, and maybe a little appreciation.


    ¡°Woah woah woah. Hold on a moment.¡± I dodged out of the way of a builder as he put a couple more finishing touches on the stage. ¡°Did you say ¡®misfit¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Why yes! I know several of these fine dwarves and gnomes.¡± He pointed towards Beatbox, who waved, as well as Chuck, Emeralda, and Jim. ¡°They are mypatriots,rades in arms in the art of deep and fast drinkin¡¯! The pro drinker¡¯s ways are unpopr, though not illegal. This is our chance to shine in the sun and reveal to all the glory of the drinkin¡¯petition!¡± *ho ho ho*


    ¡°Truly a noble goal, sirrah!¡± I gave him a thumbs up.


    ¡°I¡¯m d you think so!¡± He gave me a thumbs up in return.


    The ten winners were killing time on the sand of the arena floor while we waited for thepetition to begin. I would have thought there would be a ceremony or some kind of back room for us to rx in, but apparently the organizers and the betting public wanted the maximum number of eyes on us at all times. I felt a bit like a fish in a fishbowl, and I could feel a cold sweat trickle down the small of my back.


    Over a hundred overall and leather d workers descended upon the stadium like a swarm of ants. I shivered a bit at the thought of ants; like a <i>gue of locusts</i>. A massive stage with a ring shaped table took shape. There were ten chairs set up inside the ring, each facing out towards the stands. The stage stretched out to the Lord¡¯s box seat, and at its foot arge podium had been set up for the trophy.


    It was all incredibly grandiose,pletely overdone, and absolutely magical; I couldn¡¯t wait.


    ¡°I have to ask, since you know Beatbox, what are all those contraptions on him, and are they legal?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask him yourself? Beatbox! Come say ¡®Hi¡¯ to our new friend, Pete!¡±


    The gnome finished strapping on another set of spinning fans and made his way over to where we were standing next to the stage. Like a lot of gnomes, he looked almost childlike, with tiny proportions and big eyes. He also had arge horseshoe moustache and slicked back grey hair, which made him look like a wise-cracking wabbit in disguise; I had to hold back a giggle.


    ¡°Heya! Rum-Tum-Rumbob! Looks like my win may not be set in stone!¡± He shook Rumbob¡¯s hand and then turned to look at me. His voice was a rapid fire alto that I could barely keep up with. ¡°It appears Minnova has a brand new master degenerate. I saw you throw back that beer like nobody was watching. Amazing stuff, it was practically an art! You¡¯ll need to teach me your technique.¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Beatbox! Give thed a chance to get acquainted first!¡±


    ¡°Aw, you hush up, Rumbob. Your wife and dozen children are all the attention you need. I¡¯m amazed she let youpete. You think she¡¯ll actually let you take them all to the Capital if you win? She must be keeping an eye out for any of your neighbours so she can off them before they get the chance to gossip about your depravity.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Rumbob leaned in, his face growing a bit sinister. ¡°I saw that cheering device up there. Aren¡¯t you still sanctioned by the tinkers guild for thest time? Are you even allowed to do any tinkering? Could I reduce mypetition by sending a simple message?¡±


    Beatbox growled. ¡°You wouldn''t dare! Besides, my daughter put it together, I didn¡¯t have a single hand in it. I¡¯ll rat to your [Doctor] about your drinking habits if you even touch amstone.¡±


    ¡°Try me, droopy.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh, you¡¯d like that, wouldn¡¯t you, henpeck.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d grind you like malt, shortstack.¡±


    The two of them were practically forehead to forehead at this point.


    *cough* ¡°Hello? Excuse me?¡± The pair turned to look at me, and I waved. ¡°Still here.¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°That you are! Sorry about that Pete, Beatbox and I are old rivals.¡±


    ¡°No worries, and I¡¯d love to give you some drinking lessons Beatbox! Come by the Thirsty Goat some evening and I¡¯d be happy to have you!¡±


    ¡°The Thirsty Goat, huh?¡± Beatbox looked up to where Aqua was currently in a scuffle with a group of dwarves all dressed in pink. ¡°I thought I recognized that blue mop and fiery charm. A shame what happened to them.¡± He and Rumbob both looked at me with a bit of pity.


    ¡°No worries. I¡¯m here to make sure things get back on track.¡±


    ¡°Ah!¡± Rumbob smacked his fist into his palm. ¡°The money! You n on puttin¡¯ tha mithril towards tha Thirsty Goat? Truly a noble goal!¡± *ho ho ho*


    ¡°Indeed! It would be a shame to lose such an excellent ale!¡± Beatbox nodded. ¡°Now, you had a question?¡±


    ¡°Aye. What¡¯s all.. this?¡± I waved my hand, epassing Beatbox¡¯s gadgets.


    ¡°My personal perspirators? They¡¯re perfectly legal by the letter of thepetition.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ what do they do?¡±


    ¡°They reduce my internal thermal coefficient while providing adequate dermal hydration.¡±


    I parsed that for a moment. ¡°They keep you cool and sweaty?¡±


    ¡°If you want to be pedantic.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure. Anyways, anything I need to know about thepetition?¡±


    Rumbob pped me on the shoulder. ¡°An excellent topic of conversation! I know most and can point them out to you!¡± He pointed to where Chuck, Emerelda, and Jim had gathered to chat. ¡°Chuck there lifts kegs for fun, and likes drinkin¡¯ them in one gulp if he can. He¡¯s got a mean right hook to watch out for. Emerelda may not be the fastest drinker -¡±


    ¡°Good enough to make the top ten!¡± Beatbox interrupted. Rumbob rolled his eyes and continued.


    ¡°She may not be the fastest drinker <i>in our group, </i>but she can keep going forever. She¡¯s also got a head harder than rock, and she isn¡¯t afraid to use it. Then there¡¯s Jim.¡±


    ¡°Yes indeed, there is Jim.¡± Beatbox nodded.


    ¡°What about Jim?¡± I asked, curious. Perhaps he had some great secret that made him stand out, because Midna¡¯s Mullet, that dwarf could <i>wallflower.</i>


    ¡°He likes beer.¡± Rumbob shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s pretty good at not getting noticed.¡±


    ¡°I noticed.¡± The three of usughed as Jim turned to look at us, perhaps having heard his name.


    ¡°The others I only know by reputation. Tania over there is a rather famous adventurer, and I¡¯m desperately d no weapons are allowed inside the ring. She¡¯s famous for an insatiable drinking habit, and ending more brawls than she starts. Lord Samuel is an actual stuffed shirt noble, and he¡¯s probably had more kinds of alcohol than every other person in this colosseumbined. He was a fierce colosseum fighter back in his youth, but he retired after old age caught up to him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen him drinking one of those human alcohols. I think he may have even had¡­ <i>wine</i>.¡± Beatbox added, with way too much aplomb and emphasis for something like wine. Barck¡¯s Beard, I wonder if there¡¯s something screwy with the wine here too.


    ¡°Those are all the ones I know. Do you have anything to add, Beatbox?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s Strawberrysyrup.¡± Beatbox practically hissed.


    ¡°She looks nice.¡± I gave the pink pigtailed gnomess a onceover. She reminded me a lot of that pink haired little sailor scout from back when Sammy had her ¡®magical-girl¡¯ phase. The look waspleted by a ruffled dress and a cheerful demeanor.


    ¡°Ah yes.¡± Rumbob¡¯s face darkened. ¡°I was trying to ignore her.¡±


    I could sense the grim undercurrent. ¡°Why?¡±


    Beatbox pointed up to the stands. ¡°If you look over there, you can see the lovely blue beauty of Thirsty Goat Brewery beating a posse of pink perfumed posers with their own signs.¡°


    ¡°I see that." I made the connection immediately. ¡°They¡¯re wearing the same pink! Is that her family?¡±


    ¡°Her hangers ons.¡± Rumbob grumbled.


    ¡°Her <i>groupies</i>.¡± Beatbox grumped.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not a drinker.¡± Beatbox whined. ¡°She¡¯s a <i>[Bard]</i>.¡±


    ¡°Again, what¡¯s wrong with that?¡±


    Beatbox stamped his feet a bit, which was absolutely adorable. ¡°Beer is serious business! Our reputation is bad enough without turning drinking into.. into..¡±


    ¡°A show?¡± I raised an eyebrow and waved my hand around the packed colosseum.


    *ho ho ho* Rumbob pulled at his white whiskers. ¡°He¡¯s got us there, Beaddy.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s just <i>using</i> her drinking skills to garner fans! It¡¯s not¡­ It¡¯s not¡­ It¡¯s not <i>fair!</i> Dammit, I had to be a closet speed drinker for years and she just¡­ does it out in the open!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just angry she¡¯s prettier and more popr than you are.¡± Emerelda broke in, as she joined us. "Besides, if you''re not careful you''ll end up sitting with them." She pointed towards a dozen or so dwarves at the front of the stands. They were all in traditional leather and mail armor, and were carrying cards that had slogans like:


    "Beer isn''t a Game" and "The True Brew Needs You".


    "Who''re those posers?" I asked.


    "The Honourable Guild of Brewers," Rumbob sighed. "They''re in charge of all the breweries in Minnova. They''re not fans ofpetitive drinkin''." Ergh, that sounded a lot like Tim. I was nearly guaranteed to butt heads with them at some point.


    "Are they powerful?"


    "Not really. They take themselves pre''ty seriously, but their own traditions keep ''em from pushin'' their weight around too much."


    "And shortstack sounds just like them!" Emerelda added.


    ¡°Yearns Yams, Emerelda, this was a private conversation!¡± Beatbox kicked the dwarfess in the shins.


    She smiled cheerily and put her hand down on his face, pushing him away. She turned to me, and I was struck by what an absolutely charming permed beard she had. Her eyes sparkled as she looked me up and down. ¡°You¡¯re a cut above the rough crowd I¡¯m used to in this field. I¡¯m Emerelda, nice to meet you, handsome.¡± She held out her hand and I smiled as I took it.


    ¡°I¡¯m Pete, nice to meet you too. You''re a good bit better looking than these two too.¡±


    ¡°Ha, tterer! Don¡¯t let these two try and hoodwink you. Rumbob here is almost impossible to knock over, and those contraptions make Beatbox slippery and a pain to keep grappled. Rumbob is weak to tickling under his left knee, and Beatbox can¡¯t handle having his moustache pulled.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Says thess with a ss jaw!¡±


    The three friendsughed and jostled good naturedly. The trickle of cold sweat falling down the small of my back was slowly turning into ice.


    ¡°Why¡­ why are you all giving me so much advice on how to fight?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t ya read thapetition rules?¡± Emerelda asked.


    ¡°Indeed, all the relevant information can be found there.¡± Beatbox nodded.


    I pulled out the paper with thepetition rules on it and quickly read down to the offending sentence.


    ¡®Top three will go on to represent Minnova in the Capital. Thest one standing wins!¡¯


    *ho ho ho* "Surely you realized. It''s called a ''Beer Brawl''!"


    I stared in shock at the page. Oh,e on! What''s in a name?


    ¡°Makin¡¯ sure yer beer doesn¡¯t spill while a gnome is chewin¡¯ on yer toes is always the tricky part!¡± Rumbob continued, incredibly unhelpfully.


    Oh, noooooo. Where was Doc Opal to hide behind when I needed her!

 Chapter 48: The Barck Beer Brawl

    <h4>Chapter 48: The Barck Beer Brawl</h4>


    Okay Pete, you¡¯ve got this. It''s just a small curve ball!


    Let¡¯s run down what I¡¯ve got.


    [Flesh to Stone] was essentially a second life.


    [sh of Insight] could give me the correct course of action in a pinch.


    [Power Pick] woulde in handy if I¡­ thought of a mug as a pick? Doubtful, but worth a try.


    [Ingredient Scan] wouldn¡¯t be much help. I¡¯m still dying to go to the market and test it, which should be possibleter this week.


    [Strength of All: Held] should help with holding onto my tankard.


    The ever awesome [Regeneration] would ensure I couldn''t get taken out in one hit.


    Finally, my high vitality meant it¡¯d take a lot to knock me out.


    Then there¡¯s this handy dandy new Milestone, courtesy of a Quest that I¡¯ve been purposefully avoiding...


    <strong>y</strong>


    <i>You may not have demonstrated any prowess, but you put on a good show anyways!!</i><i></i>


    <i>in: 10/10 Monsters</i>


    Reward: [Basic sh]


    I¡¯ve been putting off any thoughts about the stoneant incident, and I think the only thing keeping me from getting some PTSD has been the absolute rollercoaster of the past week. [Basic sh] should work fine with any weapon, including a chair and would likelye in clutch.


    [Basic sh]


    <i>You add an additional 5 strength to an attack with a melee weapon. </i>


    <i>This ability can be used once every thirty six seconds.</i>


    It definitely had an <i>I HAVE THE POWER </i>kind of feel to it. An awesome Milestone that was practically necessary to be an adventurer.


    I also hated it and never nned to use it. Balin took tobat like¡­ well, a dwarf tobat, but it just wasn''t for me.


    Finally¡­ I had a secret weapon that I just couldn¡¯t bring myself to use. Opal had been a bit <i>loose</i> in her description of Specializations. It wasn¡¯t that the stuff you were doing at the moment you got your fifth Milestone determined the avable Specializations, instead¡­


    <strong>Congrattions!</strong>


    <i>You have obtained 5 Milestones and maybine them into a Specialization!</i>


    <i>Do you wish tobine [Outworlder], [Stabilize Mixture], [Power Pick], [Ingredient Scan], and [Basic sh] into a Specialization?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I hadn¡¯t chosen anything yet, but the option was there. I¡¯d asked Copperpot about it and he¡¯d said most people just go for their Specialization as soon as they hit five Milestones. A Specialization was just that powerful. However¡­ the four Specialization options you¡¯d get were always based on the Milestones you¡¯dbined. In other words, this current set of Milestones was likely to get me somebat rted Specializations.


    I couldn¡¯t bring myself to do that. Not with [Carbonate] and now [Adjust Taste] right within reach. If I could get some kind of magic Milestone, that would be even better. But ording to Copperpot, stuff like that was more likely to show up after my first or second Specialization.


    ¡°NOW ANNOUNCING THE MAIN EVENT!¡±


    My attention was pulled to an armoured-tuxedo d dwarf with a megaphone of some kind standing next to the trophy. I was with the other contestants, kneeling underneath the Lord¡¯s box as he imperiously surveyed the coliseum.


    ¡°THESE TEN CONTESTANTS WILL COMPETE TO DETERMINE THE GREATEST DRINKER IN ALL OF MINNOVA.¡±


    Muh ears!


    ¡°THE RULES ARE AS FOLLOWS! THE TEN CONTESTANTS WILL TAKE THEIR SEATS WITHIN THE RING! THE LORD HIMSELF SHALL HIT THE GONG TO BEGIN! FROM THEN ON THE GONG SHALL SOUND EVERY TEN SECONDS! A CONTESTANT THAT LEAVES THE RING OR IS UNABLE TO FULLY COMPLETE A DRINK WITHIN THOSE TEN SECONDS WILL FORFEIT!¡±


    Alright, there was the trick. If I could keep someone from finishing their drink within ten seconds, they were out. That was actually very beneficial for me, since I could just pound down a drink in one second and then spend the next nine to eighteen seconds dodging.


    ¡°LET¡¯S HEAR IT FOR THE TOP TEN!¡±


    The stadium roared, and I do mean ROARED. It sounded like a very happy bomb had gone off. Every seat was packed, and I could barely make out my cheering squad now. The only reason I could pick them out was the giant collection of pink banners sitting behind them. Spoils from the fan wars? Raspberrysyrup kept giving me angry nces, and I tried to ignore them. Not my fault!


    The four pro drinkers, as I¡¯de to learn they were called, Beatbox, Emerelda, Jim, and Rumbob glowed with pride. Millenia of scorn turned around in an instant by imperial recognition. I was happy for them, especially as a newfound cultural appreciation forpetitive drinking could be very lucrative for us!


    ¡°NOW FOR A WORD FROM OUR TEN CONTESTANTS!¡±


    OY! Nobody said anything about a speech!


    Rumbob was first, and said some titudes thanking his family and the Gods for the opportunity. Beatbox was quite the same. The crowd cheered dutifully after each short speech. It was like listening to the Oscars, except thesepetitors actually <i>meant </i>those thank yous.


    The only standout was Raspberrysyrup, who did a whole song, dance, and pose. Complete with an ¡°I wuv you my adoring fans, make sure toe see my concert next week!¡± There was a mix of cheers and stunned silence. I was right that advertising wasn¡¯t really a thing. She red at me as she turned off the stage, and I winced as I realized those pink banners up behind Aqua were probably part of her ad package.


    Then it was my turn, and my stage fright vanished as I took a deep breath and reached down into my CEO and marketing lizard brain.


    ¡°HELLO MINNOVA! ARE YOU THIRSTY!?¡±


    The crowd roared their approval. Good start, good start!


    ¡°I HOPE YOU LIKE THE TASTE OF TEARS! BECAUSE YOU¡¯RE ABOUT TO SEE A LOT OF ¡®EM!¡±


    Laughter, good. This was definitely a crowd that was used to the showmanship of pro-wrestling. I could work with this.


    ¡°I HOPE NONE OF YOU PAID FULL PRICE FOR THOSE SEATS, BECAUSE YOU¡¯RE ONLY GOING TO USE THE EDGE!¡±


    More scattered cheers, and then a growing swell ofughter as the crowd got it. The hidden benefit of [Outworlder] was that all the old jokes are new here!


    ¡°I¡¯M PETER ROUGHTUFF, AND I¡¯M HERE REPRESENTING THIRSTY GOAT BREWERY! IF YOU AND YOUR PALS WANT TO DRINK WITH A CHAMPION DRINKER AFTER THE COMPETITION, COME DROP BY THIRSTY GOAT BREWERY, WHERE WE DON¡¯T KID AROUND WITH BEER!¡±


    Unlike Raspberrysyrup¡¯s pitch, the crowd wholeheartedly approved of my approach. There was a lot of shouting and raised fists. I pumped my fist as well, and pointed towards a shell-shocked little blonde figure up in the stands. Annie waved nervously as the crowd turned towards them and cheered some more.


    <i>Your Charisma has increased by 1!</i>


    <i>Your new Charisma is 12! </i>


    Score!


    It took a minute for the MC to calm the crowd, and then it was time for thest few speeches. I wasn¡¯t really paying attention; I needed to get into the zone.


    I pulled out my second-tost bar of butter.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Nice speech, Pete.¡± Rumbob sotto-voce¡¯d as we walked down the stage towards our seats.


    ¡°Thanks, Rumbob.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need toe to the afterparty at Thirsty Goat.¡±


    ¡°The more champions, the better, Rumbob. Especially when they¡¯re going to be drinking with the winner.¡±


    ¡°Why, thank you for the support!¡±


    ¡°I was talking about me!¡± We bothughed as we pulled out our chairs. Rumbob was seated at my left and Brewski was on my right. We were inside the ring of the table, which was about ten meters in diameter; it was fairly big, but not massive. Each seat had an assigned host standing outside the ring with a collection of tankards and a keg. They would be putting a tankard at each spot every ten seconds.


    ¡°Barck¡¯s Luck, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Uh, you too.¡±


    I took my seat, and we all turned to look at the Lord. He held up his hand and the crowd fell silent. Then he took up a massive hammer in one ruby gemmed glove, and swung it.


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    The crowd cheered, the first tankard was ced before me, and I breathed out, opened wide, and drained it. Then I ducked under the table.


    Rumbob¡¯s fist flew over my head as Brewski ran through my now ex-chair and plowed into Rumbob.


    "[Immovable]!!"


    And bounced. The two of them swore in various forms of Godly clothing and body parts, before they met with a crash on top of the wreckage of my chair.


    There was a brief pause as they each struggled to gain control of the clinch. Which was exactly when a certain no-good viin cheap-shot Brewski with a [Basic sh] to the knee. My tankard exploded on his kneecap, and he roared with pain, which gave Rumbob the opening he needed.


    Rumbob got Brewski into an armbar then held him tight. Rumbob was massive, and he applied that leverage to keep Brewski in check while he happily downed his first drink. Brewski struggled and swore, but his lonely drinky just out of reach, undrunk.


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    Rumbob dropped the now despondent Brewski. I snuck a hand out to grab my next tankard, but was arrested as a hand like a vice mped around my ankle.


    ¡°Sorry about this, Pete!¡± Rumbob yanked me out from under the table and held me upside down. I struggled as he reached over and grabbed his new drink, unphased. He lifted it to his lips just as a hollering Beatbox ran over and tossed a chair our way. Rumbob lifted me up as a makeshift fleshy shield, but I had an escape ready to go.


    ¡°[Flesh to Stone]!!¡±


    Rumbob cried out an oath and dropped me as I became too heavy to hold. That oath was drowned out by a howl of pain when my statuesque body fell on top of Beatbox. The two of us crashed to the ground, but I jumped right back to my feet as I ended [Flesh to Stone]. Beatbox stayed down and Rumbob was busy with his drink. I ran back to my spot and downed the beer. Ugh, it was even more sour than usual! Was it the butter affecting my taste buds? No time to think!


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    I ran around the ring, Rumbob on my tail. Up ahead, I saw Jim sitting in his chair and drinking as everyone ignored him. I could <i>feel </i>my wisdom resist thepulsion to look away from him, and I was ufortably reminded of Tim. They even had the same name-ish!


    Which was why I grabbed the smashed remains of a nearby chair, and called the only war cry I knew as I went in for a [Power Pick].


    ¡°Fer Crack and Annie!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Did he just yell ¡®Fer Crack and Annie?¡¯¡± Aqua asked, as they watched the carnage unfold. The volume was magically amplified to ensure everyone could enjoy the action, and Pete¡¯s warcry had echoed through the colosseum.


    Pete had done well surviving the first ten seconds; they¡¯d been worried he would be knocked out right away. Twopetitors were already down, and Pete was about to take out a third. He might even make the top three at this rate.


    Annie had turned pink after Pete¡¯s little speech earlier, and was slowly turning crimson as sections of the crowd looked their way again. Some titters rose above the general volume of the fighting, and Annie hunched down into her chair.


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s my line!¡± Balin cried, in feigned indignation. ¡°Ouf!¡±


    He doubled over as a fist propelled by desperate embarrassment found his sr plexus.


    ¡ª


    Jim went down without a sound. It turned out that [Power Pick] worked fine as long as the weapon was pick-like. Such as the back of a chair broken into a basic uppercase ¡®T¡¯. I turned towards my seat, and realized that¡­ I was too far away. Rumbob had met up with Chuck and the two of them were tussling for control in the center of the ring, while Tania and Emerelda whaled on each other with their fists. My tankard of beer was way on the other side¡­.


    ¡°[sh of Inspiration]!!¡± My head ached with the flow of knowledge as my mind considered everything I knew and saw. I''d practiced it a bunch recently, and avoided falling over from the shock. The answer came instantly: the rules didn¡¯t say I had to drink my <i>own </i>tankard! I reached down, breathed out, and drained Jim¡¯s now unattended tankard.


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    ¡°Have at thee, varlet!¡± A voice to my side wheezed out, and I doubled over as a leg found my gut. The leg was followed up by a fist to the side of my head that bounced off my ornamental skullcap. The attack flowed into a smooth kata, and I realized with horror that Lord Samuel had me in some kind ofbo.


    "[Expert Combo]!"


    I was struck a half dozen times and my head swam as his fist came up to meet my nose. The only thing keeping me up was my high vitality. The gong rang again, or maybe that was my brain getting knocked around. I could see his kneeing for my forehead, and there was nothing I could do to avoid it when¡­


    <strong>*AAAHHHHHH!!!*</strong>


    My eardrums practically burst, and Lord Samuel fell back, clutching his ears. Raspberrysyrup advanced on us, her voice magically enhanced by a Blessing or Milestone of some kind. She continued to scream at the top of her lungs, and Lord Samuel cried out in pain. I felt [Regeneration] pull me back from the cusp of unconsciousness, and I jammed my fingers into my ears. Lord Samuel fell to the ground beside me; I guess his old ear-bones couldn¡¯t hold up against a sonic attack. With Lord Samuel down, Raspberrysyrup aimed her full might at me, and I was forced to use the only weapon I had in hand. I reached up and stuffed myst bar of butter into her open mouth.


    Then I ran, and drained an unattended tankard of beer as I went. Raspberrysyrup desperately wed at the wad of butter in her mouth as she tried to drink, but was unsessful.


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    Up ahead, Tania¡¯s fist found Emerelda¡¯s chin, and the poor dwarfess toppled like a statue. Tania¡¯s te armour was barely even dented. She turned towards me, her feet slow and plodding. I fled, and she activated a Milestone.


    ¡°[Advanced Charge]!¡±


    I¡¯d seen Brock use that skill, and it was a straight line! I flung myself sideways and felt a mass of metal rocket through where I¡¯d been standing. Tania crashed into the table as I scrambled to my feet. I had zero confidence that I could take her out, so I ran to where Rumbob and Chuck were duking it out. I ducked past them and grabbed another tankard and downed it. Chuck and Rumbob took a short break to drink as well, and Tania downed hers at thest second.


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    Tania and I each immediately drained the new mug, and I used my precious second or so head start to try and make some distance.


    I dodged and weaved, but she cornered me with the confidence and skill of a primal hunter. She raised a ted fist to bring it down on my head, and I had to make a decision. If I chose to Specialize, I could get a new pair of Blessings. That could be enough to turn the tide, but I would be pigeonholed into abat Specialization.


    I watched the fist inch towards my nose, and closed my eyes. No. There would be other opportunities to save the brewery, and I was done getting yanked around by circumstances. I would not sacrifice my future in this world on a split-second decision.


    That was when a struggling Chuck and Rumbob tripped over Tania and all four of the finalpetitors fell in a groaning heap.


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>

 Chapter 49: And The Winner Is....

    <h4>Chapter 49: And The Winner Is....</h4>


    Fourpetitors, four mugs of ale. Chuck grabbed my foot and Rumbob thumped him in the nose. Tania tried to clinch Rumbob''s neck, but his girth prevented it. I used [Basic sh] with my fist on Chuck''s fingers and broke his grip. Finally we were all forced to disengage as we reached out and desperately grabbed at various handles.


    ¡°[Disarm]!¡±


    Tania¡¯s gauntlet pounded into my wrist, and my fingers shook. [Strength of All: Held] kept me from dropping the mug, but it was enough to cost me a single desperate second as I regained my grip. I breathed out and -


    <strong>*GOOONGGG*</strong>


    I stared in disbelief at the half-full tankard at my lips.


    A host called me out from the ring and I rolled under the table. Adrenaline kept the sound of blood beating in my brain and the crowd was like the roar of the sea in my ears. Everything had that surreal feeling that came with a major win or loss.


    That¡¯s right¡­ I¡¯d lost. Fourth ce, not even the top three. Wreck had been right, I just¡­ wasn¡¯t strong enough. I was the fastest drinker here, but I stillcked the level of personal power necessary topete at the very top of dwarven society.


    Thepetition continued. Chuck got taken out by a double-team of Rumbob and Tania, and then the two of them suddenly stopped in midbat. Rumbob held up a hand, and called over the MC. The gong was paused during some whispered conversation, and then the MC pulled out his megaphone.


    ¡°EVERYONE! THE TWO REMAINING CHAMPIONS HAVE DECIDED TO CHANGE THINGS UP FOR FIRST PLACE! THEY WANT TO SEE WHO CAN TRULY DOWN THE MOST!¡±


    The crowd muttered confusedly for a while.


    ¡°THEY SAY IF WE ARE GOING TO SEND THE BIGGEST DRINKER IN MINNOVA, IT NEEDS TO BE THE ONE WITH THE GREATEST LOVE FOR THE BREW!¡±


    That got the crowd cheering. A short intermissionter, Rumbob and Tania sat across from each other on a small square table in the center of the ring. The Lord dropped his hand as the first drinks hit the table.


    There was no more gong, simply one beer after another. The crowd grew silent as the conga line of empty beer mugs grew longer and longer. My eyes grew wider and wider as each empty mug hit the table. Where the hell were they keeping all that beer? Then I heard it. I was standing close enough to the action that I caught their whispered <i>cheats</i>.


    ¡°[Expand Stomach]¡±


    ¡°[Compress Fluid]¡±


    ¡°[Remove Poison]¡±


    ¡°[Subspace Gullet]¡±


    They had Godsdamn <i>drinking </i>Milestones!? Thispetition had been rigged from the start! What kind of cockamamie weirdass God handed out something that <i>made your stomach bigger</i>!? Barck, it was <i>probably Barck. </i>


    In my indignation, I almost missed the moment Tania let out a massive burp and then copsed. Rumbob stood and thrust both fists into the air. The crowd went wild.


    ¡ª


    My ce was just beside the podium, a grinning Chuck at my side on the third ce riser. I was still a bit despondent, but all wasn¡¯t lost. Rumbob and some of the rest had agreed toe to the after party at the Thirsty Goat, which was sure to help drum up business. We should have won a good amount of gold on our bet and I¡¯d done some free advertising.


    I might not have managed to get onto the brewery floor this time, but slow and steady won the race. I looked up for Balin, Annie, and Aqua, but didn¡¯t see them. They were probably at the Thirsty Goat getting things ready for the party. I¡¯d need to apologizeter for getting their hopes up. To be fair, I hadn¡¯t told them about any of this initially, but still.


    The Lord came down on stage to personally present our awards. The massive trophy filled with mithril got handed to Rumbob, who lifted it up into the sky to the cheers of the crowd. There were simr cheers as Tania and Chuck were handed small wooden boxes. The Lord made some speech about Minnova being proud of its sons and daughters, but I was busy thinking about my next move.


    That was when the pilsner ssnded in my hand.


    I stared at it. It was indeed my vase shaped pilsner ss. With a faintly familiar gnome etched in gold on the side. My eyes snapped over to the Lord, who was still talking. His voice echoed through the Arena, but <i>he </i>didn¡¯t need a megaphone, it was just¡­ easy to hear him.


    ¡°- thank Whistlemop¡¯s Fineries for being a major sponsor as well as providing these genuine Whistlemugs for the top ten!¡±


    Just down the line, Brewski gave a tiny fist pump and I could make out his whisper.


    ¡°Score! These are from the first run! I can sell this for serious gold!¡±


    I stared down at the ss in a fresh round of disbelief. <i>Whistlemug</i>?!


    I pulled up a quest that I had been curious about for a while now.


    <strong>Quest: New Brew Part 6/10</strong>


    The dwarves need your help. Influence 100,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.


    Influence: 74,324/100,000


    Reward: [Carbonate]


    ept Quest?


    [Yes] /No


    As I watched, the Lord handed a mug to Tania.


    ¡°Thank you, my Lord. I¡¯ve been wanting one of these, but my adventuring in Green Tree kept me from obtaining one. They¡¯re always sold out!¡± She said cheerfully.


    The number ticked up to 74,325.


    <i>HOLY SHIT!</i>


    I¡¯d been wondering why nobody knew about radlers! It was because a certain Whitle<i>rat</i> had been selling <i>my</i> pilsner ss!


    The Lord continued down the line and handed a ss to Emerelda. She smiled and nodded, but this time the counter didn¡¯t tick up. She wasing to the after party, so I¡¯d ask her more about it there. If my suspicions were correct, I may have just discovered another avenue that I could extort - I mean collect - gold from.


    ¡ª


    I strode towards the Thirsty Goat alongside Rumbob, Beatbox, Emerelda, Tania, Chuck, and Jim. The pro drinkers were a great crowd, and we had some wonderful discussions about the future ofpetitive drinking as we left the stadium. Tania and Chuck fit right in, and were overjoyed at having met some fellow drinkers. Jim was a bit sore about my cheap shot to the back of his head, but I exined my experience with Tim and he understood.


    A parade formed behind us as Rumbob walked down Main Street carrying his massive trophy. Word had spread that the <i>champion drinkers</i> of Minnova were headed to the Thirsty Goat for a party. I spent most of the walk chatting with Rumbob, who was apparently a rather well known [Tavernic Matchmaker].


    ¡°Your work is seriously just hooking people up in taverns?¡± My mind fought to connect the enormously rotund and jovial white-haired Rumbob with my internal image of the matchmaker from Mn.


    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting way of puttin¡¯ it.¡± Rumbob thumbed at his fourth chin in thought. ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s about right though.¡±


    ¡°What does that even look like?¡±


    ¡°He grabs their heads, knocks them together and says ¡®Now, KISS!¡¯¡± Beatbox quipped and dodged a yful swat from Rumbob.


    ¡°It¡¯s mostly about puttin¡¯ folks at ease. Find a quiet tavern, sip a few drinks, and then just talk. I do have some Milestones that help too. Got a nice one after I ¡®hooked up¡¯ my thousandth couple!¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be all there is to it.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s also makin¡¯ sure they¡¯ve gotpatible families, and simr expectations. Lotta young folks don¡¯t ask the right questions when they¡¯re fallin¡¯ in love!¡±


    ¡°I can understand that. You need to make sure everyone wants children, and that they put the toilet paper roll the right way up.¡±


    There was some generalughter. Come to think of it, I was probably the youngest person here.


    ¡°Enough about me though.¡± Rumbob¡¯s smile turned cheeky. ¡°Tell me, Pete. How did you get involved with the Goat?¡±


    ¡°I was in the Mine a while back with Annie.¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Ah, a reformed dwarf. Are ya pinin¡¯ over her? I heard your little warcry!¡± He pped me on the back with a guffaw.


    I sweated a bit. Shit, Balin was going to kill me. ¡°She actually got romantically involved with me brother, Balin. I was just copying his warcry.¡±


    Beatbox leaned in and tittered. ¡°That¡¯s going to be a fun little misunderstanding! My daughter is already cheering you on.¡± He pointed to a small crowd of gnomes that were walking in the parade. A mousey-haired gnome girl waved back energetically. ¡°Everyone in the drinkingmunity knows the bashful blonde firebrand Annie Goldstone! Has yer brother been killed by Jeremiah Goldstone yet?¡±


    Rumbob held up his hand. ¡°Let me check, [Sense Connections].¡± After a moment, he nodded. ¡°Yer strongest connection is over by tha Thirsty Goat. Assumin¡¯ that¡¯s him, he¡¯s still alive!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s hard to believe!¡± Emerelda put in. ¡°Do you remember that time Goldstone locked a suitor in a barrel and mailed him out of town?¡±


    ¡°They never proved that!¡± Beatbox chided with mock indignation.


    Oh Gods¡­ Goldstone. I¡¯d dropped a massive party on them with zero warning. I needed to check how much gold we¡¯d made too. First ce had eluded me, but we should have won a fair bit nevertheless. ¡°I need to go check in!¡±


    A massive crowd met us at the entrance to 4th Street. Multiple dwarf standard pic tables lined the streets, and I could see gnomes from the general store helping out as waiters. They were passing out Thirsty Goat beer, as well as cured meats, fish, and other goodies from the store. The crowd roared a wee as we arrived, and Rumbob held up his trophy for everyone to admire.


    ¡°Drinks are on me!¡± He bellowed, as he poured a small pile of mithril into the hands of a shocked gnomess in an apron. She stuttered and then ran back into the brewery. The various dwarves and gnomes cheered their approval and started up a chant of ¡°Rum Tum Rumbob!¡±


    A table was emptied for the champions and we took a seat to much back pping and arm punching. Drinks were brought out and Rumbob led the toast to Crack and Minnova. I begged a moment to go see Goldstone and went to the front door. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and walked in.


    ¡°It¡¯s Pete!!!¡± was the first thing I heard, and I was promptly knocked over by a blue bowling ball.


    What in thaher?


    ¡°Gerroff me, Aqua!¡± I struggled as her beard tickled my nose. *Achoo!!*


    I escaped from Aqua¡¯s smothering hug, and stood up just in time to meet Annie¡¯s eyes. She stood there in a serving apron with her arms folded. Her long blonde waves done up in a style vaguely reminiscent of a certain gctic princess. Penelope stood beside her and *maah*¡¯d a happy greeting.


    ¡°Penelope, go say hello to Pete.¡±


    Penelope came over and nuzzled my knees while I tickled under her chin.


    *meeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°How art thou, fine sir?¡±


    ¡°Good to see you too, Penelope.¡±


    I grinned widely as I looked back at Annie, whose lips were now a thin, frustrated line.


    ¡°Since when were you two such good friends?¡±


    ¡°I¡­. I¡¯m sorry.¡± My smile slipped. ¡°I tried, but I didn¡¯t quite make it. I¡¯m sorry for getting your hopes up.¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding!?¡± Aqua blurted. ¡°Do you know what -¡±


    ¡°WHERE IS HE!?¡± The tall and muscr form of Goldstone burst in from the mess hall. You wouldn¡¯t think something as short as a dwarf could <i>loom</i> but Jeremiah Goldstone certainly could.


    ¡°Er, Mr. Goldstone, I can exin¡­¡± I backed up as he advanced, and winced as his arms went back -


    And then scooped me into a giant bear hug. What?


    ¡°You did it! We¡¯ve nearly sold our whole stock, and Annie brought back enough to keep us running for a couple of months! I¡¯m still going to kill that girl for betting all our money, but you did it!¡±


    What!? I turned an incredulous look over at Annie, and she shrugged and mouthed ¡®top ten¡¯.


    Goldstone continued. ¡°I talked to everyone about it, and we¡¯ve decided that you¡¯re serious enough about this that we can let you into the brewing hall. Heck, you¡¯ve done enough to practically consider you a partner!¡± Goldstone pounded me on the back and roared withughter. ¡°Only practically, though!¡± He gestured to the wooden portal that contained my wildest dreams.


    <i>WHAT</i>!?


    ¡°Do you want to go in?¡± He gave me a mischievous wink.


    <i>WHAT!?!</i><i></i>


    I stared at the door, which just a moment ago had seemed out of reach. I looked at Goldstone and raised my eyebrows in a intive ¡®really¡¯? He waggled his back, ¡®Aye¡¯.


    I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and walked inside.


    ¡ª


    Somewhere else, in a gazebo on a mountaintop, a bearded figurine moved across the board.

 Chapter 50: Pong

    <h4>Chapter 50: Pong</h4>


    ¡°Did you hear something?¡± Beatbox frowned slightly as he looked towards the brewery.


    Rumbob tipped his head and strained his ears. ¡°That high pitched screamin¡¯ sound?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It sounds like my daughter when she sees a particrly good deal on wrenches.¡±


    ¡°Sounds more like Erd¡¯s most excited kettle to me.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯sing from inside the Thirsty Goat. Should we go check it out? Or vacate? They did have something explode herest year.¡±


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine.¡± Rumbob took another sip of his beer. Agh, it was wonderful getting a brew fresh from the brewery. Rumbob liked fizz, and there was a lot of extra fizz the closer you drank to the source. Sadly, it wasn¡¯t too often that breweries threw a party with product straight from the barrel. The earthy and sour vour of Thirsty Goat beerplimented the bitter tang of the grout at the bottom of his mug. Then of course there were the tasty nuts from the general store. Rumbob chewed happily while he watched Emerelda and Tania take part in a boisterous arm-wrestling match.


    This was the first time he didn¡¯t feel ashamed, sitting in public amongst a bunch of other pro drinkers. No worries about snide remarks for ¡®wastin¡¯ tha brew¡¯ or angry mutters about ¡®drinkin¡¯ too fast to enjoy it¡¯. All it had taken was a single word from the King that he wanted the ¡®greatest drinkers in Crack¡¯ topete at the decamillenial. He smiled as his eldest son attempted a bashful conversation with a blushing gnomish waitress. Now there was a match that would have been frowned upon just a scant few millennia ago!


    Rumbob shook his head. Dwarven society needed a bit of spring cleaning. He had noticed more and more young dwarves that were unhappy with the matchmaking system and the current status of the nobility. They wanted to fall in love and for society to damn well keep their noses out! As a matchmaker, he was inclined to agree. Too often, a good match was ruined by a noble who couldn¡¯t keep his hands to himself, or a grandmother that had a bit too much to say about the potential groom¡¯s beard.


    Speaking of change, Rumbob looked over as Pete stumbled out of the brewery, a grin stered to his face. He recognized that smile, but it was usually reserved for the first time a pair held hands. Rumbob quite liked Pete, and he was on a rather meteoric rise within the city. Perhaps his little Tiger would be interested in him? She was partial to dwarves that broke the mold, especially since she started listening to that crazy Raspberrysyrup''s ¡®pop¡¯ music¡­


    ¡°What is the matter, Pete?¡± Jim asked, as Pete stumbled to their table.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­.¡±


    ¡°Gaht somethin¡¯ in yer eye?¡± Chuck chuckled. His ent was very reminiscent of Richter¡¯s deep Nigerian bass.


    ¡°Maybe one of those nipples...¡± Beatbox muttered. Chuck was dressed in the shirtless style of the southern continent, and his bright orange spade beard stood out against the pitch ck of his skin. Chuck grinned wolfishly and flexed his muscr pecs in reply.


    ¡°I¡­ I got into the Brewery.¡± Pete whispered in shock. ¡°Goldstone is letting me on to the brew floor.¡±


    *ho ho ho!* ¡°Congrattions! Did you go inside yet!¡± Rumbob pped the young dwarf on the back. It was always a joy when a dwarf joined the prestigious order of brewers!


    ¡°I did. And then¡­ I got a Milestone!¡± He sounded like he couldn¡¯t quite believe it. ¡°Then Annie kicked me back out and told me to socialize.¡±


    There was a shocked silence at the table for a moment, and then several cheers, both verbal and mug. A new Milestone was always a matter for celebration! It was no Blessing, but it put someone a bit closer to their Specialization!


    *ho ho ho!* ¡°Congrattions! Was it [Bottomless Barrel]?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah. How did you know?¡±


    ¡°A few of my friends have it, there¡¯s a lotta nobs and brewers with it.¡± Rumbob nodded.


    Beatbox leaned into the conversation. ¡°Careful with that one. The beer it makes has to be drunk right away, so you can¡¯t make multiple kegs. It¡¯s meant to ensure you don¡¯t run out of beer at a party.¡± Off to the side, Emerelda and Tania had started a small brawl that was beginning to expand. A grim looking Goldstone walked past carrying a bench. The conversation at the champion table stopped for a minute as several dwarves were politely ¡®given a seat¡¯.


    ¡°The message said I threw a party that got more than five hundred people drunk on my brew at a single party. I think it¡¯s because I¡¯m officially a part of the brewery now? And I threw the party?¡± Pete watched Goldstone stalk back inside with a broken bench. ¡°But Annie and the others did all the work!¡±


    ¡°Aye, but as far as everyone here knows, you threw it m¡¯boy!¡± Rumbob chuckled. ¡°Intent can matter fer Milestones!¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem fair.¡±


    ¡°God¡¯s don¡¯t need ta be fair!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t need to tell me that.¡± Pete muttered darkly, and then drained his mug. A brief look of difort passed on his face, but it quickly reced with joy.


    ¡°Who cares! I¡¯m in! I <i>did it</i>!!!¡± Pete roared, and got up onto the table. ¡°YOU HEAR THAT MINNOVA!!! I DID IT!¡± He roared out to the crowd.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let Goldstone hear that!¡± Someone shot back. There was generalughter and some cat-calling.


    ¡°Ugh, I don¡¯t even care. This calls for some drinking games!¡± Pete spun and looked down at his cadre of new friends and acquaintances. ¡°Who here ys pong?¡±


    He was met with a bevy of confused nces.


    Beatbox was the first to ask the question. ¡°Pong?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°This looks like a waste of beer.¡± Beatbox opined, as he brought another half dozen mugs over.


    I wasn¡¯t allowed back into the brewery until after the party. Annie wanted me to ¡®mingle and drum up more interest¡¯. I could do that, though I was <i>really</i> itching to get onto that brew floor. In the meantime I hadmandeered a table for us to y one of Earth¡¯s most famous drinking games: Beer Pong.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a waste Beatbox, we¡¯re going to be drinking it.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said it was for a game?¡±


    ¡°It <i>is</i> for a game. A drinking game!¡±


    ¡°Drinking isn¡¯t a game.¡± Someone shouted from the curious onlookers.


    ¡°We just came from a drinking <i>tournament </i>ya idjit.¡± Someone else put in.


    ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°Yer head as daft as yer beard? You heard me!¡±


    I ignored the small scuffle that ensued as I exined the rules to everyone else and finished setting up the board.


    ¡°The first thing we need is twenty mugs of beer. We put ten o¡¯ them into a triangle shape at each end of the table.¡± I set up the first set of ten mugs in a style reminiscent of billiards, and then moved on to the other side of the table. ¡°You can see I¡¯ve staggered the cups and left about two thumbs width in between each tankard.¡±


    I looked up to see a crowd of nearly a hundred dwarves and gnomes watching in rapt attention. Good, good. I kept an eye on my quest to influence people with my otherworldly knowledge. I was hoping that drinking games would count as well. It was still ticking up, but no big jumps.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need three willing volunteers to y! Champions?¡± I turned to my table, and an eager Beatbox thrust up a quivering hand. ¡°There¡¯s one. Anyone else?¡±


    Emerelda and Chuck raised their hands, and I pulled them all over to exin the rules. At the same time, a gnomess ran over from the general store with a set of four small wooden balls.


    ¡°Ah, thanks Spruceleaf!¡±


    ¡°You are most wee Peter! It¡¯s on the house from my old man! He says thanks for all the business!¡± The green-haired young woman said brightly, before running off to continue serving tables.


    ¡°I¡¯m always game for games, Pete.¡± Emerelda winked and flexed her fingers. She sported a fresh new ck eye, and her ck garibaldi beard and walrus mustache were smeared with a spot of blood from a cut lip.


    ¡°And ah¡¯m always up far tryin¡¯ samthin¡¯ new!¡± Chuck added. He and Emerelda sized each other up withpetitive grins.


    ¡°Alright then, let¡¯s get this party started. Here are the rules.¡± I handed one ball to each yer. ¡°Beatbox, you and Chuck stand on the other side of the table there. Emerelda, you stand beside me here. Notice that when you stand like this, there is a triangle on the other side of the table with the point facing you.¡±


    ¡°I think I get it! Are we supposed to throw the balls into the mugs on the other side of the table?¡± Beatbox put in.


    ¡°Bingo!¡± I sent a double fingered point his way.


    ¡°What?¡± He scrunched up his brows in puzzlement.


    ¡°Uh, yes. That¡¯s correct.¡±


    ¡°No, what¡¯s Bingo?¡±


    I looked down at the small, middle-aged gnome with grey whiskers and a few liver spots on his receding hairline. ¡®My spotty dog¡¯s name-o¡¯ died on my lips. Thank the gods for thinking before speaking.


    ¡°Just something I like to say when someone is right. It¡¯s just a me thing. Don¡¯t worry about it. Anyways, you were correct! The objective is to toss your ball into the cups on the other side of the table. When you get it in a cup, your opponent needs to drink! The first team to fall unconscious or drink all their cups loses!¡±


    ¡°Clear ta me.¡± Chuck nodded and Emerelda cracked her knuckles as I got ready to take the first shot. A few other tables were set up around us so people could sit and drink while they watched us y, and I saw another table being set up for a second game.


    ¡°Oh, onest thing,¡± I mentioned, as I lined up my throw, ¡°no Milestones, since that would make it too easy.¡± I made azy toss, and the ball spun through the air tond directly to the side of the triangle. Huh, that was odd. I wasn¡¯t an expert at this back home, but I was certainly a semi-pro. How had that missed?


    ¡°Who needs Milestones when you have a high dexterity?¡± Beatbox asked, as he easily flipped his ball into a mug on our side. Emerelda took the drink with a *hmph* and downed it in a single go.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hold me back, Pete!¡± She grumbled, as she easily dunked a ball on her turn.


    I quickly checked my dexterity. It was eleven. Balls. Chuck easilynded his first shot and I took a drink. This was not going to go well.


    y continued back and forth, and after another botch, I managed tond the ball most of the time. More of that ¡®spirit affecting my spark¡¯ as I was beginning to call it. After the first six mugs were drunk on each side, the cups were rearranged into a diamond shape. Beatbox and Chuck started to miss the target a bit more often at that point, and the game became morepetitive. There was even a cheering section!


    Ok, my cheering section may have mostly consisted of *maaahs* but that counts!


    While we waited for Beatbox to go through a pre-throw routine that included asking his wife to kiss his ball (ugh), I turned to Emerelda.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up with the Whistlemugs?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t know about them?¡±


    ¡°I was living in a cave for the past few months. Literally.¡±


    ¡°Ah, right. They¡¯re sold by Whistlemug¡¯s Fineries, and they¡¯ve been real popr.¡±


    ¡°Oh, reaallly?¡± I hissed, like a pissed off cat.


    ¡°Aye, they¡¯re nice and clear so you can see your brew, and the shape makes the bubbly really pop!¡±


    ¡°Dwarves really like the bubbly, huh?¡±


    ¡°Some, well, a lot do.¡±


    ¡°Annie had the right idea then.¡± I tapped my fingers on the table as Chuck got the crowd into a cheering frenzy for Beatbox¡¯s shot.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just thinking.¡±


    We stepped to the side as Beatbox¡¯s shot bounced off the rim of a mug. Emerelda quickly stepped up and unceremoniously took her shot. Itnded square in a mug and the crowd crowed withughter as Beatbox drank it with chagrin.


    I gave a small *heh* as she turned back to me. ¡°Did you already own one, then?¡±


    ¡°Yes. They¡¯re quite expensive, nearly five silver, but I think they¡¯re worth it. Rock collectors are going wild over them!¡±


    That was <i>fifty </i>loonies! And he must have sold tens of thousands! Argh! I needed to see this for myself!


    "Would you be interested in showing me to Whistlemop''s? I''m kind of curious after your description."


    "Oh? <i>You''re</i> askin'' <i>me</i>? That''s new. Sure! I''d love ta!"


    Alright, it was likely that if someone bought a Whistlemug when they already owned one it didn¡¯t affect my quest, but I wanted to make sure. I¡¯d need to do a little testing, but this could be a useful benchmark to check how quests were tabted.


    The game was a massive sess, and soon there were several tables ying. Oh, and we lost. ¡°Sorry, Penelope.¡±


    *mournful maaaaaah* [tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°I don¡¯t understand what is happening, but my disappointment in you is immeasurable and my day is utterly ruined.¡±

 Chapter 51: Through the Door

    <h4>Chapter 51: Through the Door</h4>


    "Three hundred five mugs of beer on the rack, three hundred five mugs of beer! Take one down, swirl it around, three hundred four mugs of beer on the rack!"


    If dishes were wishes, I¡¯d own this whole damn brewery.


    Pick up the mug, rinse the mug in scalding hot water, look for the soap.


    Fail to find the soap. Because apparently, DWARVES DON¡¯T USE SOAP!


    Put the mug on the drying rack and move to the next mug.


    The party had ended sometime around noon the next day. Pong was a big hit, and I was slightly bothered that it didn¡¯t count towards my otherworldly beer knowledge quest. At around five in the morning, thest beer from the brewery got hit with my new Milestone every time it came off cooldown.


    <strong>[Bottomless Barrel]</strong>


    You can touch a container that contains no more than forty-eight liters of non-magical liquid and grant it a touch of infinity. For the next one minute, any drink you pour out of it does not reduce the liquid level. If the liquid is not poured into an appropriate container or imbibed within the next twenty-four minutes, it disappears.


    You can use this ability once per hour.


    It was super neat and an absolute <i>joy</i> to use. I¡¯ve had fun with my Milestones and Blessings, and they¡¯ve even saved my life, but this Milestone was the first one I had earned the normal way. And it felt the most <i>me</i> out of everything I¡¯ve received on Erd.


    I could touch a bottle of Roman¨¦e Conti red wine, pour it out to a dozen people, and never use a drop of wine in the bottle. I imagined my expensive alcohol collection back on Earth, with its forty-year-old whiskeys, rare wines, and specialty craft beers. A skill like this would have allowed me to share those delicacies and still have a full bottle!


    It was a shame that opening a bottle was a countdown to destruction for the drink within. Uncorking introduced oxygen to the drink, which allowed for an oxidization reaction to ur. It was the exact same process that created rust, with a simr oue. The vour would slowly be destroyed, and in some cases, all that was left after oxidation was pure vinegar. I could use a trick involving a nitrogen filled barrel, but there was no guarantee nitrogen even existed here. Then again, it would be a bit too much of a cheat to open a bottle, use [Bottomless Barrel] and then re-bottle it with no possible downside.


    I paused in the middle of cing a mug on the rack. Wait.. could I actually do that re-bottle trick? I popped open my character sheet. As I did, a few ¡®failed quest¡¯ notifications popped up. One was expected, but the next was a surprise.


    <strong>Championship Road Part 2/2 Failed! </strong><strong></strong>


    Looks like you hit a speed bump on the road to sess.


    Requirement: Enter the top 3


    Reward: None


    <strong>Quest: An Ore-Able Time Part 3/10 Failed!</strong>


    You don¡¯t n on mining ever again. Some dwarf.


    Collect: 140.7/400 Tonnes of Ore


    Reward: None


    Failing Ore-Able time was a surprise. I was used to taking a hundred quests and letting them sit on the backburner; the thought one would simply fail on its own had never urred to me.


    It did make sense. Now that I was officially in the brewery, I wasn''t ever going toplete that quest. It was a massive, subconscious, ''abort quest'' in my soul. Ore-Able Time had probably been one of Tiara¡¯s quests? Sorry, yer worship!


    Onto my milestones! Let''s see if they had what I was looking for.


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong>


    Name: Peter Phillips Samson Roughtuff Age: 49


    Conditions: Tired


    Race: Dwarf


    Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration]


    Title: [Alchemist]


    Milestones: [Outworlder], [Power Pick], [Ingredient Scan], [Stabilize Mixture], [Basic sh], [Bottomless Barrel]


    Strength 15.2


    Vitality 17.3


    Agility 11


    Dexterity 11


    Wisdom 14


    Intelligence 12


    Perception 15.1


    Charisma 12


    Yep, there it was. I popped open [Stabilize Mixture] and gave it a read through.


    <strong>[Stabilize Mixture]</strong>


    You are able to make an unstable mixture reach perfect equilibrium. It will no longer react violently unless you force it to do so.


    You can use this ability once per minute.


    Would that allow me to keep a drink from being oxidized? The Milestone seemed to have two parts. The second part was clearly focused on explosives, but the first part specified ¡®allowing an unstable mixture to reach perfect equilibrium.¡¯ Oxidization was essentially an instability within the alcohol. If I re-corked a drink, could I use [Stabilize Mixture] to prevent it from going bad? I <i>HAD</i> to check. I may have just discovered the first synergy in my skills! Who doesn¡¯t love cool synergies?


    Sure, it wasn¡¯t big or fancy, or freaking magic, but <i>unlimited expensive alcohol with no downsides</i>!! I almost dropped a mug before I re-focused my attention. Some experimentation could wait; Annie was letting me on the brewery floor as soon as the dishes were done. At least I was better off than poor Balin, who was going to be fixing tables outside till next week.


    "Three hundred mugs of beer on the rack, three hundred mugs of beer! Take one down, swirl it around, two hundred ny nine mugs of beer on the rack!"


    ¡ª


    ¡°And, here it is!¡± Annie swung open the door and let me onto the brew room floor. I had been inside for a brief, incredible moment yesterday, but now I had the time to fully appreciate it. I took a deep sniff and the scent of boiled wort and musty malt assailed my nostrils. I closed my eyes and thought back to my first brewing room.


    ¡ª


    Caroline¡¯s cheerfulugh echoed in therge, mostly empty warehouse. ¡°Ha! I can see under my skirt on the floor. Why is it so shiny?¡±


    ¡°Careful! You¡¯ll slip, and I don¡¯t want to spend the next eight hours in Emerg!¡± I glowered in mock disapproval.


    *bleh* Caroline stuck her tongue out at me. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, worrywart.¡±


    ¡°I''m not worried about <i>you</i>.¡± I walked over to pat her burgeoning belly. ¡°Is our little girl kicking yet?¡±


    ¡°Mmmm,¡± Caroline closed her eyes and leaned her head into my shoulder, ¡°not yet. The doctor says it¡¯ll be soon though.¡±


    We stood there for a moment until Caroline pulled away. ¡°You¡¯re avoiding the question, why does the floor of our brewery look like an ice rink?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ It cost a bit extra, but I got the concrete sealed. With all the spills in a brewery, we want to keep the concrete floor from staining or cracking, so I had them put epoxy over top.¡±


    ¡°Was it expensive?¡±


    ¡°A little, but we need it to be up to code anyway.¡±


    ¡°Keep to the code?¡±


    ¡°Arrr, that¡¯s right, me hearty!¡±


    The two of us shared a hug as we gazed upon the gleaming rows of fermentation tanks in Beavermoose brewery.


    ¡ª


    That damn floor had been way too expensive, but had also been so wonderfully easy to clean. It was the first thing that came to mind as I looked out over the brew room floor here. The dirty, dirty, brew room floor. There was mud caked in ces from spilled beer mixed with dirt, and while it certainly wasn¡¯t a pigsty, it was nothing like the pristinely clean brewery I remembered. I knew that dwarves weren¡¯t that big into hygiene, but this was a bit ridiculous.


    The floor was an enormous b of grimy, off-yellow granite, while the dusty walls were made of abination of wood and stone. A warm yellow light shone down from several solstones set in the rafters. Arge brick firece with a chimney up to the ceiling sat beneath a copper-bottom boiling tank at the center of the room. The pungy aroma of coal smoke added to the various earthy scents wafting through the space.


    Still, even with the slight patina of dirt and grease on everything, it was the most beautiful thing I¡¯d seen in this life. Most of the usual brewing equipment was there, alongside rows upon rows of barrels and kegs. A few things were missing, but I could fix that soon enough. Thankfully, all the equipment was clearly well maintained and in top shape.


    There were three other dwarves hard at work and they all looked over as we entered. There was the braided viking John, and his pretty-boy son Johnsson, alongside the massive Richter. They were busy levering arge wooden trough from the boiling kettle to one of the many open-topped fermentation tanks. Looks like I¡¯d guessed right about the open air tanks. Score one for Pete.


    Annie cleared her throat for attention, ¡°Ahem, we have decided that Pete is going to join us on the brew room floor.¡±


    There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Johnsson gave a hoot and a holler.


    ¡°That¡¯s great! Wee to the family Pete!¡± He came over and gave me a pound on the shoulder. He was covered in sweat and grime from a day of hardbour, and he positively <i>exuded</i> ''thank the Gods, someone my age'' energy.


    ¡°Thanks Johnsson, it¡¯s great to finally be a part of this <i>brew</i>haha!¡± I gave him a friendly pound back. He looked confused for a moment, though John gave a small snort from where he was locking the trough into ce.


    Richter came over and shook my hand.


    ¡°I sah ya workin¡¯ ¡®ard wit tha priss, ya?¡±


    ¡°Priss? Do you mean Penelope? She¡¯s not that bad!¡±


    ¡°Yer brudda¡¯s in love wit¡¯ tha biggest troublemaker in Minnova. I tink tha Roughtuff n ¡®as a ting fer punishment.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me!?¡± Annie protested as the rest of usughed. Her cheeks grew more and more crimson as theughter grew until she finally pulled back a fist and swung at Richter. He deftly dodged with the grace of long practice, and her punch connected squarely on theughing face of Johnsson. He went down with a squawk, and the rest of usughed harder.


    Annie turned to me, her eyes promising murder. ¡°Do you want me to show you around, or should I leave you with these louts? Maybe we could go wash more dishes?¡±


    I stoppedughing and stood to attention. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am! No ma¡¯am!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. The rest of you, we have tworge orders to fulfill within the month, and <i>someone</i> just emptied out all our stock! We need those three batches done by tonight! Pete bought us a few months, don¡¯t waste it!¡±


    Johnsson and Richter scrambled back to work, though John took his time. He gave me a wink as he passed. He struck me as the silent and thoughtful typepared to Jeremiah Goldstone''s jolly giant.


    ¡°Alright Pete, let me show you around. I will remind you that all of this is confidential." Annie''s voice carried a tinge of warning. "The methods of beer creation are a secret passed down from generation to generation, and jealously guarded by the traditional brewing families and the Honourable Guild of Brewers.¡±


    ¡°Oh, those guys? They seem a bit¡­ uh¡­¡±


    ¡°Set in their ways?¡± Annie sighed, ¡°Don¡¯t I know it. You said you know a bit of brewing?¡±


    ¡°That would be correct.¡± And an understatement.


    ¡°Can you tell me what everything in here does?¡± She waved her hand around the room.


    ¡°Absolutely, but is this your tour or mine?¡± I waggled my eyebrows.


    ¡°Humour me. Balin said some stuff that has me curious, but he ms up whenever I push.¡±


    Uh oh. That wasn¡¯t good. Communication issues like that could be a problem in a rtionship, and I was the direct cause. Well, Annie had let me into the heart of her family, so maybe we could let her into the Roughtuff n¡¯s.


    ¡°Let me talk a bit with Balin.¡±


    ¡°Does it have something to do with your ¡®amnesia¡¯?¡± I could practically <i>feel</i> the air quotes in her voice and winced a bit. Yeah, that excuse had been wearing thin recently.


    ¡°Sort of. I promise it¡¯ll make sense.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Do you want to do the honours?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    We dodged out of the way as Richter walked by carrying a giant bag full of Erdroot. He dumped it into a metal hopper and went to get another sack.


    I pointed to the hopper. ¡°That there is the grist mill, and it¡¯s where you mill the Erdroot into malt.¡± The hopper dropped into arge grinder, and Johnsson got to work turning a crank nearly as tall as he was.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. We get most of our Erdroot from local farms, but it¡¯s gotten a lot more expensive. The price dropped back down recently, but that may notst for long.¡±


    ¡°Do you take turns on the crank?¡±


    ¡°No, Johnsson does most of it since he¡¯s the youngest. I think he¡¯s looking forward to giving someone else a chance.¡± She grinned maliciously.


    ¡°Um.¡±


    ¡°What about this?¡± Annie directed me to a pair ofrge apparatuses. One was the copper-bottom boiling tank and firecebo while the other was arge wooden barrel. They were nearly thrice my height and equally as wide. They were empty at the moment, though I could see leftover bits of gunk inside. A ramp led up to sturdy scaffolding constructed around the two barrels, and aplex series of pipes ran back and forth between them. John was busy shoveling coal into the firece.


    ¡°Easy enough. You put all the milled malt into that wooden barrel, which is the mash tun. Next, you boil water in the copper brew kettle beside it. Then you pipe the hot water into the mash tun to make your wort.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s all correct.¡± Annie¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And all ssified. I need you to have that conversation with Balin about your amnesia sooner rather thanter.¡±


    ¡°I will, I promise.¡± I pointed to an enormous wooden spoon up on the scaffold. ¡°Who stirs the mash?¡±


    ¡°Richter mostly. He¡¯s tall enough and strong enough for it. My dad used to do it before, and then Richter¡¯s father.¡±


    ¡°What happened to Richter¡¯s father?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to ask him.¡± Annie said coolly. Oops, some kind of history there. I pointed back at the copper tank.


    ¡°Next, you pump the wort back into the brew kettle, where you boil it for a few hours. During this phase you add some vours and bittering agents.¡±


    ¡°Correct again. Do you happen to know what we use?¡± She asked sweetly, but I could sense the slightly bitter undertones. It was clear that the secret ingredients were a touch more sensitive than everything else.


    ¡°No idea.¡± I shrugged. I left the ''they suck though'', unsaid.


    She sighed in relief. ¡°Well, that¡¯s something at least. Dad buys the ingredients and puts them into sacks.¡± She pointed to a series of brown bup bags lying against the scaffolding. ¡°You¡¯ll just dump it into the boil, so don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    ¡°Aww, not even a clue?¡±


    ¡°No, we need to keep <i>some</i> things secret.¡±


    ¡°Fiiiine.¡± I whined, petntly. ¡°After you boil the wort, it gets filtered through the hopback and chilled before it goes into one of the fermentation tanks. Or it should, but I don¡¯t see any equipment for that. Thest step is to add some yeast and wait.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a hopback?¡± Annie asked. ¡°You¡¯re mostly right, but we don¡¯t chill the wort, it just gets pumped through those troughs into the fermentation tanks to cool.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s the no-chill method. And no hopback? That exins <i>so</i> much.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Annie asked as her eyes gleamed with curiosity. That¡¯s right, Annie was a rebel who believed there could be a better way to make beer. Well, two could y the ¡®mysterious secrets¡¯ game.


    ¡°I''ll tell you, but you need to do something for me first.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Annie folded her arms in the universal ¡®I¡¯m about to deny your silly request¡¯ pose.


    ¡°Get me a pair of mops and buckets and I¡¯ll tell you while we work.¡±


    Her arms fell to her side in confusion. ¡°Why mops and buckets?¡±


    I looked around me and said, ¡°Because if there¡¯s anything I¡¯ve learned recently, it¡¯s that all good things in this world start with cleaning up shit.¡±

 Chapter 52: The Brewing of Yeasteryear

    <h4>Chapter 52: The Brewing of Yeasteryear</h4>


    ¡°Why the long face?¡± I asked, as I pushed the mop around the dirty floor. I couldn¡¯t really say I was cleaning; it was more like I was artistically moving mud around.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ still digesting what Balin told me.¡± Annie said, her eyes a little hollow. Her golden tresses and silky beard were wrapped up ins, and we were both in grubby leather work-armour.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you. I was talking to Penelope. Do you want a goat treat, princess? Who¡¯s the only clean thirsty goat in Minnova? You are!¡± I rubbed her head and presented the aforementioned treat.


    *maaaah!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Your obeisance is eptable, knight.¡±


    Annie slopped some water in my direction, but it was half-hearted. John, Johnsson, and Richter did their level best to ignore us. They were a bit busy making beer as fast as they could, so their distraction was understandable.


    Theirck of hygiene was less so.


    ¡°Pete¡­ were you -¡± Annie began with a note of trepidation.


    ¡°Ixnay on the ebornray ewerbray.¡± I interrupted.


    ¡°What? By Midna¡¯s Mullet, so much about you makes sense now.¡±


    ¡°Am I supposed to take that as apliment?¡± I leaned seductively on my mop and blinked my eyes coquettishly. I¡¯d tried this move in the mirror a while back, because¡­ well because I was curious. It turned out that dwarves can <i>indeed</i> do coquette, though it¡¯s kind of like getting assaulted by a barbershop.


    ¡°Ugh, never do that again.¡±


    ¡°You know you like it.¡± I flexed my biceps.


    ¡°I¡¯m marrying your brother.¡±


    ¡°That poor soul. I tried to warn him.¡±


    ¡°Excuse you!? You tried to warn him about what!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say! You¡¯ll mop the floor with me!¡± I covered my face with my arms in faux fear.


    ¡°I swear to the Gods, if you utter one more pun within this building I¡¯ll -¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll pun-ish me?¡±


    The rest devolved into soap suds and screaming. Only some of it from the goat.


    ¨C


    ¡°There. Done.¡± Annie stretched her back and sighed with relief.


    ¡°It¡¯s eptable.¡± I nodded. We¡¯d mopped, dusted, cleaned, buffed, and then done it again. It had taken a whole day and a half, but we were finally done. The building practically gleamed.


    ¡°By the Gods!¡± Johnsson screamed as he slid across the shiny floor and smashed into some barrels.


    ¡°Yep! Looks great. We¡¯ll need non-slip footwear though.¡± I pursed my lips.


    ¡°I can see that.¡± Annie mused. Richter had gone to help Johnsson up, and slid into him instead. The two of them now looked like a pair of penguins trying to polka on ice. ¡°Now that we¡¯re done, do you care to exin why I just wasted a whole day being a maid?¡±


    ¡°Because Balin has a thing for maids?¡± I deadpanned.


    Annie sputtered and blushed. Hah! Got ¡®er!


    ¡°No, you idiot. Why was this such a big deal? I was only willing to go along with it because of what Balin told me, and I¡¯m still not sure I can believe half of it.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ there¡¯s a limit on what I¡¯m okay tellin¡¯ you here.¡± I nodded in the direction of the iling duo.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, what can you tell me?¡±


    ¡°Well, it alles down to how you ferment your beer.¡± I took off my shoes and walked along the floor towards the fermentation tanks. ¡°Take off your shoes guys. Just go barefoot for now.¡±


    Johnsson and Richter looked a bit chagrined as they untangled themselves and removed their shoes.


    ¡°Aarons Arse, this is goin¡¯ to be ungodly hot on my toes next to the oven.¡± Johnssonined.


    ¡°You¡¯ll survive.¡± His father said, as he carried over arge bag of coal. ¡°Or would you rather be back on crank duty?¡±


    ¡°Nah, my back needs a day off. Toasty toes are fine.¡±


    Annie and I found a somewhat secluded spot among the fourteen fermentation tanks. They were a sight to see; each square tank a two metre tall open-top wooden structure with a copper liner. The copper was all quite shiny, and I was again taken aback at how dwarves seemed to treat maintenance so seriously, while they outright ignored sanitation.


    The fermentation tanks were something to smell too, as they had a pretty pungent aroma. About half of them were full, and two were nearingpletion. I could tell by the crusty whiteyer on top. It kind of looked and smelled like a four square metre b of cream cheese gently floating on a bubbly pond.


    I waited a moment to ensure the three droppers of eaves were busy with their work before I began my exnation. I was almost giddy with joy; I was finally talking shop with another brewer. This was my first step on the path to introducing dwarf-kind to brew mastery of the craft!


    Annie poked me in the side. ¡°Why do you have that silly smile on your face? Are we starting, or what?¡±


    ¡°Right, right.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°To start, how many of your batches fail? One in three? One in four?¡±


    Annie frowned. ¡°About one in four. How did you know that?¡±


    ¡°An educated guess.¡± I pulled over arge wooden step-stool and climbed up so I could see into the tank. As Annie joined me, I pointed to the white scum on top of the beer. ¡°You are using what my world refers to as the open-fermentation method. It was used for millennia, and it has some rather severe limitations.¡±


    ¡°What limitations? Wait, you said ¡®used¡¯! Does that mean you found another way?¡± Annie¡¯s eyes grew brighter. I was struck. I hadn¡¯t realised until just now how much energy and intelligence had beencking in her demeanour. I guess the stress of nearly losing the brewery and the inability to experiment on her brewing had taken its toll.


    ¡°Yes, and you actually had the right solution.¡± I smiled at her and softened my tone. ¡°Annie. You weren¡¯t wrong. There was a better way.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Tears welled up in her eyes, and she banished them with an aggressive wipe of her armoured forearm. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this. What limitations?¡±


    ¡°It alles down to yeast.¡± I shrugged at the segue and continued.


    ¡°Yeast?¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡± I pointed back at the white scum on top of the tank. ¡°Yeast! Your brews keep failin¡¯ ¡®cause of a yeast infection!¡±


    ¡°Yuck, what? Beer is made from yeast, why would it infect it? That sounds disgusting.¡± Annie gagged slightly.


    ¡°You¡¯re right in some ways and wrong in others.¡± I grabbed a smalldle from a nearby hook and scooped up some of the white scum. It burbled slightly in thedle and Annie leaned in to examine it. ¡°Yeast is a single-celled fungus that likes to eat stuff. In the case of our lovely tanks of wort here, it wants ta eat the sugar inside. It turns that sugar into alcohol as well as carbon dioxide. That¡¯s what¡¯s makin'' all the bubbles.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know all that.¡± Annie said, as she poked the contents of thedle with her finger. It jiggled slightly, and popped.


    ¡°I figured, let me pontificate here.¡± I chided in my best professorial tone. My wife always hated that tone; she said I was beersining. ¡°In open-top brewing like this, ayer of yeast forms on top of the wort, providing a slight seal against the elements. It isn¡¯t perfect obviously, since the bubbles eventually push up through.¡±


    ¡°Johnsson once had a whole chunk pop up onto his face when he was checking progress.¡± Annie chortled.


    ¡°Hah! Well, in my world - ¡° I stopped short. ¡°I can¡¯t keep calling it ¡®my world¡¯ since this is my world now. My old world was called Earth.¡±


    ¡°Earth? What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means dirt.¡±


    "Erd means dirt too, do all worlds name their after dirt?¡± Annie asked incredulously.


    Wow, d¨¦j¨¤ vu.


    ¡°On <i>Earth</i>,¡± I continued, ¡°this white goop is called Kr?usen and it¡¯s an important ingredient in open-top brewing.¡± I dumped the contents of thedle back into the tank and held it out at arms length. ¡°This spoon tells me that it¡¯s pretty much the same here. After the hot wort is poured into a fermentation tank, you let it cool, and then skim some of the Kr?usen into it from another tank.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Annie nodded.


    ¡°We call that top-cropping. Not to be confused with crop-topping, which is what we call it when a daughter utterly disappoints her father.¡±


    ¡°We call it ¡®Ancestral Seed¡¯ because -¡±


    ¡°Oh hell naw. Ew, stop.¡± It was my turn to gag.


    ¡°What? It¡¯s a perfectly natural -¡±


    ¡°No! You¡¯re ruining it! Stop it! Stahp! I beg you!¡±


    ¡°By the <i>Gods, </i>you are such a child!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only fourty nine! Am I exining this or not!?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    I mentally and physically shook myself and took a deep breath. ¡°Before I was so horrifically interrupted, I was talking about top-cropping. The massive benefit of using Kr?usen is that you can skip the yeast-washing step.¡±


    ¡°What is yeast-washing? I thought we were discussing limitations, not benefits.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting there, patience my young padawan.¡± Annie looked like she was about to say ¡®what¡¯ but clenched her jaw instead. I cleared some space in the Kr?usen and stirred with my spoon. The amber brown liquid was quickly filled with fine specks of debris. ¡°This sediment is called ¡®trub¡¯, and it¡¯s made from bits of dead yeast called ¡®lee¡¯ as well as leftover bits and pieces from the bittering agents you boiled into the - is that a stick?¡±


    Yes indeed, a stick had bobbed up to the top of the wort. Annie reached in and grabbed it before I could react and tossed it down to the ground. ¡°Yes, don¡¯t worry about it. You don¡¯t need to know the secret ingredients.¡±


    ¡°That was a stick! And we just finished cleaning that floor!¡±


    ¡°Continue.¡±


    ¡°Ugh. Actually, yeast washing isn¡¯t important, but that stick is part of why your brews keep failing. It¡¯s because there is yeast <i>everywhere</i>, and the horrific state of this brewery means that a lot of foreign yeasts are contaminating your brews.¡±


    ¡°What? How? The only yeast we put in is the Ancestral See-¡± Annie frowned.


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± I put my finger up in a shushing motion and widened my eyes.


    Annie rolled her eyes. ¡°The only yeast we put in is the ¡®Kr?usen¡¯. How are other yeasts getting in?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I saw Johnsson spit into one of these tanks earlier.¡± I''d been ready to murder him.


    ¡°It¡¯s for good luck!¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s adding the yeast from his spit into the brew. Yeast is also able to get airborne, and it can stick to all the various contaminants that were in here. All that dust we took off the rafters? It had yeast in it, and I can guarantee it was getting blown into these tanks. All that mud? It had yeast in it, and then it got on your clothes, onto your hands, and then into the wort. The junk stuck to your unwashed brewing kettle? It had yeast in it!¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Annie¡¯s eyebrows drew together in concentration. ¡°We can keep everything washed. We always figured the boiling was sufficient for sanitisation, and we didn¡¯t want to contaminate the taste with soap.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ no, you¡¯d want to use a food-grade sanitiser. I suspect we will need to talk to an [Alchemist].¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you an -¡±


    ¡°Wrong alchemist.¡±


    ¡°If the yeast is airborne¡­ I can think of a few ways to keep the air clean in here¡­. I need my sketchbook.¡± Annie¡¯s fingers began to tap on the side of the tank, and I recognized the far off look of a nerd deep in thought. ¡°How will we know if it worked?¡±


    ¡°Well, for one thing, you aren¡¯t going to get a good Kr?usen on a contaminated beer. So if you¡¯ve got a good Kr?usen, you know the beer yeast is thriving.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense. We call beer without it, ¡®bastard beer¡¯, because the Ancestral Seed di-¡±


    ¡°I got it! I got it!¡± I held my hands over my ears and Annie grinned wolfishly. Damn, she got me. ¡°The long and short of it is that if you want to improve the quality of your beer and reduce waste, this brew floor needs to be clean and sanitised at every step, and <i>kept</i> that way.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s going to be expensive.¡±


    ¡°More or less expensive than the wasted batches? Besides, theck of contaminating yeasts means that your beer will probably <i>taste</i> better too. All without breaking any <i>traditions</i>.¡± I practically purred thest sentence, and Annie twitched a bit. Yeah, I figured that would be the right button to press.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with following the traditions!¡± Annie replied, but her heart wasn¡¯t in it.


    ¡°But think of the possibilities! So many ways to improve your beer. I can help you with your tank designs. I know a way of using the environmental yeasts to make special mbic¡¯ beers.¡±


    ¡°No! You will not tempt me, minion of Yearn!¡± Annie jumped off the stepstool and began to walk back to the entrance. I stalked after.


    ¡°They¡¯ll call you the ¡®second brewer¡¯ and all will know the name Goldstone.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not listening!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll teach you the secret of stouts, and the process for porters. Take my hand Annie Goldstone, and I¡¯ll - ¡°


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to break up this family tiff, but we are out of Erdroot and we are busy with the current batch.¡± We were interrupted by John, who didn¡¯t look sorry at all, and was in fact grinning. ¡°Would you two please take your conversation to the market and obtain us some more?¡±


    Annie and I stopped, a bit flustered. We turned and looked at each other.


    ¡°Sure?¡±

 Chapter 53: The Grand Market

    <h4>Chapter 53: The Grand Market</h4>


    ¡°[Ingredient Scan: Hops]¡± I looked around the market, but nothing really ¡®pinged¡¯ in my vision. Sigh, another bust.


    ¡°You do know that you don¡¯t need to say a Milestone out loud to use it, right?¡± Annie remarked as she checked out some produce, frowned, and tossed it aside. ¡°Ugh, this one is rotten. How can you sell rotten food like that? Do I need toin to city hall?¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°My cabbages!¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey Gimbletack! How are you doing?¡±


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] ¡°I assume you will pay for that wasted produce you lovely youngsters!¡±


    ¡°What did you say about my mother!?¡± Annie balled up her fists and moved in. I grabbed her cor and dragged her away. She had a higher strength, so it was a bit of a struggle, but I had better leverage. I tossed a few coppers to Gimbletack and waved goodbye.


    ¡°Just ignore the cantankerous old gnome, Annie. The best vengeance will be outliving him.¡±


    ¡°By Lunara¡¯s Lace I don¡¯t think so! I¡¯m reporting him for substandard vegetable produce the first chance I get!¡±


    I paused, ¡°Is that actually a thing?¡±


    ¡°City of Minnova Ordinances, Chapter -¡± Annie began in a huff, but I cut her off.


    ¡°Of course it is. Why do you even know that?¡±


    Annie squared her shoulders proudly. ¡°I memorized all the ordinances that are rted to food or drink. I wanted to make sure nothing we did at the Goat could run afoul of cityw.¡±


    I pped. ¡°Good fer you! I never really bothered learning all thews and ordinances back when I owned my ownpany.¡±


    Annie¡¯s face was a rictus of horror. ¡°How could you not know thews!?¡±


    ¡°They were more what you¡¯d call ¡®guidelines¡¯ than actualw.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare tell my father that.¡± Annie hissed. ¡°He¡¯d have you out of the brewery faster than you could say ¡®I¡¯m a reincarnated master brewer.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Nah, Balin and I are a packaged set, and he loves Balin.¡± I looked around, quizzically. ¡°Speaking of Balin, where did he go?¡±


    ¡°He needs to get his saws sharpened. They got a bit dull while he was in prison, and all the woodworkingtely chipped one of the teeth.¡± Annie pointed to an open-air cksmith just down the street. ¡°He¡¯s over there.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s go get him. I¡¯m not carrying a dozen sacks of erdroot by myself.¡±


    We trekked down one of the four main streets that demarcated the Grand Market Square of Minnova. Said market was a literal square about four blocks wide and long, with an open central za. City Hall was a towering edifice to one side, with the Cathedral of the Gods at the other. A uniform series of shop-fronts lined the outer street and the central za was a massivebined bazaar and farmer¡¯s market. The enormous light crystal that lit the entire cavern hung directly over the market and bathed everything in a soft lc light. The effect was magical, and that didn¡¯t even take into ount the literal magic on disy everywhere.


    Annie had exined the politics of the Grand Market on the trip here, and it was like nothing back on Earth. The major guilds and businesses all had the opportunity to bid on a spot at the market each year. They didn¡¯t bid anything as simple as gold, oh no; they bid a percent tax on all the goods they sold within the Grand Market. The highest bidders got the fancy physical storefronts on the main street. The losers had to sit out with the traveling traders and local farmers in the za, but <i>still had to pay their bid taxes</i>.


    The result? The Market was cut-throat, andpanies could and would go under if they over-bid, but the possible profits were monstrous. Everybody shopped in the Grand Market, and there were nearly a million people in this city. A sewer system, healers, and a high vitality had kept the poption from getting wiped out by gue, while underground housing had kept living space from bing an issue. Back in its heyday even old London only had around half a million residents.


    Suffice it to say, the ce was packed, noisy, smelly, and amazing. The scent of spices and sweets and smoke and sweat was intoxicating, and I had to physically hold myself back from a stall selling some kind of zed meatbun. When an odd amalgam of steel and bones walked by, I pointed it out with excitement.


    ¡°Is that a golem?¡±


    Annie looked it over. ¡°Yes, a fairly standard porter type.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing! Why don¡¯t <i>we</i> have a golem? It would beat lugging sacks and barrels and erdroot around ourselves!¡±


    ¡°We used to¡­¡± Annie¡¯s voice was chagrined. Oops! Landmine!


    ¡°Uh¡­ what¡¯s that!¡± I pointed at a flurry of motion overhead. A series of what looked like electrical streamers were whizzing by. They covered nearly every colour of the rainbow, and looking at them made my soul itch in my eyes. I blinked and rubbed at my eyelids vigorously. ¡°Argh! What in Midna¡¯s mullet <i>are </i>those!?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re spirits, summoned by a [Summoner] and contracted to perform tasks. They¡¯re good for scouting andmunicating, and they can possess and animate small objects. Those ones are probably looking over the bazaar for any interesting goods. Don¡¯t look at them too long, you¡¯ll hurt your spirit. They¡¯re almost as expensive as the golems.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t need to tell me that.¡± I looked away and noticed a kiosk in the za that was selling runestones. ¡°Ooooh, I should buy some. I¡¯m rich now!¡± I started to walk over and Annie grabbed my sleeve.


    ¡°What?¡± She was shaking her head, her visage a bit grim.


    Then I remembered. Balin and I had given all our gold to the brewery, and I hadn¡¯t gotten any more money from the city for my boomdust yet. I waspletely broke.


    ¡°<i>noooooooooo</i>¡± I raged quietly as Annie dragged me over to a shop with a sign that dered it to be ¡°Battlehammer Battlegear and cksmith¡±.


    I begged to stay outside. While the inside of a dwarven forge was certainly <i>interesting</i>, I was pretty sure I¡¯d just seen a miniature dragon walk by. Besides, you¡¯ve seen one fantasy dwarf forge in an MMO, you¡¯ve seen them all. Plus, they were really hot.


    ¡°Do you promise not to wander off?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°Absolutely. Cross my heart and hope to die.¡±


    ¡°What kind of weird oath demands wishing for death.¡± Annie murmured as she went in to fetch her beau.


    I stayed outside and cooled my heels for a while. I yed a little ¡®spot the human¡¯ while I waited. I¡¯d seen four so far today: two elderly men, a young woman, and an armoured adventurer. That was when something in a nearby alley caught my attention.


    ¡°Ooh, what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°I cannae believe that was so expensive!¡± Balin grumbled. ¡°Outrageous prices! It woulda cost half that back in me own town.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re the best, and you paid extra for fast service.¡± Annie shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t want you using substandard tools, that¡¯s how injuries happen.¡± She petered off. ¡°I should know.¡±


    Balin gave her a soft look and took her hand in his. ¡°Yer makin¡¯ tha most of it. The brewery is gettin¡¯ back on track, and it¡¯s lookin¡¯ more¡¯n more like tha person ya need forgiveness from tha most, is you.¡±


    Annie sighed, and nuzzled her beard into Balin¡¯s armored shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re right Balin. I just.. worry that I¡¯ll mess everything up again.¡±


    ¡°Nah, yer tha Annie Goldstone that made the new lubricant being used by half the mines in Minnova.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true. It¡¯s a shame it wasn¡¯t more valuable.¡± Annie turned to look around them and frowned. ¡°Where¡¯s Pete?¡±


    ¡°Where did ya leave him?¡±


    ¡°Right there, Gods, he promised -¡±


    ¡°Hey guys!¡±


    ¡°AHH!¡± The two of them cried out and spun around. ¡°PETE!¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± I stepped back in shock.


    ¡°You said you wouldn¡¯t move!¡± Annie pointed her finger usingly. Balin was taking big, angry gulps of air.


    ¡°I¡¯m a stranger in a strangend, not a child. Besides, I¡¯m still here.¡± I pouted a bit. Where was the trust?


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Annie¡¯s shoulders dropped in defeat. ¡°What do you have there?¡± She pointed to a sheet of paper in my hand.


    ¡°Oh, yeah! I found it in the alley over there, it - ¡±


    ¡°Ah, Annie Goldstone is it not?¡± A voice interrupted us from behind and we turned to see a grumble of dwarves in traditional leather and chain-mail. Their beards were all simrly done up in knotwork I was beginning to recognize as the more archaic style, while their helmets had <i>actual horns. </i>Every bit of them stunk of power and privilege and¡­ onions? I admit I stared a little agog, until Balin stepped on my foot.


    ¡°Master Brewer Browning.¡± Annie said, her voice curt and cold. ¡°I greet you this day. How do you fare?¡±


    ¡°Quite well, young Goldstone. How is your father?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s doing well. We¡¯ve been very busy.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I heard about that.¡± The dwarf nced my way, and I realized his gaze carried a mix of pride and hate. What the heck had I done to get stuck in this guy¡¯s craw!? ¡°That beer drinkingpetition was a ck mark on the history of brewing in Minnova, and the Guild is considering censuring the Thirsty Goat for its participation.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that!¡± Annie shouted, and then switched gears to her usual matter-of-fact tone. ¡°The king himself approved of that contest. To censure us for our participation would be l¨¨se-majest¨¦.¡±


    ¡°Hmph. I don¡¯t think you¡¯re one to talk about breaking traditions. Especially when you¡¯re depending on a pair of convicts to save your brewery.¡±


    That was a low blow, and I especially didn¡¯t like the implication that this jerk had done some research on me. I guess I hadn¡¯t exactly beenying low though. Annie was turning white, and Balin looked ready to pop, so I decided to butt in before a brawl broke out.


    ¡°Actually, we were just here to buy some erdroot. We are running out of beer faster than we can make it and right now you¡¯re keeping us from our sacred duty of crafting the True Brew.¡± I said in my best ¡®Why Yes, I¡¯m the Manager, Ma¡¯am¡¯ voice.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find that it¡¯ll take more than winning a silly contest to get the dwarves of Minnova to continue buying your beer. Besides, I sincerely doubt any brew you make will be True.¡± Browning sneered. He then brushed past us, and his stony-faced entourage followed.


    ¡°Who were those assholes?¡± I whispered when they were out of earshot. ¡°And why do they smell like onions?¡±


    ¡°Some of the Masters of the Brewers Guild.¡± Annie spat out. ¡°They were the ones that forced Dad to agree to send me to prison. It damn near broke his heart. Holier than thou bastards, the lot of ¡®em. Resting on theurels of their ancestors and never striving to grow. Their traditions require them to carry onions in their breast pockets.¡±


    ¡°Wow, I hate them already.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never liked tha sort me¡¯self¡± Balin added. ¡°Want me to armour up and deck ¡®em?¡±


    ¡°By Barck¡¯s Beard, I pray our next brews go well so I can shove it in their smarmy faces.¡± Annie growled.


    ¡°Meh, Bugger Barck, let¡¯s make our own luck. Sanitisation is a good start.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope so.¡± Annie¡¯s quirked an eyebrow. ¡°What do you have against Barck?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Pete think¡¯s he¡¯s cursed by Barck.¡± Balin said off-handedly.


    ¡°Hey, the specifics of that are still a secret!¡± I rammed my hand over Balin¡¯s mouth and his eyes bugged out in realization.


    ¡°WHAT?!¡± Annie rounded on me and advanced. I backpedaled and held out my hands in a calming gesture.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a big problem, I was going to deal with it eventually! I¡¯ve been so busy. I just need to go to the church and talk to a [Prophet] and it¡¯ll all be fine.¡±


    Annie hauled me up by my gambeson and pitched her voice low so it wouldn¡¯t carry through the market. ¡°You think you¡¯re cursed by the <i>God of beer </i>and you want to work in <i>MY BREWERY</i>!?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Put that way, it was pretty bad. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°<i>The cathedral is right there</i>!¡± She pointed across the square at a looming golden edifice, and just barely managed to keep from screaming. ¡°<i>Go have a heart-to-heart with Barck and you¡¯re noting back until it¡¯s done.</i>¡±


    Sigh. Looks like it¡¯s time to go and meet the maker.


    ¡®Cause he¡¯s the God of craftsmen. Nyuck.

 Chapter 54: Meet the Maker

    <h4>Chapter 54: Meet the Maker</h4>


    I was never a church guy before. I mean, I grew up in what could best be described as a heavily Christian household, but I was always a bit more of an agnostic myself. That didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t appreciative of all the art and culture surrounding religion. Heck, going to cathedrals was always on my bucket list whenever we jetted to some new country on vacation. Whether it was a golden temple in South Asia or an imposing gothic edifice in Europe, they all carried the same feeling of reverence and history.


    None of which could carry a <i>candle</i> to the Cathedral of the Gods in Minnova. The epictin refrains of ¡®O Fortuna¡¯ pulsed in my mind as I beheld it. At least, the parts I could remember; I was pretty sure ¡®gopher tuna¡¯ wasn¡¯ttin.


    The casino had been covered in magic, and the Market was something straight out of fantasy, but the Cathedral was something else. I paused in wonder at the bottom of the first step, looking up and up and <i>UP</i> nearly to the roof of the cavern. The cathedral was made of some kind of white stone with ck detailing and every square centimeter was etched or carved in some way. A rainbow curtain of light hung in the air around it, an aurora that bathed the artistic surface of the cathedral in cloying light. Flickering shadows of humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes, and dragons cavorted upon majestic frescos. A pair of belfries with crystalline bells sat far above, and as I gawked, they chimed a song that filled my heart and soul with peace.


    <i>You have gained the [Calm] condition.</i>


    Well, that was something. Was it magical, holy, or some other kind of effect? If my Wisdom got high enough, would I be able to resist it? Not that I was angry about a lower blood pressure right now. This was my first time walking into a church feeling like I was there to beat up the pope.


    If I was honest with myself, I''d mostly gotten over the whole [Alchemist] Title thing; the Blessings had saved my life, and [Alchemist] kind of suited me. But I was still pissed at Barck for forcing it on me. Every person on this rock got a choice except me, and I was seriously considering giving him a one-two to the jaw if we ever met.


    A constant stream of worshipers streamed in and out of the church. I was surprised to see some werepletely unarmored, wearing pure white robes and golden cloaks. I assumed they had to be clergy. My assumption was corroborated when a pair of dwarves exited the church carrying a small blonde moustached baby. They paused to converse with one of the more elderly white-robed figures. He made some kind of gesture, and said something I couldn¡¯t hear over the din of the market. There was a faint glow around the baby, the parents smiled and bowed, and then the group broke up.


    Well, time to stop procrastinating. I climbed up the stairs and passed through the double doors, which were nked by a pair of dwarves in white-ish blue te mail. I recognized it as Mithril and managed to avoid gawking. Those pieces of armour had to be worth millions of gold! The pair looked me over as I walked in, and I guessed they were using some kind of Milestone or Blessing. I shivered a bit. What kind of spirit-stripping powers could a pair of guards for a Church have? It made me d that intrusive spirit stuff was illegal, at least ording to Diamond.


    Surely the Church wouldn¡¯t do something illegal? Right?


    The inside of the church was somehow even more impressive than the outside. It reminded me a lot of the Sistine Chapel, with paintings covering nearly every single surface. Except these paintings were moving, acting out scenes within. An enormous organ sat against one wall. At least, I think it was an organ? I wasn¡¯t sure because it actually looked more akin to bagpipes the size of a semi-truck.


    There were several massive statues stationed through the church, each depicting a single God replete with their own magical effect. Aaron¡¯s statue was a human with a swirl of water surrounding it, arcs of multi-coloured fluid spinning up to the ceiling. Lunara was an ebony elf cloaked in darkness that practically had substance, while Solen was some kind of weird fangy frilly person that was impossibly bright to look at. Finally, Barck was a verdant statue of a dwarf off to the western side of the church, with an enormous silver tree growing out of the base. Those were all the Gods I could make out from the entrance.


    There must have been hundreds of people in here, and I was a bit stumped about where to start. Did I go to the statue of Barck? Maybe I should grab a white-robed acolyte and say, ¡®Hi, I¡¯m here to see a [Prophet].¡¯ Gutsy, but it would probably put me in a line half a kilometer long. I doubted Annie would let me back into the Goat until I figured stuff out, and I didn¡¯t want to be here for hours.


    I dithered for a moment until the problem was suddenly solved for me.


    ¡°Hello, Peter Roughtuff?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± I looked around and then down at a short gnome in white robes. ¡°Can I help you?¡± My eyes narrowed. ¡°Check that, do I <i>know</i> you?¡±


    ¡°You are expected. Prophet Barnes will see you now.¡± He turned and went into a side alcove, then popped back out and waved at me to follow.


    Well¡­ Yay? Shit? Score? Damn? There was possibly a word here that captured my simultaneous feelings of relief and gut-churning dread, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. I was <i>expected</i>!? I swear if they bring me in front of the congregation to announce I¡¯m the new hero anointed by the Gods I was going to blow this building to kingdome. Inner Peace, Pete, you¡¯re calm as a cucumber. Inner Peace.


    I peeked into the alcove and looked up and up and<i> UP</i>. First, apparently, I had to climb a couple hundred stairs.


    ¡ª


    The white-bearded dwarf with traditional knots and pleats stood up from his rather in wooden desk and smiled as I entered the room. He was wearing the same robes as the rest of the acolytes, just with a bit more gold stitching. His voice was leathery with age as he spoke. ¡°Ah, the hero of the hour!¡±


    I almost turned around and bolted. The [Calm] was all that kept me from bowling over the acolyte behind me and fleeing out the nearest window, the fall be damned.


    ¡°Hello [Prophet].¡± I smiled back and made a small bow like I¡¯d seen the dwarven couple do below. He nodded in return and held his hand up to make a sign that kind of looked like a ¡®K¡¯. His pointer and pinky fingers were held straight up with his ring finger down. His middle and thumb fingers met in the middle. It kind of looked like crackling tongues of fire.


    ¡°Come in,e in. Thank you Paddlefoot.¡± He waved the acolyte out and invited me to take a seat. The door swung shut behind me, cutting off an joyous shout of "HEY, I JUST GOT-". The [Prophet]''s office was made of the same whitish stone as the rest of the temple, but was otherwise quite utilitarian. Besides a few beautiful tapestries, it looked like nothing so much as a standard middle management office. Then again, I guess a [Prophet] was essentially middle management for Gods?


    ¡°I heard from the acolyte that you were expecting me, Prophet Barnes?¡± I began.


    ¡°Right to business! Yes, yes, we were.¡± The [Prophet] leaned back in his leather chair and steepled his fingers. There was a moment of stretched silence while he observed me. A couple papers rustled and shifted on the table from a slight draft.


    ¡°Um¡­ can I ask why?¡±


    ¡°You can.¡± He smiled. Shit, did I just get dad-joked by a multi-centenarian?


    ¡°Why?¡± I kept my tone firm, but a little intiveness may have leaked in.


    ¡°Because I knew you wereing.¡± He grinned.


    ¡°Now yer just yin¡¯ games.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Guilty. You looked like you needed some levity. To answer your question, Barck told me you would being by. Your visit is the final and most important task on my te today,d, so your presence means I¡¯ll soon be free. I n to go and have a couple drinks with my brother; he¡¯s visiting from the capital, you see. Thank you for notingte!¡±


    Right, that made things easier. ¡°Well, I¡¯m here. Why did you want me?¡±


    He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t know, why did youe?¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a [Telepath].¡±


    ¡°So you don¡¯t have any messages for me?¡±


    ¡°No, not at all. I was simply told you would be arriving.¡±


    ¡°Well, you asked <i>me</i> toe. I figured there would be something.¡±


    ¡°Not in particr. Should there be?¡± He leaned forward and smiled.


    Wow, what a loaded question. ¡°I kind of wanted to talk to Barck¡­¡±


    ¡°There is a statue downstairs, He will hear your prayers.¡± Prophet Barnes pointed a finger down through the floor. We stared at each other, at an impasse.


    I stood slowly out of my chair. What in tha¡¯her was this? ¡°I guess I¡¯ll go downstairs then?¡±


    Barnes nodded and bent his head to sign some papers. ¡°You do that. Blessings of the Gods be upon you, child.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ thanks, you too.¡±


    I made my way to the door without taking my eyes off of the [Prophet]. He ignored me and continued his work. I opened the door behind me and stepped through, but he never moved.


    And then I was falling.


    ¡ª


    Prophet Barnes chuckled as he heard the scream and the door snapped shut. [Pinnacle Portal] was such a fun Blessing.


    He finished off thest few pieces of paperwork and stood up, stretching his stooped back as he did so. The rusty joints popped and cracked; these young upstart [Healers] just weren¡¯t as good as he remembered. Back in his day, the head [Healer] would have been able to fix his rheumatism in a heartbeat! Maybe he was getting a bit too old to stay hunched up in this drafty office for hours on end. It was time to see about getting one of the new [Prophets] from the capital.


    Barnes hummed a little as he stepped out the door and into the hallway leading to the stairs. The new Whistlemugs sweeping Minnova''s drinking scene were going to be a fun surprise for his brother! His Grace always loved interesting new ideas.


    Pete was nowhere to be seen.


    In the atrium far below, the emerald eyes of Barck shed with an inner light. The congregation looked about in consternation, but nothing happened.


    ¨C


    Thankfully, the ground broke my fall. I bounced a few times, and scraped a knee, but the grass provided a nice cushion.


    The¡­ grass.


    I felt it beneath and around me, the slightly wet crispness of it against my skin. It had the earthy scent of cuttings when I mowed thewn for Caroline. It was the prickly texture on my back as I yed cloud animals with Sammy. For an instant I was back on Earth, and I nearly wept.


    I stayed there for a while, staring up with watery eyes at a grey sky filled with mist. There was a sun up there somewhere, so I wasn¡¯t underground anymore, and definitely not in Kansas. It was glorious.


    A dull roaring sound filled the air, but it didn¡¯t sound like an animal or civilization. Maybe a waterfall? I eventually stood up so I could have a better look around. My current location was on the side of some hill or mountain, with a ck wall of stone just a few dozen meters ahead and a sheer drop another dozen meters behind me. There wasn¡¯t a single animal or tree to be seen. Just waist-high green grass, boulders the size of houses, and a ck cliffside shrouded in white.


    That was when I heard it: the sound of footfalls. Each a thundering boom that drowned out the ever-present roar. I looked around wildly and saw an enormous shadow sweep through the fog just beyond the cliff.


    <strong> ¡°HELLO MR PHILLIPS¡±</strong>


    <i>You have lost the [Calm] Condition.</i>


    <i>You have gained the [Terrified] Condition.</i>


    Holy God-zi! Only now did I realize that years of cartoon myths and tiny nativities had primed me for Gods to be regr sized people. My ears ached, nearby boulders quaked, as the voice avnched across the mountain.


    <strong>¡°OR SHOULD I CALL YA PETER SAMSON? OR PETER ROUGHTUFF? YOU ¡®AVE EARNED SO MANY NEW NAMES IN SUCH A SHORT TIME.¡±</strong>


    A craggy face loomed out of the mist, twenty stories tall. His beard was a shuffling canopy of trees, His moustache a sweeping mat of cattails, His skin a vibrant mat of blooming algae with the texture of cowhide. His eyes were a gxy and I tore my gaze away before my soul fell into the emerald abyss. The rest of Him was lost to the mist, His titanic mass a shifting shade amongst the depths. My eyes just barely perceived him for what He was. He was a dwarf, but He <i>wasn¡¯t</i> a dwarf.


    *bing*


    <i>You have beheld a God!</i><i></i>


    <i>Perception has increased by 1! Your new Perception is 16.1!</i>


    <strong>¡°I UNDERSTAND YA WANT TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE? I COULD LEAN IN AN¡¯ GIVE YOU A CHANCE.¡± </strong>


    I may have peed a little.

 Chapter 55: Rocket Dwarf

    <h4>Chapter 55: Rocket Dwarf</h4>


    The wall of greenery that was Barck sidled a bit closer as he presented a cheek. My boots shook; I¡¯d seriously been contemting punching <i>that</i> in the face!?


    <strong>¡°AYE, OFFER¡¯S OPEN!¡±</strong>


    Did he just read my mind too!?


    <strong>¡°YEP.¡±</strong>


    I don¡¯t think so! I imagined the dirtiest, most twisted stuff that I could from the inte. Real unigoatse and four dwarves one mug kind of shit. Take that!


    <strong>¡°I¡¯VE SEEN IT ALL PETE, YER NOT GOIN¡¯ TA SHOCK ME WITH YER¡¯ VANILLA CRAP. ARE YA READY TO CHAT? WE DON¡¯T HAVE FOREVER. I MEAN, <i>I</i> DO, BUT I DON¡¯T LIKE WAITIN¡¯.¡±</strong>


    I deted a bit. This was not at<i> all </i>how I''d foreseen this meeting going. I briefly considered taking him up on his offer but¡­ eldritch unfathomable being. I decided against taking a swing.


    "So you¡¯re Barck.¡± I began.


    <strong>¡°THAT¡¯S RIGHT. GOOD JOB.¡±</strong>


    More like eldritch unfathomable <i>wiseguy. </i>Must be where Prophet Barnes got it from. Well, two could y at that game!


    ¡°And you¡¯re all Barck, no bite, right?¡± I gave a sick smile. Hah! Take my dad-fu!


    He paused. <strong>¡°THAT¡¯S A NEW ONE.¡± </strong>


    ¡°I hope you liked it. Please don¡¯t smite me.¡± I shivered slightly in terror, gathered everyst bit of bravado I had, and continued. ¡°Before we start, I need to know. Why did you force me to be an [Alchemist] Barck? I thought choice was important to the Gods. Seriously, W-T-F?¡±


    <strong>¡°AH, YEAH, I DID THAT.¡±</strong>


    "Yes! Yes you did!" As a Canadian, I was incredibly offended by theck of an ¡®I¡¯m Sorry¡¯.


    Barck continued while I chuffed. <strong>¡°ARCHIS AND I FIGURED YOU¡¯D DIE TO THA STONEANTS OR GUNPOWDER WITHOUT IT. IF IT MAKES YA FEEL BETTER, I GOT PUNISHED BY THA OTHER GODS FER DOIN¡¯ THAT.¡±</strong>


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I would have died without it.¡± I sighed. ¡°So I guess you''re <i>partially </i>forgiven. Hearing you got punished for it does actually make me feel better. What happened?¡±


    <strong>¡°I¡¯M NOT ALLOWED TA HELP YOU AS MUCH ANYMORE. AND SOME OTHER STUFF.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s more like <i>me</i> getting punished! How is that fair?!¡±


    <strong>¡°TOUGH.¡±</strong>


    ¡ª


    Have you ever wondered what it would be like to chill with Jesus?


    The guy sounds like an awesome hang. Never need to make a beer run: he can make water into wine. If you run out of munchies, BOOM infinite fish and chips. If you break your spine doing a stunt while he holds your beer, no worries, Jesus has got yer back!


    Barck was a pretty awesome hang, and I quickly lost my [Terrified] condition. There were two <i>big</i> problems though.


    <strong>¡°SO THEN I SMOTE HIM.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Hah! In front of everybody!?¡±


    <strong>¡°THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT IT FER CENTURIES.¡°</strong>


    ¡°I thought the Gods didn¡¯t care about our piddly human insults?¡±


    <strong>¡°NAH, I HATED THAT GUY; HE GOT WHAT WAS COMING TO ¡®IM. I GOT HIM OUT OF THE KARMIC POOL AS FAST AS I COULD.¡± </strong>


    Barck lifted a Whistlemug the size of an aircraft-carrier from the cliff beside me and took a drag. The scent of lemons washed over me. I still couldn¡¯t believe Barck drank my radler! I took a sip from my own Whistlemug and frowned at it, both at the mug and its contents.


    The <i>other </i>big problem was that I was in Heaven, or the Pinnacle, or whatever, and<i> still drinking shit beer</i>.


    ¡°Barck¡­?¡±


    <strong>¡°ASK MORTAL, PERHAPS I SHALL ANSWER.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Why are we drinking this awful beer?¡±


    <strong>¡°WHAT!?¡± </strong> I winced as a boulder crashed along the slope and then flew past overhead. <strong>¡°YOU DARE CALL THE SACRED BREW AWFUL! THIS MOST ¡®OLY OF BEVERAGES WAS BLESSED BY MESELF!! PROSTRATE BEFORE ME AND I MAY FORGIVE YOU.¡±</strong>


    Barck drew himself up. The trees of his beard shifted and cracked as a suction of wind nearly ripped me from the cliff. The gxies that made up his eyes shed crimson, and somewhere far off in the distance his monumental fingers cracked as he flexed them.


    Back when I was in kindergarten, I put a tack on my teacher¡¯s chair. Yes, it was an awful and terrible thing to do, but if my favourite cartoon character could do it, why couldn¡¯t I? It turns out that having an adult scream bloody murder ande bearing down on you with death in their eyes is a lot less fun when it¡¯s for real.


    This was kind of like that, but a hundred times worse.


    ¡°I..I.. I apologize yer Godliness!¡± I supplicated as best as I could. This was how it was done, right? I put my hand into the same holy sign I¡¯d seen that asshole Barnes make. ¡°Please forgive this mortal for he has sinned.¡±


    <strong>¡°NAH, I¡¯M JUST SCREWIN¡¯ WITH YA PETE. IT¡¯S GOATSHITE!¡±</strong>


    What? My face betrayed my shock.


    <strong>¡°YEAH. MEBBE IT¡¯S ABOUT TIME WE GOT TO BUSINESS.¡± Barck put down his mug and his expression turned serious. ¡°YOU PROBABLY HAVE A LOT OF QUESTIONS, AND I HAVE A FEW ANSWERS.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Not a lot?¡±


    <strong>¡°THERE¡¯S RULES. I CAN ONLY TELL YOU SO MUCH, AND I¡¯M BLOCKED FROM A LOT RIGHT NOW.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Ok¡­ can I make a small request first? Talking to you like this is giving me an awful crick in the neck.¡±


    <strong>¡°OH, LET ME FIX THAT.¡±</strong>


    I stepped aside to let him drop down next to me. Instead, the next instant, I was snatched up by a craggy fist and felt a massive pull as we elerated upwards. The hand holding me felt vaguely mossy, and I swear something was moving in it. The ride was bumpy, but onlysted a few seconds, and then I experienced something I never expected to feel in this life or myst.


    Weightless.


    Barck opened his hand and I floated away, my arms and legs pping uselessly. Down below me a blue and green orb floated in a vast ocean of stars. A pair of other, smaller orbs sat closer to us, spinning in azy circle around what had to be Erd. I could count three enormous continents down below. From up here, the clouds looked like rivers, flowing across an azure canvas.


    ¡°Oh my God¡­¡±


    <strong>¡°YES?¡±</strong>


    I ignored that. My chest swelled with childish glee. I was in <i>space</i>. I freaking <i>loved </i>space. Heck, when Caroline and I had gotten married, I¡¯d walked down the aisle to Holsts <i>Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity.</i> The refrain crescendoed in my heart as one of the moons swept by behind us.


    <strong>¡°HAH! I KNEW YOU¡¯D LIKE IT!¡±</strong>


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing!¡± I turned to look at Barck and did a double take. He floated off in the distance, where I couldfortably see all of him. He must have been nearly a kilometer away for that to be possible. He wore an armored suit in the ssical style, and his hair was done up in traditional knotwork. If I didn¡¯t know he was the size of a mountain, I would have assumed he was a regr green-haired dwarf. He looked like an old man sitting in a leather recliner, and his gaze upon the world was positively paternal.


    <strong>¡°IT¡¯S ONE O¡¯ ME FAVOURITE SIGHTS.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Do youe up here a lot?¡±


    <strong>¡°SOME O¡¯ THA TIME. WE MOSTLY STAY IN THA PINNACLE. WE¡¯RE IN THA¡¯ FIRMAMENT RIGHT NOW, SO IF ANYONE IS LOOKIN¡¯ WITH A TELESCOPE, THEY¡¯D SEE US.¡±</strong>


    He waved towards the northern continent.


    <strong>¡°ALLO JACK. NOBODY WILL EVER BELIEVE YOU.¡±</strong> He snapped his fingers and some clouds moved to cover a portion of the northern continent. I was a bit bemused. Barck seemed to jump between serious, joking around, and angry at the drop of a hat.


    We simply sat and enjoyed the view in silence for a while. ¡°Honestly, I just thought you were going to shrink down to my size, this is <i>so much better</i>.¡± I admitted.


    <strong>¡°WE DON¡¯T DO THAT.¡±</strong>


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    <strong>¡°THAT WAS SOMETHIN¡¯ YER GODS DID. MADE IT EASIER TO TALK TO ¡®EM AND EASIER TO RELATE TO.¡±</strong>


    ¡°That sounds right.¡± Hold on a tick, there was a rather major revtion in that sentence. ¡°Wait -¡±


    <strong>¡°DIDN¡¯T WORK OUT TOO WELL IN THA END.¡± </strong>


    ¡°Wait - ¡°


    <strong>¡°HARD TO BELIEVE IN SOMEONE THAT¡¯S JUST ANOTHER GUY IN A TOGA.¡±</strong>


    ¡°HOLD IT!¡±


    Barck paused and *Harumphed*. A hurricane started somewhere over the southern coast from his breath alone.


    ¡°Um, I mean, excuse me please yer Barckliness. You said, <i>your </i>Gods, as in <i>my </i>Gods, as in: there were actually Gods on Earth?¡±


    <strong>¡°AYE. WHO DO YOU THINK SOLD ME YOUR SOUL.¡±</strong>


    I rocked back on my heels; an incredible feat in zero-g. ¡°<i>Sold you my soul</i>!?¡±


    <strong>¡°YOU DIDN¡¯T KNOW?¡±</strong><strong></strong>He quirked an eyebrow the size of a bus.


    ¡°NO!!!¡±


    <strong>¡°HALF-BAKED, AMATEUR, HAS-BEENS.¡±</strong><strong></strong>Barck grumbled. <strong>¡°THEY MADE A GREAT WORLD BUT THEY¡¯RE SHITE GODS.¡±</strong>


    ¡°SOLD YOU MY SOUL!?¡±


    <strong>¡°YOU WERE EXPENSIVE. I HAD TO PAY YOUR GOD A RATHER PAINFUL SUM.¡±</strong>


    ¡°I was an agnostic! I didn¡¯t believe in <i>any </i>God! Did some God just get my soul by <i>fiat</i>!?¡±


    <strong>¡°SURE YA DID. DIONYSIS? AEGIR? DU KANG? THA GOD O¡¯ WINES, BEERS, AND ALCOHOL? YOU WERE ONE OF ¡®IS MOST FERVEROUS FOLLOWERS. YOU SPREAD HIS WORD YER ENTIRE LIFE AND DEDICATED YER BODY TO HIM IN DEATH. HE WAS LOATHE TO GIVE YOU UP, BUT I MANAGED TO CONVINCE ¡®IM.¡± </strong>


    Huh, I guess they did bury me in wine grapes. Wait, don¡¯t get distracted! ¡°SOLD YOU MY SOUL!?¡±


    <strong>¡°DON¡¯T GET LUNARA¡¯S LACE ALL IN A TWIST.¡± </strong>


    Barck waved his hand, and I cked out.


    ¡ª


    A dozen beings sat in a space that had no real borders. Each of them was more of a concept than a physical thing, their forms not tied down by anything so mundane as <i>geometry</i>.


    ¡°So what have you brought us, *screecrackle*¡± Thest bit sounded like a mix between a modem and high-pitched static.


    ¡°It¡¯s a new invention created by one of my souls.¡± One figure said, holding out a strange box. ¡°It¡¯s pure technology, no magic at all.¡±


    The item was passed around to all those assembled, and they pronounced it a fine thing indeed.


    ¡°Another one o¡¯ my favourite souls lost everythin¡¯¡¯.¡± One figure grumbled. ¡°Same problem, they¡¯re amazin¡¯ at inventin¡¯ but no head fer¡¯ gold.¡±


    ¡°My humans had a simr problem.¡± Another voice put in. ¡°They solved it with something called ¡®copyright¡¯.¡±


    ¡°How does it work?¡± A figure that appeared to be an idea of the concept of pasta and meatballs asked.


    ¡°I created a magical gift that prevents anyone else from making or selling the same thing for an inventor¡¯s lifetime.¡±


    ¡°Seems a bit short. Mortal lives are a candle in the wind.¡± Another being with <i>far</i> too many metaphysical tentacles purred.


    ¡°Aye, perhaps five or six generations would make it better.¡± Another voice said.


    The assembled agreed it was a <i>very </i>fine invention, and a <i>very</i> fine idea.


    ¡ª


    Another time, another space, another assembly.


    ¡°Look at what one o¡¯ me favourite souls made! They called it beer! I LOVE this stuff!¡±


    A metaphysical mug popped into existence in front of all those assembled. They each took drinks in their own turn and kind.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± A snake the size of a universe proimed.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a fan.¡± Said a mass of energy.


    ¡°Tastes like something my people make too. I¡¯ve been letting it stew until it improves. Would you like to try?¡± Said a four-armed being with sixteen hands.


    ¡°Aye! Absolutely!¡±


    Another set of mugs went around, and drinks were had by all.


    ¡°Ach, this is even better than mine! I can¡¯t wait till they make it!¡±


    ¡°How soon?¡±


    ¡°Ach, I dunno. I gave em¡¯ one o¡¯ those ¡®Copyright¡¯ Blessin¡¯s so it¡¯ll be a while. Hopefully they won¡¯t rest on theirurels!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Next, try the wine! It¡¯s new!¡± The assembled beings cheered.


    ¡°Hey there *screech crackle pop*¡±


    ¡°Ah, what has you down my short statured friend?¡±


    ¡°All the alcohol here is so damn good, but it¡¯s gone stagnant on my world.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re feeling down, try some of this mead, it¡¯s to die for!¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t really make me feel better. I want my spirits to enjoy some real spirits!¡± The being mmed his mug down on the floor.


    ¡°What¡¯s gone wrong?¡±


    ¡°Well you see, do you remember that ¡®Copyright¡¯ idea from way back? I made it corrupt any unlicensed alcohol, but¡­ I think I made itst too long.¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°What is it my short-statured friend, you have had more to drink than usual.¡± The being in a toga raised an eyebrow and took another gulp of wine.


    ¡°Yeh, I¡¯ve had an epiphany.¡± Beer dripped down a beard that was knotted in a traditional non-euclidean manner.


    ¡°Do tell.¡± The being in a toga eschewed refilling its ss and drank straight from the bottle.


    ¡°If my souls won¡¯t make better alcohol, I¡¯ll be stuck drinking tha same few drinks forever.¡±


    ¡°That is a terrible problem, you have my condolences.¡±


    ¡°So I had a great idea, you give me one of yours, and <i>they</i> can make proper drinks!¡±


    It turned out even Gods could spit-take.


    ¡ª


    "Ten thousand souls, not a single one less."


    "Grrr, you drive a hard bargain." The bearded being growled. "Fine!"


    "You must ensure he gets the chance to win his soul back."


    "Of course. I''ve been doin'' this longer than you, I know tha rules."


    "You aren''t exactly known for following the rules my short-statutered friend."


    "Bah! All that matters is that ''is soul won''t be held down by that damnable Blessin''"


    "Take good care of him."


    "Don''t worry, I ''ave a good spot fer him. I''ve ced my most treasured souls there."


    ¡ª


    My eyes popped open, and I dry heaved into space. If I lost my lunch here, some poor explorer far in the future was going to find the oddest space-junk ever.


    <strong>¡°SO, THAT¡¯S IT.¡±</strong><strong></strong>Barck said, morosely. <strong>¡°THAT¡¯S WHY YER HERE.¡±</strong>


    ¡°I¡¯m here because¡­ of ¡®<i>copyright¡¯?¡±</i> I croaked. I couldn''t tell if that was interesting or incredibly dumb.


    <strong>¡°AYE. THA DWARVES WERE SO USED TA¡¯ BEERS NOT WORKIN¡¯ CAUSE OF IT THAT IT BECAME A TRADITION NOT TA TRY. THA LAGERS WERE A HAPPY ACCIDENT A WHILE AFTER THE COPYRIGHT ENDED.¡±</strong> He shrugged. <strong>¡°TURNS OUT LIFE PLUS FIVE GENERATIONS WORKS GREAT FER HUMANS BUT AWFUL FER DWARVES.¡±</strong>


    ¡°The elves¡­¡± I whispered, horrified.


    <strong>¡°WORSE.¡±</strong> Barck nodded. <strong>¡°THANKFULLY THA DRAGONS ARE TOO LAZY TA INVENT ANYTHIN¡¯. I DON¡¯T GIVE OUT THA [COPYRIGHT] BLESSIN'' NOW, BUT THA DAMAGE WAS DONE. AND AS AN OUTSIDE SOUL YOU AREN''T AFFECTED BY ANY COPYRIGHTS STILL LAYIN¡¯ AROUND.¡± </strong>


    ¡°So my quest, to influence the dwarves. The reason I¡¯m on Erd and have a second chance at life. It¡¯s all because you want new alcohols? Why not just ask someone like Annie? Not that I¡¯mining, mind you!¡± Yeesh, talk about your deific revtions: alcohol was <i>literally</i> my reason for existence.


    <strong>¡°YOU SEE, AFTER CREATION WE GODS CAN ONLY MAKE MILESTONES AND BLESSINS¡¯, OR THINGS THAT OUR MORTALS HAVE INVENTED. IF WE JUST TOLD YOU WHAT TO DO THEN YER NOTHIN¡¯ MORE THAN AN EXTENSION OF OURSELVES. INSTEAD, WE PROVIDE THE FIRMAMENT AND THE GIFTS, AND MORTALS PROVIDE THE INNOVATION. NO INNOVATION MEANS¡­¡±</strong><strong></strong>Barck created a Whistlemug with a *pop* and filled it with beer. He took a sip and frowned. <strong>¡°NO NEW ALCOHOLS.¡±</strong>


    ¡°But why me?¡±


    <strong>¡°WELL, THAT¡¯S A WHOLE OTHER STORY. TA BE BLUNT, IT¡¯S CAUSE YER GOD SAID YOU WERE AMONG THA BEST.¡±</strong>


    ¡°I sincerely disagree.¡±


    <strong>¡°YER NOT DEAD, YER IN A BREWERY, AND YER JUMP STARTIN STUFF WITHOUT EVEN BEIN¡¯ INVOLVED.¡±</strong> Barck counted down on his fingers.


    Okay, maybe I could agree a little. ¡°Why all the rigamarole then? Why not just throw me in the brewery and send a [Prophet] at me with a message.¡±


    <strong>¡°IT¡¯S A BIT MORE COMPLICATED THAN THAT. YOU SEE, AS MY CHOSEN - ¡°</strong>


    ¡°LIKE HELL!"


    <strong>¡°YOU¡¯LL NEED TA BE MORE SPECIFIC, PETE. WHICH ONE?¡±</strong>

 Chapter 56: The Boozen One

    <h4>Chapter 56: The Boozen One</h4>


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be your chosen one.¡± I harrumphed and crossed my arms. There were very few things I would never budge on, and this was one of them. Chosen ones lived a life of conflict and pain, and their stories always ended with some kind of sacrifice. I had zero interest in that. Several hundred years of brewing and good eating followed by a death surrounded by mustachoied great great great great grandbabies sounded just fine. Assuming I ever married again. Maybe great great great great grandnieces and nephews?


    Barck pulled his beard. ¡°IT¡¯S NOT THAT KIND OF CHOSEN!¡±


    ¡°Well then, what kind is it? Keeping in mind that you kind of need to <i>earn</i> my trust here, Mr. Forced Blessing.¡±


    ¡°PETE, DOES ANYTHIN¡¯ ABOUT ME SOUND LIKE THA WARRIOR HERO TYPE? WHAT KIND OF CHOSEN DO YA THINK I¡¯LL NEED?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a skyscraper-sized omnipotent deity made ofndscape, I have no appropriate point of reference here.¡±


    Barck grumbled for a moment. I thought I heard him mutter something about ¡®whiny mortals¡¯ under his breath. ¡°FINE, LET ME PUT IT IN TERMS YOUR FEEBLE MIND WILL UNDERSTAND. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE GREAT GAME.¡±


    ¡°Oh, <i>wow</i>. Hearing the words ¡®Great Game¡¯ from a God makes it <i>soooo </i>much better.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯M NOT LUNARA, I UNDERSTAND SARCASM.¡±


    ¡°Good for you.¡±


    Barck¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°DO I NEED TO SMITE YOU?¡±


    I quickly sat in seiza, then began pinwheeling in space. ¡°Listening.¡±


    ¡°BETTER. IN A WORLD WITH REINCARNATION, YOU CAN GET STAGNATION. THA SAME SOULS GOIN¡¯ THROUGH THA SAME CYCLES. THE GREAT GAME IS TO BREAK THAT CYCLE. DO YOU SEE?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ think I do. You summon souls from outside the cycle to introduce change.¡±


    ¡°THAT¡¯S RIGHT. YOU AREN¡¯T A CHOSEN ¡®ONE¡¯, YOU¡¯RE ONE OF EIGHT CHOSEN ¡®CATALYSTS¡¯. EVERY TEN THOUSAND YEARS WE COMPETE TO SEE WHO CAN SUMMON A SOUL THAT WILL BRING FORTH THE MOST CHANGE.¡±


    ¡°Good or bad change?¡±


    ¡°DEPENDS. USUALLY GOOD, BUT YOUR MORTAL CONCEPTS OF GOOD AND EVIL ARE OBVIOUSLY LIMITED. THERE HAVE BEEN SOME DEMON KINGS, BUT THEY MUST STILL BE PLACED IN AN EXISTING MORTAL VESSEL, WHICH LIMITS THEM GREATLY.¡±


    ¡°I hope I¡¯m one of the good ones.¡± I joked, but there was a pit forming in my stomach. This felt a lot like <i>responsibility</i>.


    ¡°I CAN GUARANTEE THERE WILL BE SOME THAT FIND YOU TO BE THE OPPOSITE.¡±


    ¡°I guess¡­ like Tim, or those Honourable Whatever of Brewers.¡±


    ¡°THOSE IN POWER WILL OFTEN FEAR CHANGE. I WOULDN¡¯T WORRY THOUGH, THE OTHER CHOSEN WILL BE RUNNING INTERFERENCE.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s nice. Can you tell me about them?¡±


    ¡°NO. THAT¡¯S ONE O¡¯ MY PUNISHMENTS. I CAN¡¯T KNOW ANYTHIN¡¯ NEW ABOUT THEM OR WHERE THEY ARE.¡±


    ¡°But you could tell me what you already know.¡± I waggled my eyebrows.


    ¡°NO.¡±


    ¡°In that case, will the others be told about me? That seems like a major handicap.¡± I frowned. I was going to have seven people out there with all my intimate details? That was almost as intrusive as social media.


    ¡°SOME THINGS. WE ARE FORBIDDEN FROM REVEALING YOUR NAME OR LOCATION DIRECTLY.¡±


    ¡°Well, shit. At least tell me they aren¡¯t trying to kill me.¡±


    ¡°SPEAKING OF REWARDS.¡±


    ¡°Gods<i>damnit</i>!¡±


    ¡°I CAN¡¯T, IT¡¯S IN THE RULES.¡± Barck deadpanned. ¡°THE CHOSEN CATALYST THAT IS ABLE TO INFLUENCE THE MOST SAPIENTS WILL RECEIVE ONE WISH.¡±


    ¡°Worse still. Can we wish for more wishes?¡±


    ¡°NO. IT COULD BE TO GO BACK TO THEIR ORIGINAL WORLD, TO LIVE FOREVER, RAISE THE DEAD, OR GAIN VAST POWER.¡±


    ¡° What about making someone love me?¡±


    ¡°SICKO.¡±


    ¡°Just asking.¡± I sighed. ¡°What I¡¯m hearing is that I have seven targets on my back.¡± This was almost worse than being summoned to kill some world devouring monster. At least the monster wasn¡¯t incentivized to seek and destroy me <i>personally.</i> I would just be another tasty treat amongst all the carnage.


    ¡°YES AND NO. VERY FEW OF THE EIGHT SUMMONED THIS TIME WOULD BE INTERESTED IN KILLING YOU.¡±


    ¡°Barck, if you¡¯re trying to make me feel better about this whole thing, you¡¯re making it worse. ''<i>Very few''</i> is significantly higher than zero.<i>¡±</i>


    ¡°NOT ON THE SCALE OF ALL NUMBERS. ALL I CAN SAY IS THAT YOU ARE UNLIKELY TO RUN INTO ANY THAT WOULD WANT TO KILL YOU. HISTORICALLY, WINNING THE GREAT GAME BY KILLING ALL THE OTHER CHOSEN IS A POOR WAY TO AFFECT CHANGE. THE GAME IS JUST OUR WAY OF MAKING THE PROCESS OF CHANGE INTERESTING.¡±


    Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes. ¡°What¡¯s in it for you?¡±


    Barck smirked. ¡°CAN¡¯T SAY, BUT IT WILL NOT BE SUPERIOR TO AN ETERNITY OF HIGHER QUALITY ALCOHOL.¡±


    ¡°I can toast to that.¡±


    ¡°NOT WITH THIS SHITE.¡±


    ¡ª


    We eventually made our way back down to ¡®The Pinnacle¡¯ as Barck called it. The gigantic misty ck mountain that was apparently this world¡¯s version of Olympus. Barck said it ¡®STANDS ABOVE EVERYWHERE IN ERD AT ONCE AND ALLOWS US TO SEE ALL.¡¯ Which just gave me visions of creeper Gods using it to peep.


    I was sitting back on my grassy hillock, with Barck mostly obscured by mist again.


    ¡°So you can¡¯t tell me anything about the other seven, you can¡¯t give me free Blessings or Milestones, and you can¡¯t give me any awesome gear either.¡±


    ¡°I COULD DO GEAR, BUT YOU EXPRESSLY SAID NOT TO GIVE A REVELATION TO THE [PROPHET] ABOUT YOUR STATUS.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, nope, I don¡¯t want that much attention. I¡¯ll hold that as a card in reserve, to be yed in only the most dire of circumstances.¡±


    ¡°SUIT YERSELF."


    "Can you tell me about Earth''s Gods?" I admit I was a bit curious.


    "NO, BUT I DID MAKE SOME ARRANGEMENTS WITH ARCHIS THAT YOU¡¯LL PROBABLY LIKE.¡±


    ¡°Archie!?¡± My ears perked up at that. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°GET THA NEXT TIER IN YER INFLUENCE QUEST AND YOU¡¯LL SEE. USE IT FOR YER SECOND SPECIALIZATION.¡±


    ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°YES.¡± Barck snapped his fingers, and I received a new quest.


    <strong>The Third Brew</strong>


    Can you create a new Dwarven Brew for the first time in millenia? The odds are against you, but you will surely persevere!


    New Brews: 0/1


    Reward: One Karmic Reversal


    Do you ept?


    Yes/No


    I hit ''yes''. ¡°What¡¯s a Karmic Reversal?¡±


    ¡°THINK OF IT AS A TEMPORARY UNDO BUTTON FOR FATE.¡±


    ¡°Phew, sounds powerful. Can you really give me something like this?¡±


    ¡°IN THE SCHEME OF GODLY GIFTS, SOMETHING THAT REVERSES FATE FOR A MOMENT IS FAR WEAKER THAN SOMETHING THAT CAN ALTER ITS FLOW.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know enough about fate to understand any of that.¡± I said withplete confidence.


    Barck chuckled. ¡°I WOULDN¡¯T EXPECT YOU TO. THE LAST THING I WAS ABLE TO GIVE YOU WAS A PLACE YOU¡¯D FLOURISH AND GIFTS TO HELP YOUR COMPANIONS ALONG THE WAY.¡±


    ¡°Hey yeah, apparently the number of Blessings people were gettin¡¯ at the mine was pretty high.¡± Grim had waxed on it vociferously. At length. For <i>HOURS</i>.


    ¡°NORMALLY A MORTAL MUST PERFORM A GREAT FEAT TO CAPTURE OUR ATTENTION AND BE WORTHY OF A BLESSING. RIGHT NOW ALL OF OUR EYES ARE UPON THE CHOSEN, WHICH MEANS WE ARE MORE LIKELY TO HAND OUT A BLESSIN¡¯ SO LONG AS THE ACTION MEETS THE MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ I could look for other people with lots of Blessings happening around them to find out who the other Chosen are?¡± If I was flying blind, I could at least put out some feelers.


    ¡°YES. I ALSO PLACED YOU AMONG SOME OF MY MOST FAVOURED SOULS, AND THEY WILL BE OF GREAT HELP TO YOU.¡±


    ¡°Oh, who? No wait, let me guess. Annie, Copperpot, and... Bran?¡± I listed out the three I thought were the most innovative souls I¡¯d met so far.


    ¡°GOOD GUESSES. TWO OUT OF THREE.¡±


    ¡°Hah, score!¡± I pumped my fist. ¡°Which two?¡±


    ¡°ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO KNOW? THEIR PREVIOUS LIVES WILL HAVE NO BEARING ON THEIR CURRENT ONE, AND IT MAY CHANGE HOW YOU PERCEIVE THEM.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good with spoilers. Hit me.¡± I paused. ¡°Not literally.¡±


    ¡°I UNDERSTAND FIGURES OF SPEECH AS WELL AS SARCASM. MY FAVOURED SOULS WERE BRAN, ANNIE, WHISTLEMOP, AND TOURMALINE. THE OTHER GODS HAD SOME OF THEIR FAVOURED PRESENT AS WELL, BUT I CANNOT SAY WHO. THEY WERE ALL PLACED TO INFLUENCE YOU IN A SPECIFIC DIRECTION. I COULDN¡¯T AFFORD TO LOSE YOU AFTER TIARA STOLE THE MARCH ON ME, WHICH WAS ANOTHER REASON FOR THE FORCED BLESSING.¡±


    ¡°Ok, those make sense. I¡¯ll have to think about who the others might be.¡± Balin was almost guaranteed to be one. Maybe Tiara¡¯s? Grim for Lunara. Maybe Doc Opal for Archis? ¡°Were any of them ever famous people? Wait, Tourmaline? Who the heck is that!?¡±


    ¡°TO YOUR FIRST QUESTION, YES. WHISTLEMOP IS THE SOUL THAT INVENTED BANKING ON ERD. HE IS TECHNICALLY BOTH MINE AND AARON¡¯S. BRAN IS THE SOUL THAT INVENTED BREAD.¡±


    ¡°Phew. Sliced bread?¡±


    ¡°THAT TOO. ANNIE GOLDSTONE IS MY MOST TREASURED SOUL.¡± Barck waved his hand and the mist below us cleared to reveal the inside of the Thirsty Goat, as if we were in a giant IMAX theatre. Annie was there, busy cleaning everything with wild abandon, and asionally ordering Johnsson around. ¡°THE FIRST BREWER.¡± Barck¡¯s voice was full of joy and affection.


    I leaned in to see. The view was crystal clear from up here. There was likely a zoom function too. I gave Barck some side-eye; creeper Gods using it to peep <i>indeed</i>.


    ¡°I CAN STILL READ YOUR MIND.¡±


    I turned away and whistled. ¡°Sooooo, anyways. Who¡¯s Tourmaline?¡±


    ¡°FOR THAT CRACK I¡¯M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU.¡± Barck waved his hand, and the mist covered the mountain once more.


    ¡°Oh,e on!!¡±


    ¡°NO. SUFFER, MORTAL.¡±


    ¡°You apparently own my <i>soul</i>. I don¡¯t think any form of suffering can match <i>that!¡±</i> I paused, as my mind raced back to the visions I¡¯d been shown. They were oddly hazy, as though my mind was rejecting the memory. [sh of Insight]. Pain briefly spiked in my mind, and then I remembered. I pointed usingly at Barck.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to tell me how I can win my soul back!¡±


    ¡°EVENTUALLY.¡± Barck prevaricated.


    ¡°I would appreciate it if you told me <i>now</i>. Especially if we are going to have a rtionship based on mutual trust and <i>respect</i>.¡±


    ¡°I AM A GOD. I DO NOT REQUIRE YOUR TRUST, AND YOUR RESPECT IS INEVITABLE.¡±


    ¡°I will sit on my ass and macrame tiny yellow ducks until the day I die.¡± I folded my arms and leveled my most deadly threat. I¡¯d do it too, if only to make a point that I was nobody¡¯sckey.


    ¡°UGH, FINE. YOU MUST FIRST CREATE FOR ME AN APPROPRIATE STAGE. SOMETHING GRAND ENOUGH TO WARRANT ME SUMMONING AN AVATAR. I WILL THEN COME TO YOU IN A FORM YOU DO NOT EXPECT AND CHALLENGE YOU TO A GAME. IF YOU WIN, YOU WIN YOUR SOUL BACK. IF YOU LOSE, I CONTINUE TO OWN YOUR SOUL UNTIL THE NEXT CYCLE. YOU GET ONE CHANCE PER CYCLE, NO MORE, NO LESS.¡±


    ¡°Works for me. How grand?¡±


    ¡°THAT¡¯S FOR ME TO DECIDE. ''NOT EXPECT'' KIND OF REQUIRES THAT.¡±


    Damnit! Well, the deca-millennial wasing up. I could probably do something with that.


    ¡°IT¡¯S ABOUT TIME FOR YOU TO BE GETTING BACK.¡± Barck waved his hand, and my feet began dissolving into light. I panicked for a moment, and then realized he probably wasn¡¯t going to be killing his ¡®Chosen¡¯.


    ¡°Wait! Do you really have <i>nothing</i> else you can help me with?¡±


    ¡°HMM, WHEN YOU ARRIVE BACK ON THA FIRMAMENT, LOOK FOR A FRIEND IN NEED.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± My legs had now vanished up to my knees; white light streamed from my thighs and down the mountain.


    ¡°YOU HAVE ALREADY MET ONE O¡¯ THA OTHER CHOSEN.¡±


    ¡°<i>What</i>?<i> Who</i>!?¡± I was now specks of light up to my neck, and I craned an ear up to hear.


    ¡°AND THA WHITE GOAT IS YER OLD WIFE.¡±


    ¡°NO! REALLY!? YOU LIE!¡±


    ¡°YOU FIGURE IT OUT, NOW PISS OFF, I HAVE WORK TA DO.¡±


    My eyes dissolved, and thest thing I saw was a shit-eating grin that stretched across the horizon.


    ¡ª


    There was a sh in the Cathedral of the Gods. The statue of Barck cascaded through a rainbow of light before the entire room was filled with such brilliance that all assembled dropped to their knees in pain and reverence. Unnoticed among the chaos, a single figure fell to the floor in a corner. None saw him arrive, and none took notice as the room devolved into chaos.


    The figure stumbled amongst the shoving, shouting throng. ¡°Ugh, I still have grass stains on my pants, and couldn¡¯t he have fixed this gash on my knee? Oof! Scuse me!¡±


    ¡°Pete? Is that you?¡±


    ¡°Bran, what are you doing here!?¡±

 Chapter 57: Interlude: Bran’s Muffins

    <h4>Chapter 57: Interlude: Bran''s Muffins</h4>


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong Bran?¡±


    Bran pulled up the covers as Opal nestled into his chest. He sighed mightily and held her tight. She curled his beard while he thought for a moment and answered.


    ¡°I¡¯m bored, Opal.¡±


    ¡°Not with me, I hope?¡± Opal joked. ¡°But you have lost a bit of your sparktely. What happened? Do any of the new inmates have you down? Do I need to spike someone¡¯s drink withxative until they get the picture?¡±


    Opal pulled violently at his moustache and he tickled her viciously until she stopped.


    They paused for a moment and caught their breath, gasping the astringent medicinal air in Opal¡¯s cabin.


    ¡°No need ta take it that far, and besides tha new crop are just fine. No, the problem is the old crew.¡±


    ¡°I think I see.¡± Opal flopped onto her back and held a hand up to the ceiling. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the sky, and you want to reach for it.¡±


    ¡°Aye. I didn¡¯t realise it before, Opal, but I¡¯ve outgrown this camp. I¡¯m tired of makin¡¯ sandwiches fer recalcitrant dwarves. I¡¯m sick o¡¯ stew, and I¡¯ve had enough o¡¯ erdroot. When I was cookin¡¯ with Pete, I felt more alive than I had in years.¡± Bran¡¯s eyes looked far into a distance only he could see. ¡°I want to cook more fascinatin¡¯ things, and make dishes no dwarf has ever seen before.¡±


    Bran grew animated as he spoke, and as he shone brighter and brighter, Opal grew more and more dour. She could see where this was going.


    ¡°You want to leave.¡±


    Her voice was t. It wasn¡¯t a question.


    "I love ya Opal, and I¡¯ll always love ya, but you know yer family will never ept a middlin¡¯ Blessed o¡¯ Aaron fer their daughter. I need to make a name fer myself.¡±


    ¡°What if I told you I don¡¯t care what my family thinks. That Bran the prison cook is dwarf enough for me.¡± Opal ran a finger down his chest, and heughed.


    ¡°Yer father will roll right over, though yer mum might have some words. But it¡¯s not them I¡¯m worried about. It¡¯s me, love, I want to be worthy of tha¡¯ future Noble, Doctor Opal.¡±


    ¡°If you think you aren¡¯t good enough Bran, that¡¯s not true at all!¡± Opal flushed with anger, and Bran smiled. Her passion was one of the reasons he loved her so. Her love of his baking was simply another.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter what either of us think. I can see it, Opal. I¡¯ve gone as far as I can in this mine.¡±


    Opal held him tight, and the two of them shared a passionate kiss.


    She broke apart first. ¡°You can run away, Bran Hurler, but you¡¯ll never be able to hide from me.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think of it.¡±


    ¡ª


    Bran strode down the aisles of the Grand Market, looking to and fro for any interesting ingredients, spices, or confections. There were myriad odds and ends, but nothing that came close to the wonders he¡¯d seen in the past few months with Pete. Between the tarts, the eirs, and the meringue, Pete''s basic recipes were a veritable fount of inspiration for scrumptious new delicacies. Bran sighed. He¡¯d grown far toocent in the mine and hadn¡¯t realised it until Pete widened his horizons.


    Opal said Pete was headed to Annie Goldstone¡¯s brewery, but he had no idea where that was. There weren¡¯t too many breweries in the city, so he could just search them out one by one, but he wasn¡¯t even sure that was the correct path in the first ce.


    All his life, he went with the flow, letting life take him where it willed. First, he fell into cooking for his family after their mother died. As the eldest of four brothers, it made sense for him to take over his mother¡¯s chores while his father continued the family business of running the axe-throwing hall.


    Necessity became the drive for his ingenuity. He learned new methods for braising cheap meat and saut¨¦ing mushrooms to bring out their vour. He made soup stock out of leftover bones and vegetables, and discovered the myriad ways of salt. It was never quite as good as his mother¡¯s, but every dish brought him a bit closer to her memory. The daily trips to the market and quiet moments stirring a cookpot brought some simple joy to his mncholy.


    Then, they fell on more hard times. His father was injured in an ident, and while City Hall provided enough to feed and shelter them, it wasn¡¯t enough to keep the hall. So the boys took to begging and then stealing; anything to avoid losing their ancestral home. First, they stole some bread. Then they stole some gold. Then they were caught, and as eldest, he took all the me.


    Thieving was not tolerated in Minnova. He spent several years in the reform mine for that, where he naturally took over most of the kitchen duties. Cooking for a half-dozen hungry mouths wasn¡¯t <i>that </i>different from cooking for several dozen. The kitchen was well appointed, and he had all the budget he needed to cook hearty and fulfilling meals. It was enough.


    And then <i>she</i> arrived.


    She was older, wiser, an educated miss from a well-to-do family. She shone bright and glittered with hidden depths, much like her namesake. He was smitten from the moment she entered his kitchen and demanded to speak to the chef; she found the foodcking in variety and wanted him to expand the menu.


    So he¡¯d gotten cook books, fruit, vegetables, and meats he¡¯d never heard of, all supplemented by the doctor¡¯s ie so she could enjoy the food she was ustomed to. He added basil, pepper, and oregano to supplement the ever-present salt. In one of their few conversations, he discovered she had a sweet tooth, which inspired him to bake his first pie.


    It was a horror show. He threw it to the goats and swore them to secrecy.


    The fourth pie was eptable. The look on her face when she took a bite from the crisp crust and licked apples from her moustache was the moment he knew: he was beard over heels. With Opal, and with cooking. So he learned the ways of butter and sugar, how to make his crusts ky, and his tarts tart. He became more than a simple cook; he was a <i>chef.</i>


    After his indenture he stayed, and with Grim¡¯s blessing became the head chef. He took over the logistics for the kitchen, and with it came the Blessing of Aaron, God of Exchange. With that Blessing came more prestige, and Opal¡¯s congrattions. The prisoners came and went, but there were always the two, the cook and the doctor.


    He took to telling people he was originally arrested for throwing rocks. He was a Hurler after all.


    Then came Balin, and Pete, and Annie, and Wreck, and Sam. The stoneant incident. The radler. The stream of delicious pastries. Suddenly, Bran was no longer going with the flow; every day was a refreshing whirlwind of new and exciting dishes! Some of the recipes he sold to other bakeries in the city, others he kept in reserve to experiment on. For the first time in his life, he took steps on his own, and it was <i>exhrating.</i>


    He couldn¡¯t go back to that monotone life, taking each day as it came and hoping that things would work out. His endeavours won him the heart of an incredible dwarf, and he would do whatever it took to ensure it stayed that way.


    The problem was¡­ where to start?


    Open up his own shop? He had the gold for it. He could go to his family, but they were long gone from Minnova. Join one of the local bakeries or restaurants? There was little doubt his skills would quickly propel him to the top. Perhaps the Grand Market itself would be a good start, with a small street food cart.


    His meandering brought him to the steps of the Cathedral of the Gods. The pealing of the bells gave him some [Calm] and with it an idea. The Gods would provide him guidance!


    ¡ª


    They had not provided guidance.


    Bran sighed as he pushed back against the throng of people. There was amotion just as he entered; the statue of Barck had done something odd, though no one could tell him what exactly. Several [Priests] and some acolytes were in prayer in front of it, and most of the congregation was pushing close in case some kind of blessing came down.


    It was interesting, but it was more going with the flow. Bran was done going with the flow. He separated himself from the crowd and peeled off into a secluded corner. The space was filled with incense and a multitude of flickering candles. A fresco in the alcove pictured the Gods in judgement over the dragons, and the creation of Crack as the vain lizards were smote down to Erd. He dropped a few silvers into a nearby donation bin and lit a candle of his own.


    ¡°Erm. ¡®Allo Gods, it¡¯s me, Bran. Though I guess you already knew that.¡± He chuckled, feeling somewhat foolish. ¡°I¡¯m a bit new to this whole ¡®makin my own way¡¯ business, so I was hopin¡¯ to get a push out tha¡¯ door. Aaron, as yer Blessed, would ya consider giving me a sign? Or mebbe Barck, since I¡¯m looking to change meself.¡±


    There was no answer. Bran sighed, of course there wasn¡¯t an answer. The Gods worked in their own way, there was no way that -


    The world went white.


    Bran stumbled, his eyes aching from the sudden radiance. The entire cathedral was rocked by a pulse of multi-coloured light emanating from the statue of Barck. The [Priests] got the worst of it, and were all screaming in agony. The crowd was beginning to panic. Had Barck decided to smite someone? Had someone in the Cathedral displeased the God?


    Bran blinked, the rainbow kaleidoscope behind his eyelids setting off new star-bursts of pain. Of course this would happen right as he was starting a new path in life. If this was how the Gods answered every prayer, it made sense that most considered it ast resort. He was just as stuck now as before, except with an excruciating headache.


    Perhaps this wasn¡¯t the right moment. Maybe it was a sign that he wasn¡¯t meant to¡­ Bran paused as a figure appeared before him.


    ¡°Pete?¡± As his sight cleared, the familiar figure resolved itself in his vision. ¡°Is that you?¡±


    ¡°Bran?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Hey everyone! This is Bran!¡± Pete announced to everyone in the mess hall.


    ¡°Hello, Bran.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meetcha!¡±


    ¡°Good to see you again Bran!¡±


    ¡°More mouths to feed¡­¡±


    ¡°NO! Not you, Penelope! Someone grab her before she says hello!"


    The Thirsty Goat was incredibly weing, at least after Annie finished grilling Pete about something.


    The mess hall was spacious, and reminded him a bit of the cafeteria back in the prison. Except for the mural of a drunk goat taking up an entire wall. That was different.


    Annie stepped forward. ¡°Pete and I have been running the numbers, and I''vee to a decision. With dad''s blessing, Bran here is going to take over the kitchen. I think the sess of our recent party showed that the first step to bring back this brewery is getting more people drinking our beer. The easiest way to do that will be to turn this underutilised eating space into a full-time pub. Pete has gotten the pro drinkers to agree toe and use the Thirsty Goat for their meetups, and with the current climate in the city, that is going to bring us a lot of attention.¡±


    She nodded at Pete, who gave an odd gesture with two thumbs up.


    ¡°Bran is an amazing cook, and we¡¯re hoping that some of his dishes will turn the Thirsty Goat into a hot new ce to eat. Pete said he has some other ideas to drum up business, so we will hopefully be very busy soon. Balin, we are going to need a lot more chairs; get to work on that. John, Johnsson, Richter, we still have over a dozen empty fermentation tanks; you¡¯ll need to work double time. We¡¯ve got about two weeks to get ready while the first batch of wort ferments, so get to it!¡±


    Bran watched as everyone dashed off to work, then headed into the kitchen. A few minutester he called over the blue-haired Aqua to begin making orders.


    He was finally ready, and he knew just where to start. He grabbed a few carrots that were set aside for Penelope and began shaving them. Pete once described something called ¡®muffins¡¯ and he was eager to try. With his own twist of course. Maybe some roasted honeyed nuts, or candied carrots.


    *Bing*


    Your heart of hard work and innovation have caught the attention of Barck. He wishes to grant you his Blessing. If you ept, you will gain a Title.


    Do you ept?


    Yes/ No


    Bran smiled as he mentally hit ¡®yes¡¯. It looked like he finally had his sign.

 Chapter 58: Primetime BB

    <h4>Chapter 58: Primetime BB</h4>


    ¡°Oh hellooo, Barck.¡± The short statured gnomess purred as she sidled up to the dwarf. He was in his usual spot, on the bluff near the top of the mountain. He said it offered the best views. He had created a plush leather recliner, like those used in gnomish cafes, and was lounging in it while staring up into the clouds. He looked miffed at being interrupted, but then he always looked miffed.


    ¡°What do ya want, Tiara.¡±


    ¡°We all felt some Godly power being used yesterday. Did you have a nice meeting with Peter?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Barck was as brusque as usual, and Tiara could feel her eyebrow twitch.


    ¡°I was just checking to see if you were bored and all, with only the <i>one</i> Chosen to watch.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s goin¡¯ fine.¡± Barck snapped a drink into existence and passed it off to Tiara. She took a sniff and drank.


    ¡°This is that new radler, right? It¡¯s okay. Nothingpared to tea though.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good start. Nuts?¡± Barck handed over some nuts in a golden bowl. ¡°I¡¯m hopin¡¯ Pete introduces some better beer snacks soon. I¡¯m gettin¡¯ tired o¡¯ nuts and pickled fish.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± *crunch* *crunch* ¡°Do you think he has a good chance? He¡¯s made a move on the board, but it¡¯s nothing close to the other Chosen.¡±


    ¡°Are none of ya¡¯ watchin¡¯?¡± Barck asked, bbergasted.


    ¡°Sort of, but the Sword God is making serious waves among the dragons, and stuff is getting pretty crazy in the human kingdoms too.¡±


    ¡°Bah. Not even someone from Murim is going to get thosezy lizards off their behinds.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see! How about Peter?¡±


    ¡°Here, I¡¯ll pass you the frequency and you can watch.¡±


    "What''s happening?"


    "Nothin''. He''s just hangin'' out and runnin'' errands fer tha next two weeks while tha batches ferment."


    "What?! Then why are we watching!?"


    "Because it''s entertainin''. Now shhhhhh!"


    The clouds above them parted to reveal a scene happening just below in a small store in the city of Minnova.


    ¡ª


    ¡°This is the ce.¡± The dwarf in a light blue pastel jerkin said, opening the door. ¡°After you, Pete!¡±


    The sign on the door read: ¡°The Bashful Beard.¡±


    It was inhabited by several dwarves in skirts and had a line of chairs and washbasins lining the walls.


    ¡°So this is the beardy parlor you kept mentioning, Johnsson?¡± Pete walked into the building and looked around. It was fairly modern, by dwarven standards, in an art deco style with a lot of colour.


    ¡°It is. Isn¡¯t it great?¡± Johnsson shrugged his armored jerkin onto a coat hook and took a seat by the window. ¡°Afternoon, Tina, you¡¯re looking fine today! Two for today, please!¡±


    ¡°Oh, you. Who¡¯s yer friend, Johnsson?¡± The dwarfess working on a patron¡¯s moustache waved some painted nails at them.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. Let me introduce you, this is Pete!¡± Johnsson said


    ¡°Hi, sorry, I¡¯m Pete.¡± Pete said offhandedly, as he examined Johnsson¡¯s hanging armour. ¡°I¡¯m also mystified. How did you get that armour off so fast, Johnsson?¡±


    ¡°Well nice to meet you Pete, grab a seat by the window and I¡¯ll be right with you.¡± Tina grabbed what looked like a pair of rocks on a stick and began blow drying the patron¡¯s beard.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice, isn¡¯t it?¡± Johnsson said. ¡°The suit only looks like armour at first nce. It¡¯s actually padded cloth and filigree. There¡¯s no actual protection at all, which makes it a lot easier to put on and take off. Morefortable too. Besides, who needs armour in modern society anyway?¡±


    Pete stared at the jerkin with wide eyes. ¡°You need to show me where you got it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to, but your beardes first Pete. No dwarf or dwarfess is going to be interested in you if you don¡¯t practice proper beard care.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know. It was getting kind of ratty. You¡¯re the most put-together dwarf I''ve met, so I figured you¡¯d know all the best spots.¡±


    ¡°I do indeed. Tina is a wizard with a brush, and she¡¯ll make you the most handsome dwarf in all of Minnova.¡±


    ¡°Hear, hear!¡± Tina called from her chair.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let anyone else work on my beard, and I¡¯m always trying new styles.¡± Johnsson flicked his beard, which was split into a three-part braid with several teal bows in it.


    Eventually the two of them were called up, Johnsson with Tina, and Pete with a dwarf in clogs and a sundress named Petunia. Soon, the only sound in the shop was the snapping of scissors. And the asional sigh of pleasure.


    ¡°Mmmmm¡­ the scalp massage is nice.¡±


    ¡°Wow, this oil treatment feels so good in my beard.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to get matching beads, Johnsson?¡±


    ¡°Ahhh, keep brushing right there!¡±


    Soon all the other dwarves in the building were chuckling.


    ¡°You sound like this is yer first time getting yer beard done.¡± Tinaughed.


    ¡°Um, yeah ha ha.¡± Peteughed along too.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this name-change thing.¡±


    Balin, Pete, and Annie were all standing at the foot of city hall. They had taken the afternoon to finally go and get Pete¡¯s name changed so that Aqua could file his taxes.


    ¡°Before we go in, do you have all your paperwork, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Yep! ID, signed statement by Grim, and.. Huh, what¡¯s this?¡± Pete pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and snapped it open. ¡°Oh, hey! It¡¯s the poster I found in that alley at the Grand Market!¡±


    ¡°A poster?¡± Balin asked, leaning in.


    ¡°Yeah, I grabbed it because I wanted to start doing stuff like this too. I haven''t seen ads or posters like this up anywhere, so I wanted to ask about it!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better <i>not</i> put up ''stuff like that''. It¡¯s defacing private property and obnoxious signage.¡± Annie said matter-of-factly. ¡°City of Minnova Ordinances, Chapter 14, Section XVII, Paragraph 4. We seriously need to get you a tutor for localws before you get us shut down.¡±


    ¡°It was on a public street.¡± I countered.


    ¡°Defacin¡¯ public property then.¡± Balin put in.


    ¡°Ugh, dwarves!¡± Pete rolled his eyes.


    ¡°Yer a dwarf!¡± The two of them said in unison.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah..¡± Pete stood to the side to allow a pair of angry-looking dwarves ess to the stairs and began to read aloud from the poster.


    <i>¡°The Crackian Council for Independence calls for the King and his High Lords to sign the Great Charter!</i>


    <i>Too long have the King and High Lords ruled by fiat. We approach the decamillenial, and a chance for great change is upon us. </i>


    <i>Do the guilds not run the cities, do the greybeards not hold our knowledge, do the barons not protect thend?</i>


    <i>We call upon the King to protect the rights of the gentry from unfair abuses by the High Lords. </i>


    <i>We demand that justice be assured no matter the station of the offender, as is the dwarven way!</i>


    <i>We demand that the gold of the guilds and greybeards be left in their care, as is the dwarven way!</i>


    <i>We demand the rights of gnomes not be curtailed, let them be free, as is the dwarven way!</i>


    <i>Come to the Decamillenial and join us as we march upon the Castle to entreat the King!</i>


    <i>Signed,</i>


    <i>Thad Harmsson¡±</i>


    ¡°Psh, revolutionary drivel,¡± Balin grumbled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know Balin.¡± Annie said. ¡°If there was better justice, then maybe the [Judges] would be going after real criminals instead of putting people like you and Pete in jail.¡±


    ¡°I suppose.¡± Balin stroked his nowpletely restored handlebar moustache. ¡°But then I wouldn¡¯t have met you.¡±


    ¡°Gods forbid.¡± Annie fluttered her eyshes at him.


    ¡°Ugh, get a room you two.¡± Pete groaned. ¡°Annie, by real criminals, do you mean recalcitrant gnomish purveyors of shoddy green vegetables?¡±


    ¡°<i>Yes</i>.¡±


    ¡°Heh. Hey, why does it say the rights of gnomes are curtailed?¡± Pete asked, pointing at the paragraph in question. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look that way at all.¡±


    ¡°Most of it is traditional dwarven stations.¡± Annie said. ¡°Gnomes cannot be greybeards, they cannot be brewers or recordkeepers, and they cannot join City Hall.¡± She waved her hand to indicate the building beside them. ¡°They also struggle with purchasingnd in traditionally dwarven held enves.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s awful.¡±


    Balin shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s the way it¡¯s always been. I can agree with ya there, tha gnomes have been our staunchest allies ferever.¡±


    ¡°The gnomes agreed to those limitations in return for free travel and taxation benefits within the dwarven kingdoms. It made a lot of sense at the time, but thosews are a bit out of date now.¡± Annie put in.


    ¡°You know Annie, I¡¯ve noticed you seem to know a lot and your ent is different. Is it a schooling thing?¡± Pete asked, curiously.


    Annie nodded, ¡°I went to the Archis Academy for Magic when I was younger. A lot of wealthy and well-to-do families put their children through there.¡±


    ¡°You learned magic!?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no.¡± Annie shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s mostly like any other school, just more advanced and with better connections. You learn magic in the higher years. Aqua and Johnsson went there too, though Johnsson quit before I did.¡±


    ¡°Why did you all quit?¡±


    ¡°Who wants to spend the next hundred years in school? Now let¡¯s go get a number so we can get your name changed, Mr. <i>Samson</i>.¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°And the BOULDER keeps <i>rolling!¡±</i> The announcer cried. ¡°DOES HE EVER STOP!?!¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s yer nuts, Pete.¡± The cheerful eyes of Brock peered out from his enormous bushy beard. He was wearing some ck spiked armour with a lot of angry white lettering on it, much like the rest of the horde. The apanying goggles were nearly a necessity to keep from losing an eye.


    A dwarf with a short ck goatee and no moustache, wearing nothing but green shorts, climbed up onto the ropes of the arena. He began yelling down at another dwarf in yellow spandex with a ck full te helmet and a horshoe moustache.


    ¡°Tha BOULDER thinks that this vermin isn¡¯t <i>dwarf</i> enough topete in the ring! Send Tha BOULDER a real challenge!¡±


    ¡°Woah!¡± The announcer cried as the crowd booed and jeered in turn. ¡°The Boulder has thrown down a SUPER EFFECTIVE challenge to Electrorat! Will he take that, or is he too <i>weak </i>to face off against his NEMESIS after theirst bout!?¡±


    ¡°Hah! This is great!¡± Pete eximed around a mouth of nuts while the yellow spandexed figure hunched down and began to glimmer with electricity. ¡°Is that a Blessing? This makes for an <i>awesome</i> show!¡±


    ¡°No, Electrorat has some special enchantments on his armour that make that effect. He does use some aether magic too though.¡± Brock sat down beside Pete and passed him a drink. ¡°Here you go, half empty like you asked. Why?¡±


    ¡°I have something I like to add.¡± Pete pulled a sk out and poured its contents into the beer. The faint scent of lemons washed out from it.


    Brock leaned to look closer. ¡°Is that some of that ¡®radler¡¯ I ¡®eard about back at the mine?¡±


    ¡°Yep. OOOH!!! GO BOULDER! MAKE THAT RAT ROADKILL!!!¡± Pete stood up with the rest of the crowd and roared as The Boulder did an elbow m off the ropes onto Electrorat¡¯s head. His elbow ¡®pinged¡¯ on the yellow te helmet and he cried out in pain.


    ¡°The BOULDER is in <i>agony!!!</i>¡±


    Brock took a swig of his beer and grumbled. ¡°This is nothing. I wish you could have seen Tombstone¡¯sst match.¡±


    ¡°Now <i>that</i> I need to see. Tombstone is my <i>favourite</i> wrestler.¡± Pete grinned.


    ¡°You ¡®ave good taste, sir!¡± The next few moments were a madhouse of heavy bagpipe music, mes, thunderbolts, and a lot of screaming between two half-naked dwarves.


    ¡°Speaking of Tombstones, how are things at the dungeon?¡± Pete asked while the announcer began the countdown for Boulder, who was currently twitching on the ground as electricity coursed through him.


    ¡°May not be a monster stampede. Scouts think there may ¡®ave been a change in the boss of the dungeon, and so the territories are bein¡¯ swapped around. A lot of the weaker monsters are gettin¡¯ pushed to the outer edge.¡±


    ¡°Oof, sounds rough. GO BOULDER! DON¡¯T GATHER MOSS YOU BLOCKHEAD!¡±


    ¡°Not too bad. It¡¯s an opportunity fer younger adventuring parties to get some fightin¡¯ close to tha edge where it¡¯s safest. ELECTRORAT! GIVE HIM A GOOD OLD WAVE O¡¯ THUNDER!¡±


    Boulder stood up at thest second and then stumbled around the ring. Electrorat came up behind him and attempted to deliver a massive suplex, but The Boulder grabbed onto Electrorat¡¯s helm with his thighs, and flipped him to the ground instead. The crowd roared their approval.


    ¡°How¡¯s Balin doin''?¡± Brock asked as the fight devolved to some basic punches and kicks.


    ¡°He¡¯s crazy busy right now. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Tha¡¯ boys at the guard station wanted to know. Some o¡¯ their kids are lookin¡¯ to get into this new wave of adventurers and they need a good defender. Balin¡¯s name came up.¡±


    ¡°I know he was thinkin¡¯ about it. I¡¯ll pass on the message, but I honestly doubt it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I can really ask fer. Thanks Pete.¡±


    ¡°No problem. GO BOULDER! GIVE HIM A GROUND POUND!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°This is barbaric.¡± Tiarained, her mouth full of tea and pastry.


    ¡°Yer still here, aren¡¯t ya?¡± Barck remarked, grinning.


    ¡°I admit it is somewhat interesting.¡±


    ¡°Hey, what are you two watching?¡± A beastfolk appeared beside them with a *crack* of air.


    ¡°Shhhh!!! The next episode of ¡®Petey First Dates¡¯ is on!¡± Tiana hushed.


    ¡°Well, if Tiara thinks it¡¯s interesting, I want in too. What¡¯s the frequency?¡± The leather lounger increased in size as he sat down, grabbed a beer, and settled in to watch.


    ¡°Hopefully this series won''t get canceled like all the best ones always are.¡± He remarked.


    ¡°SHHHHHH!!!!!¡±

 Chapter 59: Petey First Dates - Rising Action

    <h4>Chapter 59: Petey First Dates - Rising Action</h4>


    Pete stood and waved at the young gnomess as she entered the cafe.


    "Hey Lillyweather, over here!"


    The mousey haired girl smiled brightly and made her way over, awkwardly maneuvering around a bden barista as she did so.


    "Hi Peter!"


    "Pete is fine. It''s great to see you." Pete offered his hand in greeting at the same moment that Lillyweather moved in to initiate a hug. An awkward shuffle of hands, arms, and feet followed until the pair decided on apanionable handsp. Pete cleared his throat and moved to pull out her chair.


    "Thank you. It¡¯s good to see you too." Lillyweather replied. She moved to sit and bumped her foot against the table, spilling Pete¡¯s drink. ¡°Oh gosh! I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m not quite used to this thing yet.¡±


    She rubbed absentmindedly at her right leg. She was wearing short brown leather shorts, and her visible thigh was a matte metal the colour of porcin.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, don¡¯t worry about it. I can just go get another one. Do you have a preference?¡±


    ¡°Two cream and two sugar please.¡±


    ¡°One double doubleing right up!¡±


    Lillyweather giggled. ¡°That¡¯s a unique way of putting it.¡±


    An odd expression passed over Pete¡¯s face. ¡°Ah, yeah. It¡¯s the way I like my coffee too, so I came up with a name for it.¡±


    ¡°Double double, huh? I like it.¡± She smiled and Pete smiled back. There was a brief moment before Pete took a deep breath.


    ¡°Right, the coffee.¡± He walked over to the counter to order. Lillyweather watched him patiently for a while before pulling out a hand mirror. She closed it with a *snap* as Pete walked back to the table. He ced down the drinks alongside a pair of tes; each a tower of white sponge cake and strawberries piled high with whipped cream.


    ¡°Ooooh, strawberry cake, my favourite!¡± She eximed.


    ¡°It¡¯s everybody¡¯s favourite. I just wish there was some chocte.¡± Pete sat down and took a drink from his cup. ¡°Ahhhh¡­ perfection.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s chocte?¡± Lillyweather asked, as she dug into the slice of cake. She took a dainty mouth watering bite of the creamy concoction. *mmmmm*


    "Something I ate once. I haven''t found it locally." Peteughed. ¡°You¡¯ve got a little something there.¡± He pointed to a glob of whipped cream on her cheek.


    ¡°Here?¡± She licked at the wrong spot.


    ¡°No, here.¡±


    ¡°Here?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Where is it?¡±


    ¡°Right <i>there</i>.¡±


    ¡°Can you just get it?¡± Lillyweather pointed her chin across the table and Pete leaned across to wipe the cream off with a napkin. Lillweather looked slightly disappointed as she slid back into her chair.


    There was a moment of silence as the two ate and drank. Pete broke it first.


    ¡°I was a bit surprised when I got your message about wanting to meet. What¡¯s up?¡±


    Lillyweather¡¯s face turned a slightly deeper shade of pink than her makeup. ¡°I just¡­ wanted to thank you. I heard about what happened at the mine. Without your help¡­ Anyways, I¡¯m d you were able to take some time to meet me!¡±


    ¡°Of course! So, how are you doing?¡±


    A shadow passed over Lillyweather¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m doing ok. I- I''ve been off work for a while. The college is paying for me to get some counseling and extended vacation time. Professor Copperpot got me a great prosthetic from the research branch at the university, it even has tactile sensation!¡± She knocked on the leg which made a sound like rapping on stic.


    ¡°It looks great, by the way.¡± Pete smiled.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Some of the cheer returned to Lillyweather¡¯s face. ¡°You too.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Um, <i>howhaveyoubeen</i>?¡± LIllyweather said in a rush, before taking a deep drink of coffee.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been fine. I¡¯m mostly busy with the brewery. I did get into the top ten at the Barck Beer Brawl though!¡±


    ¡°Really? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Well you see¡­¡±


    Pete waxed poetically about his adventures since leaving the mine while she listened with rapt attention. Lillyweatherughed and Pete joked until the cafe got busy. They packed up and parted, as friends.


    ¡ª


    ¡°So this is the Minnova City Library, huh?¡± Pete put his hands on his hips and looked around. ¡°I was imagining a lot more floating bookcases, and stacks reaching up ten storeys.¡± The library was normal sized, though the stacks did reach to the ceiling. A sound-dampening red carpet stretched in between the shelves, with a few nooks here and there for readers. A squat red golem with four arms and legs walked by and picked up some books on its back before trundling off.


    ¡°At least that¡¯s magical.¡±


    ¡°It''s naht <i>¡®Tha¡¯</i> Minnova City Library, Pete. It''s <i>¡®a¡¯</i> Minnova City Library.¡± Richter closed the door behind them and moved up to the front desk. His deep Nigerian ent pitched to avoid carrying in the chill silence of the space. ¡°Nice ta see ya, Uric.¡±


    The librarian noddedpanionably. His long, braided beard bounced on the desk as he did so. The namete in front of him read ¡®Uric Mcbook.¡¯


    ¡°Evening, Richter. Are ya studyin¡¯ again?¡±


    ¡°Na, ahm here ta give tha tourist ova der a crash course.¡± Richter pointed at Pete, who was slowly spinning around and taking everything in.


    ¡°Ah, well, make sure he knows the rules.¡± The librarian nodded to Richter who caught Pete¡¯s attention and lead him away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t I need a library card?¡± Pete asked as they walked between the tall bookshelves.


    ¡°Why? Jus give dem yer ID if ya take any books. City ¡®all takes care of a dat.¡± Richter led them to a small collection of tables. A few gnomes and dwarves were seated around them with dour expressions and eyes that told of many sleepless nights. Richter indicated Pete should take a seat while he went and obtained something to read. He returned momentster with a leather-bound book the width of a dwarvish thigh and gently ced it on the table. The cover read <i>City of Minnova Ordinances</i>.


    ¡°Here ya go.¡±


    ¡°Dear Gods, do I need to read all of these?¡±


    ¡°It shouldn be dat ¡®hard.¡± Richter frowned. ¡°What¡¯s yer intelligence?¡±


    ¡°High enough, I¡¯ll have you know!¡±


    ¡°As long as it¡¯s above twelve, ya shouldn¡¯t ¡®ave too ¡®ard a time rememberin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Come to think of it¡­¡± Pete frowned. ¡°Yer right. I haven¡¯t forgotten much anymore. I lose track of it, but don¡¯t forget as much.¡±


    ¡°Then dis should be easy.¡± Richter sat down beside Pete and gotfortable. ¡°Tha Goldstones are payin¡¯ me ta make sure yer up ta date on tha Ordinances. So let¡¯s get started, ya?¡±


    ¡°Yes yes. How did you end up being the one doing this?¡± Pete flicked open the first page and began to read. ¡°Huh, I didn¡¯t even know you could do that with a pickle, I wonder¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t try it, thas why it¡¯s in dere.¡± Richter sighed. ¡°I¡¯m tha only one really still studyin¡¯. Ie to da library a lot, so they asked me to make sure ya were taken care of.¡±


    ¡°Are you at the Archis Academy too?¡±


    Richter went quiet for a bit before he continued. ¡°Not yet. I got some tings ta work out first.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Pete didn¡¯t push any further and the two of them sat in silence, reading for a while. asionally, Pete would hum or haw, and point to something for Richter to exin. Richter pulled out an old and ratty leather notebook that had ¡®Ricky¡¯ written across it inrge letters and took some notes. Pete nodded at it. ¡°That looks old. Is it from when you were younger?¡±


    Richter paused and looked at the notebook as if seeing it for the first time. ¡°Aye. I¡¯ve ¡®ad it fer so long I don¡¯t even tink about it anymoar.¡± He smiled. ¡°It was from me Da.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Pete looked like he¡¯d sucked on a lemon. ¡°I heard some¡­ stuff from Annie, but not too much.¡±


    ¡°She don¡¯t like Da, but he deserves it.¡± Richter said in a terse voice tinged with regret. ¡°He worked fer Mr. Goldstone over sixty years after dey took us in.¡±


    ¡°I heard he saved Mr. Goldstone¡¯s life.¡± Pete angled his chair to talk, the book of ordinances temporarily forgotten.


    Richter nodded and leaned back in his seat. He pulled at his dreadlocked orange beard as he reminisced. ¡°Mr. Goldstone was almost hit by a runaway cart. We¡¯d just immigrated from tha south then, and Da was lookin¡¯ fer work when he was passin¡¯ by and saw it. He shoved Goldstone just in time. Da broke his leg and was up fer a few weeks. Tha Goldstones took us in and gave us a home and honest work. I went to a city school, and Ma eventually went to work at tha Market.¡±


    Pete nodded and let therge ck dwarf continue.


    ¡°Tha rest were all goin¡¯ ta Archis Academy, and I wanted ta go too.¡± Richter looked up at the ceiling and reached a hand to an imaginary sky. ¡°I wanted ta learn magic.¡±


    Pete gulped. ¡°I can understand that.¡±


    ¡°Da did too, but we couldn¡¯t afford it. We were buildin¡¯ a new life here.¡± Richter sighed. ¡°So when anotha¡¯ brewery offered ¡®im a lot more gold ta switch¡­¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t!¡± Pete gasped and the small collection of bleary-eyed bookworms hissed. He waved back apologetically. ¡°Sorry!¡±


    Richter nodded sadly. ¡°He did. I begged him no. That it spit in tha faces of tha Goldstones. But ¡®e said ¡®One day you¡¯ll understand, me son.¡¯ and went.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ the Archis Academy?¡±


    ¡°Tha money is there. I could go tomorrow, I could pass tha entry test easy. But I just can¡¯t. Mr. Goldstone, Ma, all the older folk seem fine with it. ¡®Yer Da saved me life, and I¡¯m d I could get ¡®im a good job.¡¯¡± Richter smiled sourly. ¡°But us younger ones feel betrayed. Like we came as thieves. Mebbe¡­ mebbe one day I¡¯ll take tha money, but not now.¡± His fist tightened on the table. ¡°So Ie here and study, hopin¡¯ that one day Archis will notice me.¡±


    ¡°He will¡­¡± Pete smiled, a sick look on his face. ¡°The Gods are always watching.¡±


    Richter scrunched his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. ¡°But not everybody gets Blessed. Yer stallin¡¯ Pete, what¡¯s da City of Minnova Ordinance Chapter 10, Section 4, Subsection 8?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±


    The two of them continued for several hours, with Richter quizzing Pete and pointing out things he had missed. When it was time to leave, Pete checked out the <i>Book of Ordinance</i>s and made his way out the entrance. He stopped as he realized Richter wasn¡¯t following him, but was still as a statue at the door.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Pete.. Pete¡­ I¡­ I¡­.¡±


    ¡ª


    The three Gods looked up at a human male that had joined them, his arcane robes pping as he lounged in the air over their heads. He was chewing on some peanut brittle and drinking an amber liquid from a tumbler ss that floated beside him.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good show.¡± Archismented around a mouthful of brittle. ¡°But a twist always makes things more interesting.¡±


    ¡ª


    Pete lit a candle, and the gentle yellow light flickered over a pair of tes filled with food. Each was piled high with a fancy sd,plete with nuts and some very expensive berries. A fine drizzle of some kind of honeypleted the dish and lent it a posh air.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m starting to misspanionship.¡± Pete said, as he wrung his beard. ¡°I¡¯ve been so focused on getting into this brewery and starting a new life that I wasn¡¯t really paying attention to romantic rtionships. Yearns Yams! I was on a date with a pretty girl earlier this week, and didn¡¯t even notice.¡± He sighed. ¡°She¡¯s a nice kid, and I know she¡¯s technically older than me, but she just reminds me too much of¡­ well, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll ever be able to be more than friends. I¡¯ll need to find a time and ce to clearly turn her down.¡±


    Pete took a bite from his te and filled two tankards with beer. He pushed one across to his date.


    "On top of that, I''ve been trying too hard to fit in. It''s like I''m a freshman, trying to make new friends and acting like a fool to get in with them." Pete chuckled ruefully. "You''d think I would have learned my lesson in college."


    He finished his te, eating inpanionable silence for a few minutes. The only sound in the dark room was the crunch of vegetables. Then Pete spoke again.


    ¡°And some of the things that Bar- a person recently told me have been messin¡¯ with my head. So that¡¯s why I asked you to join me for dinner tonight.¡± Pete paused and brushed a spot of sweat from his forehead. ¡°That is to say, erm. I.. You¡­ Caroline, my love, are you in there!?¡± He said thest in a rush.


    *Meeeeeh* [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°What?¡±


    A chokedugh came from a slightly ajar door to the renovated mess hall, and Pete stood up in a sudden motion. ¡°Who''s there!?¡±


    Pete mmed the door open just in time to grab ahold of a fleeing Balin, Aqua and Annie having already made it outside. He achieved a chokehold and put on the pressure while Balin iled desperately. ¡°You enjoyin¡¯ peepin¡¯, bro!?¡±


    ¡°Pete!¡± Balin barely choked out. ¡°Ya have to stop romancin¡¯ tha goat!¡±¡±


    ¡°Damn Barck, and damn you all!!!!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°What on Erd did you do?¡± Tiara asked, reaching up to steal a slice of brittle from Archis¡¯s te.


    Barck snickered. ¡°Nothin¡¯.¡±

 Chapter 60: Petey First Dates - Climax

    <h4>Chapter 60: Petey First Dates - Climax</h4>


    Two dwarves sat in a restaurant, their table piled high with food. They took a few bites from each dish in turn, and then discussed.


    *crunch* *crunch* ¡°Too salty.¡±


    ¡°I like this one, Bran.¡±


    ¡°Too sweet, try this.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, what <i>is </i>it?¡±


    ¡°Grilled cuttereel wi¡¯ a balsamic ze.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s foul.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t really disagree, Pete. Try tha beer-braised roast goat and mushroom sauce.¡±


    *munch* *chew* ¡°Mmm¡­ now this I can get behind. It melts in my mouth. The roast goat has a strong vour that threatens to be a bit too gamey, but the mellow notes of the mushroom sauce counteract it perfectly. Combine that with this roasted erdroot and it almost makes me <i>like</i> erdroot. Shame about the shitty aftertaste of the be - *cough* - Anyway, add it to the list?¡±


    There was a scratching of pencil on paper as Bran wrote something onto a notepad. ¡°Aye. Needs some onions though.¡±


    ¡°Oooh! Maybe some shallots?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a shallot?¡±


    ¡°Sigh. More like shalnots, then. Are there any fish tes?¡±


    ¡°Just tha cuttereel.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ is it because of ack of fishes or ack of dishes?¡±


    ¡°Only a few kinds o¡¯ fish in tha dungeon and only cavetrout in thakes around Minnova.¡± Bran shrugged. ¡°Ya get bored of tha¡¯ same grilled fish after a few decades.¡±


    "Then we won''t grill it. Add ¡®beer battered fish and chips¡¯ to the menu. I¡¯ll teach it to youter.¡± *burp*


    ¡°Hmmm... We got a good mix here.¡± Bran leafed through the notepad. ¡°A lot more than most pubs. What did you call this again?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re doin¡¯ market research. I want to know what tha most popr dishes are in Minnova, so we have a guaranteed hit on opening night. Coupled with some of my recipe ideas and a little word of mouth, we should be full on day one.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s hopin¡¯.¡± Bran nodded. ¡°Maybe my new Blessin¡¯ will help with that.¡±


    ¡°How does it work?¡±


    ¡°[Artisan¡¯s Luck]. It says that I make a bit o¡¯ my own luck so long as I¡¯m workin¡¯ hard.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ amazing? But seriously, how does it work?¡±


    ¡°Dunno? I think it means that the harder I work, the luckier I get. So if I work hard on these dishes, we might get lucky fer openin night.¡±


    ¡°That <i>is</i> amazing! Is there anythin¡¯ else you need?¡±


    ¡°I want ta go to tha ce just around the corner. They make a really mean goatherd pie.¡±


    ¡°Sounds tasty.¡±


    ¡°It is. Ground goat with steamed vegetables like killer corn and peashooter pods. Topped with mashed Erdroot an¡¯ mixed with a ton of salty butter and garlic.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmm.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmm.¡±


    The pair rubbed their stomachs and leaned back to enjoy the feeling of a full belly.


    ¡°Excuse me¡­¡± A well dressed-dwarf in a button-up zer approached their table. ¡°May I ask what you are doing? Are you two actually nning to eat all this? I must ask that you pay now before any other food is brought to your table.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡± Pete took in the massive pile of food. ¡°Can we get this to go?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Do you know why I invited you into my office, Pete?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing it has something to do with Annie moving a bunch of boxes around?¡±


    ¡°Shovit.¡± Annie said, as she lugged a box filled with papers. Pete held the door open and waved her by. She grunted some thanks as she passed.


    Jeremiah Goldstone waited until the door swung closed.


    ¡°You¡¯re somewhat right. I actually invited you here to invite you somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡± Jeremiah swung open the door and headed out.


    ¡°Okaaay?¡± Pete ran after. ¡°Where are we goin¡¯ Mr. Goldstone?¡±


    ¡°The sted Oak.¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°It¡¯s hard, havin¡¯ a child.¡± Jeremiahmented, his nose deep in a mug. A couple more mugsy empty on the table beside him. His voice slurred as he spoke, and his ent was closer to Crack standard than usual. ¡°Even when ya know she¡¯s smart as a whip and can knock most other dwarves out, all ya¡¯ can see is yer little darlin¡¯ callin¡¯ ¡®daddy¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I knooooow.¡± Pete wept, tears streaming down his face. Nearly twice as many mugsy beside him. He wasn¡¯t quite drunk, but his eyes were clouded with nostalgia and freshly healed pain. ¡°They grow up so fast!¡±


    Jeremiah pulled out a locket and snapped it open. He gazed down at it tenderly, and wiped at it with one trembling finger. ¡°And after her mother died¡­. my darlin¡¯ Lazuli. She¡¯s all I got left. That and my brewery.¡±


    The two shared a look for a moment. Two fathers that shared a love of brewing, each feeling the hurt that came with losing the love of their lives.


    ¡°And yerrrr tryin¡¯ ta take both of those from me.¡± Jeremiah finished, his tears turning into a scowl.


    ¡°What!?¡± Pete cried, nearly tumbling off of his chair at the sudden change in topic. ¡°Thas¡¯ not true, Jeremiah! I love the Goat, and Annie, and my Balin is <i>perfect </i>fer her! He¡¯s too honest to a fault, straightforward, and absolutely dedicated to his family. Yer lucky to have him fer a suitor! At least y-y¨Cyou get to see yer little girl get married!¡± Fresh tears poured down Pete¡¯s cheeks.


    ¡°I thought ya didn¡¯t ''member much? Weren¡¯t you a-a-a drifter?¡± Jeremiah asked, curiously.


    Pete blew his nose into his beard and then stared at it, aghast. ¡°I-I was a father. Balin and Annie know. I can¡¯t talk about it¡­ I¡­ I lost her.¡±


    ¡°Gods. Gods. I¡¯m sssorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m in a good ce now, and yer daughter has made that possible. She¡¯s a bright dwarf, and I think she has a powerful future. Barck¡¯s Beard, she¡¯s probably one o¡¯ tha - one o'' tha most beloved souls in all o¡¯ Minnova.¡± Pete¡¯s voice fell to a whisper. ¡°I should know¡­¡±


    ¡°Aye. And that part''s the part of what I wanted ter talk about.¡± Jeremiah¡¯s tone grew more intive, as the dam that held back his emotions broke apart. ¡°This brewpub of yers¡­ It¡¯s too huge, er, big a change fer me. I was gettin¡¯ ready to retire a couple years back, thinkin¡¯ of leavin¡¯ the brewery to Annie. But she waz too headssstrong, too quick ta act without thinkin¡¯ things through.¡± He smiled sourly. ¡°Juzt like - ''er father.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not like that anymore.¡± Pete put in.


    ¡°Shaddup, I¡¯m gettin¡¯ there. When that tank blew - KABLOOEY - I thought it destroyed her heart as well as that-that-that Godsdamn wall.¡± He looked above Pete¡¯s head, far off into a distance only he could see. ¡°She came home from that mine still shaky and unsure of ¡®erself but fer one thing. She loved a dwarf named Balin and s-s-she was goin¡¯ to save her brewery. She were goin¡¯ ter make a ce fer him toe home to. You two helped her find herself again, and I thank you, wanted ta thank you fer that. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°They''re good fer each other.¡± Pete nodded. ¡°Balin needs someone who¡¯s a bit more worldly.¡±


    ¡°Annie needs someone that thinks, but is ssstill a fighter.¡± Jeremiah nodded. ¡°They''re a good match. But then there¡¯s <i>you</i>.¡± Jeremiah leaned across the table. ¡°Full of new ideas, and pushin¡¯ her to make rash decisions again.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t push her into that gamble!¡±


    ¡°<i>You</i> were the one that instigated it!¡±


    ¡°I only bet my own money! I didn''t even tell her about it!¡±


    ¡°I <i>KNOW.</i>¡± Jeremiah roared, and ducked as an oaken barrel smashed over his head. The dwarf behind the bar, a green haired giant even taller than Jeremiah, waved a fist menacingly. Jeremiah dropped his voice. ¡°I know. I also know yer takin¡¯ things slow. I heard from my buddies about yer <i>radler</i>, and how you¡¯ve decided to improve on the brew.¡±


    ¡°Because I think Annie¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I do too. But I¡¯m too old. Too afraid of change.¡± Jeremiah¡¯s usually grim face turned dour. ¡°I can¡¯t do it Pete, so I¡¯m lettin¡¯ her run the brewpub, and make tha next few batches. I¡¯m not going to step down, but I¡¯m going to step back.¡±


    ¡°You mean-¡± Pete¡¯s voice bubbled with excitement.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m going to let you two loose. As long as you can promise no explosions.¡±


    ¡°When have I ever caused explosions!?¡± Peteughed cheerfully, then noticed Jeremiah¡¯s re. ¡°When have I ever caused explosions <i>identally</i>?¡±


    ¡ª


    The two blonde dwarves siddled into line. A sea of pink swayed and bobbed around them with nervous excitement. A pair of massive pink posters framed the double doors to the concert hall and proimed ¡°Raspberrysyrup On Tour¡±. The mood was infectious, and more than one gnome or dwarf hollered with joy.


    ¡°Why are we in disguises?¡± Pete asked, scratching at his yellow hair. ¡°This itches.¡±


    ¡°Shhhhh!¡± Aqua hushed. ¡°Don¡¯t scratch at that, you¡¯ll knock it off!¡± She adjusted Pete¡¯s pink cor and brushed at his bangs. ¡°Perfect, I can¡¯t tell it¡¯s you at all.¡±


    ¡°Aye, and I can¡¯t tell if there¡¯s even a dwarf under all that pink makeup¡­¡± Pete poked Aqua¡¯s nose with a finger, and she giggled.


    ¡°Well, after the casino incident, you and I are public enemy number one and two.¡± Aqua pointed at the ticket booth. A drawing depicting two dwarves, one blue-haired and one brown-haired, could be seen behind the ticketing agent. Large point font at the top of the drawing stated: ¡°NO ENTRY¡±.


    ¡°What!?¡± Pete hissed. ¡°<i>You</i> stole all their signs. What did <i>I</i> do??¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding? You stuffed your butter in her mouth!¡±


    ¡°SHHHH!!!¡± Pete mped his hand over Aqua¡¯s mouth. ¡°It sounds so dirty when you put it that way!¡±


    ¡°Says tha man in love with a goat!¡± Aqua¡¯s voice was muffled. She bit Pete¡¯s finger and he yanked his hand back.


    ¡°Owch! I¡¯m not in love with Penelope! No matter <i>how</i> cute her beard is.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡±


    ¡°Why did you even want toe?¡± Pete asked, nursing his munched digit.


    ¡°I was curious¡­¡± Aqua craned her neck around the sea of pink. ¡°And this is new! I love new! You love new! So I figured we could check out this new thing together!¡±


    ¡°I do love new.¡± Pete¡¯s smile widened. ¡°I also love concerts, so let¡¯s do this!¡±


    The pair made it through the ticketing booth uneventfully, and found their seats near the rear middle of the auditorium. Like most dwarven architecture, the space was buried into the stone, with the ceiling sitting just above ground level. The rows of seats were inset with bright pink and white solstones, and some of the audience had sticks that glittered with light. The hubbub was immense, and Pete had to put his head together with Aqua¡¯s to be heard.


    ¡°This looks like a rave!¡±


    ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°A¡­ type of concert I went to!¡±


    Aqua¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Yer so darn shifty!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll figure you out eventually, you know!¡±


    ¡°Good luck!¡±


    Eventually the lights went off, and the crowd grew silent. Then, there was an explosion.


    A series of pink and white smoke bombs went off with a roar, and sparks flew from the edge of the stage. A spotlight snapped onto a young gnomess in a skin-tight sequin skirt and halter top. A heavy bass beat shook the stands while an electric guitar began to whine. The crowd screamed and Rasberrysyrup nodded to the beat. Then she opened her mouth and shouted,


    ¡°LET¡¯S GET THE PARTY STARTED!!!¡±


    Pete¡¯s jaw dropped and he rubbed his ears. Aqua jumped up and down and roared with the rest of the crowd, then noticed his shocked silence.


    ¡°THIS IS GREAT!¡± She shouted.


    Pete turned wide eyes her way. ¡°YOU HAVE NO IDEA! I¡¯VE ALWAYS LOVED THIS SONG!¡±


    ¡°I THOUGHT YOU¡¯VE NEVER LISTENED TO HER MUSIC!?¡±


    ¡°NOPE!¡±


    ¡°HOW CAN THOSE BOTH BE TRUE?!¡±


    ¡°YOU¡¯LL FIGURE IT OUT! ISN¡¯T PINK AWESOME!?¡± Pete pumped his fist with the rest of the pink festooned crowd, then said more quietly. ¡°Found you.¡±


    Soon he and Aqua were surfing in the mosh pit.


    ¡ª


    Barck red at the collection of high quality furniture that now dotted the bluff.


    ¡°Where are y¡¯allin¡¯ from?¡± He grumbled.


    Lunara pointed at the lounge-chair floating above them. ¡°I was actually looking for Archis.¡±


    ¡°We all live here too, you know.¡± Aaron put in.


    ¡°At least Yearn hasn¡¯t found us yet.¡± Tiara added.


    There was a murmur of general agreement.

 Chapter 61: Petey First Dates - Denoument

    <h4>Chapter 61: Petey First Dates - Denoument</h4>


    Pete leaned back in his chair and took a deep drink of beer. He made a pained smile. ¡°That red armour really brings out your eyes, Emerelda.¡±


    ¡°Thank ya Pete.¡± Emerelda posed in her red gambeson. ¡°Red and crimson are all the rage right now.¡±


    ¡°Is it because of the Lord?¡±


    Emerelda nodded. ¡°That¡¯s part of it. It also looks great!¡± She curled her beard and continued. "Honestly, I was surprised when you asked me out for drinks. I know we talked about it at thepetition, but I''m usually the one that asks."


    "Truly? A beauty like you?" Pete scoffed. "I''m surprised there aren''t more dwarven gentlemen beating at the gates"


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m usually the one beating them.¡±


    Pete and Emerelda shared a chuckle. They were currently seated in a busy beer garden hosted by the Honourable Guild of Brewers. The space was arge open-air collection of tables located next to the Guild¡¯s Main store. The Guild actually had one of the permanent buildings on the Grand Market¡¯s main street - a single story affair with an enormous beer cer. A raised private booth alongside the garden stated ¡®Master Brewers Only¡¯.


    They spent the next hour discussing their love of the brew and all the ces they¡¯d been to drink. Emerelda had actually traveled to several different cities in Crack to try their beers. She described them as ¡®Kinda all tha same¡¯. Pete was very careful in his own descriptions to always talk about his love for beer in the general sense. Eventually, he got to his reason for inviting Emerelda out.


    ¡°How do you like your Whistlemug?¡± He tapped the in metal tankard provided by the garden.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t they great? I have two now, and almost nobody has more than that.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°There''s a limit on one per customer.¡± Emerelda sighed. ¡°Ya have to sign your name. They keep a register of all ¡®official owners¡¯. I think it¡¯s crazy, but they¡¯re always sold out, so it can¡¯t be too crazy.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­ I was interested in grabbin'' another one. My name shouldn¡¯t be on the register since I won it from the city.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s possible.¡± Emerelda nodded. ¡°I can take ya to Whistlemop¡¯s stall. He has a small space in the central square.¡±


    ¡°That sounds great, let''s go."


    The two finished off their drinks and headed into the center of the Grand Market.


    The Market was full of knick knacks and oddities, both magical and mundane, so a little window shopping was unavoidable. Pete spent nearly thirty minutes at a stall that sold talking objects made by an [Animist].


    ¡°By the Gods, why would you want a talking coaster?¡± Emerelda guffawed.


    ¡°Because I could hand them out? I may not be allowed to put up posters, so I need to get creative with my advertising.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s advertising?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ think of it as forced word of mouth. It¡¯s getting the name of a business out into themunity through more direct means.¡±


    ¡°Well, a coaster that screams ¡®DRINK A GOAT¡¯ every time you put a mug on it <i>would </i>get attention.¡± She chuckled.


    They eventually found their way to Whistlemop''s, which was a rather familiar wagon converted into a more permanent stall. The sides were filled with Whistlemugs, and the side was adorned with: ¡°Whistlemop¡¯s Wonders¡± and a newly painted ¡°and Whistlemugs¡± beneath it. A pair of te-armored dwarves kept therge crowd at bay as Whistlemop himself handed out mugs. A gnome beside him checked IDs and put names down in a ledger.


    As they approached, Pete folded his beard up into a fashionable leather gorget and pulled his skull cap down. Hepleted the makeshift outfit with some goggles and a long leather jacket.


    Emerelda raised her eyebrows. ¡°What¡¯s with the getup?¡±


    Pete pulled out a hand mirror and checked his beard. ¡°I¡¯m doing some market research on Whistlemop, and I don¡¯t want others to know.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± She looked him up and down and bit her lower lip. ¡°It makes you look mysterious.¡±


    ¡°Dwarf of mystery, that¡¯s me. Want to be my femme fatale?¡± He said thest while twirling his moustache.


    ¡°Does it involve a little mayhem?¡± She fluttered her eyshes.


    ¡°A little chaos, a touch of bloodshed, maybe a murder.¡± Pete said and sidled closer.


    Emereldaughed and smacked him on the shoulder. ¡°Then count me in!¡±


    The two waited in line while sharing stories about their childhood. Emerelda was born and bred in Minnova but liked to travel. Pete shared what he could, but tried to keep the topic off of his past. Emerelda was chatty, witty, and just a bit fond of violence.


    Pete kept an eye on Whistlemop while they chatted. Every time some silver and a mug were exchanged, his finger twitched as though he was counting. At one point, there was amotion as a dwarf whose name was already on the register started a fight. He was quickly subdued by the guards and then escorted out of the Market. Nobodyined, and a few even cheered. Then it was Pete¡¯s turn.


    ¡°Name and ID please.¡±


    ¡°Peter Roughtuff.¡± Pete handed over his newly minted ID.


    Nearer the wagon Whistlemop seemed to twitch a bit at the name ¡°Peter¡± and nced their way. He calmed a bit at the name ¡°Roughtuff¡± and barely gave Pete a cursory second nce.


    ¡°[Verify Authenticity]. That will be 5 silver.¡±


    ¡°Guh. Aaron¡¯s Arse.¡±


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡± The gnome looked down his nose at Pete and adjusted his sses.


    ¡°Nope. Just thinkin¡¯ how much I¡¯m looking forward to this.¡± Pete ground out through clenched teeth. He moved up to Whistlemop, who handed him a ss.


    ¡°Thank you purchasing this one of a kind Whistlemug!¡±


    Pete coughed and lowered his voice to a gruff tone. ¡°Thankee.¡±


    ¡°Now move along please so I can serve the next person.¡±


    ¡°Congrats on yer sess. ¡®Ow did yae up wit tha idea?¡±


    Whistlemug seemed annoyed but quickly turned on a bright smile.


    ¡°It was luck, really, I needed something to drink from and had a simr object handy. I used it for my drink, and realized how perfect it was. Now, please move along, I have many customers to serve.¡±


    Pete coughed, his face growing red under the goggles. ¡°How can I get ya some fan mail?¡±


    Whistlemop¡¯s smile grew strained. ¡°My clerk handles all mail. Please give it to him.¡±


    Pete stalked away and handed the mug to another dwarf in the line as he passed by.


    ¡°Hey, are you sure!?!¡± The stranger eximed.


    ¡°Merry Christmas.¡± Pete growled as Emeralda ran after him.


    ¡°What?¡± Said the confused, but overjoyed dwarf.


    ¡°Did you figure out what you wanted?¡± Emerelda asked as she got alongside.


    ¡°Yeah. I need to see a gnome about a dog.¡±


    ¡°Why a dog?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise. At least, <i>he¡¯ll</i> find it surprising.¡± Pete removed the costume and smiled with his teeth.


    ¡°Ooooh, that¡¯s a mean look. Do it again!¡±


    The two of them shopped for a while longer. Before they separated, Emerelda agreed to meet again the next week for dinner, and to pass on a message for the pro drinkers: They were all invited to opening night at thepleted brewpub.


    ¡ª


    ¡°I ship the gnomess more.¡± Lunara said around a mouthful of sweets as she stretched in her ck chaise lounge chair.


    ¡°I prefer the blue haired one!¡±


    ¡°Emerelda is more his style.¡±


    ¡°Yer all wrong!¡± Barck huffed. "His true love is obviously -."


    "THE GOAT!" An elderly woman cackled with gummy teeth.


    "Yeaarrnn¡­" The assembled Gods moaned.


    ¡ª


    The two of them, the giant and the goof, stood in front of the building. The que upon it read: <i>The Rusty Battleaxe</i>. They stepped aside as a dwarf was tossed out of the building and rolled across the street into a ditch.


    ¡°Are you <i>sure</i> this is the right ce?¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Only one ce called tha <i>Rusty Battleaxe </i>with an owner named Drum around here, Pete. He owns tha only brewpub in town. At least until yers is done.¡±


    ¡°I think that makes him thepetition.¡± Pete frowned.


    ¡°Aye, and you were in tha top ten o¡¯ tha drinkin¡¯ contest. That also makes you a target.¡±


    ¡°A target!?¡± Pete ducked as a table sailed through an open window. Most dwarven buildings didn¡¯t bother with ss, so there was no real damage done.


    ¡°Aye, a target. Tha Honourable Guild of Brewers don¡¯t like us pro drinkers. You almost made the top three, and that¡¯s going to put you on their shit list. Drum is one o¡¯ tha enforcers for the old fusspots. It¡¯s why he runs this brewpub. It lets him keep an ear to tha pulse o¡¯ tha city, especially its undesirables.¡±


    ¡°And I''m undesirable now.¡±


    ¡°Aye, and newpetition to boot.¡±


    Pete sighed. ¡°Sam said I shoulde to Drum if I needed help. I trust Sam, so¡­ let¡¯s do this.¡± He bounced from foot to foot and sang something about the ¡®Eyes of a Tiger¡¯ before stepping through the door.


    The building was arge open space, with a stairway leading up to a second row of seating. A chandelier covered in solstones lit the entire space, and several dozen tables were all full ofughing, jostling, fighting dwarves.


    Pete had to yell to be heard. ¡°IS IT ALWAYS SO NOISY?¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°YES!¡±


    The pair made their way to the bar, which was staffed by a gruff looking dwarf with a shaggy ck beard and an unruly mop of ck and silver hair. His face was etched with scars and a ck eyepatch covered his left eye. His left arm had the telltale silver sheen of a magical prosthetic. As Pete approached the bar, the hand made a *shing* sound, and morphed into a pick. The sharp point smashed a hole into a new keg before the bartender stopped it with a spigot.


    ¡°I need a new keg here!¡± He called towards a swinging door behind the bar and then faced Pete and Rumbob. ¡°What do you two want? Ugh, Rumbob!?¡±


    His hand morphed into an axe, which he thrust in their direction. ¡°Give me a good reason not ta gut you, eh? You get one sentence.¡±


    Pete gulped and paled slightly. Rumbob just looked jolly.


    ¡°Aw,e on Drum. You wouldn¡¯t do that to one of yer best customers!¡±


    Drum snapped his right hand, and his thumb erupted with a small me. He pulled out a cigar and lit it before taking a long drag. ¡°That was two sentences. Could have saved us all a lot of trouble if I¡¯d poisoned yer beer ages ago, Rumbob.¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Yer too much of a perfectionist ta mess with perfection.¡±


    ¡°At least you know perfection. Who¡¯s tha kid? Hmm¡­ wait, aren''t you-¡±


    ¡°Hello, Mr. Drum.¡± Pete stepped forward with a winning, if slightly sick, smile. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. I''m Peter Roughtuff.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Drum was me dad. What do you want? You get one sentence.¡± He took another pull on the cigar and blew the smoke in Pete¡¯s face.


    Pete kept a straight face and avoided turning away or coughing. ¡°Sam sent me, he said you¡¯d be able to help.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Old Sam did, did he?¡± Drum looked Pete up and down. ¡°How do you know him? Take a seat. Congrattions, you¡¯ve earned a chat.¡±


    Pete and Rumbob sat down at the bar. Another dwarf came up to get a drink, and was rebuffed with a snarl and a tossed mug from Drum. Pete told his story, starting from the time he entered the mine, to the sulfur incident, to his first time meeting Sam, and so on and so forth.


    Drum was frowning by the end of it. His cigary on the counter, forgotten. At some point Rumbob had joined a party and the entire table was now singing a rip roaring naughty song called <i>Twa Bearded Lady. </i>


    The chorus went:


    <i>Her beard is fine and golden brown,</i><i></i>


    <i>It hangs in curly locks!</i><i></i>


    <i>The other one is further down,</i><i></i>


    <i>And quivers when she¡­ walks! </i>


    Pete winced.


    ¡°So why did yae to me?¡± Drum asked.


    ¡°I need your help looking into a gnome named Whistlemop.¡±


    ¡°What? Tha merchant?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I need to know his regr movements and where he lives. Stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°Huh, why?¡± Drum drummed his fingers on the counter.


    ¡°I have¡­ business with him. He kind of stole the Whistlemug from me.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Sucks fer you! Well, he¡¯s been gettin¡¯ a bit too big fer his britches. May be good fer him to get shook up. I¡¯ll need ta look into yer story though. What did you say yer name was?¡±


    ¡°Peter Roughtuff.¡±


    ¡°Right, give me a few days. I¡¯ll need ta check with Sam first.¡±


    ¡°You can get word into the prison mine!?¡±


    ¡°Who do ya think yer talkin¡¯ to? Course I can!¡± Drum stood up to leave but Pete stopped him before he got too far.


    ¡°Oh, well in that case. He knows me as Peter Samson. Tell him I said hello.¡±


    Drum paused, his face twitching. ¡°What? Samson? You said yer name was Peter Roughtuff.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I changed it.¡±


    Drum¡¯s face wrinkled. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°No real attachment to it. I never really knew me mum or dad, and I¡¯ve made a new family here in Minnova.¡± Pete shrugged.


    Drum drummed his fingers on the counter. Then his face twisted. Then he chortled. Then he guffawed. Then heughed. Then he roared. He began to beat his metal hand on the counter with glee. ¡°HAW! Never knew! By tha Gods that¡¯s the funniest thing I¡¯ve heard in a goat¡¯s age! Midna¡¯s Mangy Mullet!! HAR HAR HAR!!!!¡±


    Rumbob came over and watched curiously as tears began to leak out beneath Drum¡¯s eyepatch. ¡°What did ya do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡ª


    Barck looked around.


    ¡°You¡¯re <i>all </i>here!? Since when!?¡±


    The various Gods and Goddess looked slightly guilty as he glowered at them.


    Midna put up her hand. ¡°Last week?¡±


    ¡°Grrr¡­ you lot have seven other chosen ta watch!¡±


    ¡°But your beard twitches when youugh!¡± A small elf girl put in. ¡°And you get all pink when the dwarfdiesb their beards!¡±


    Barck¡¯s face slowly turned crimson from his neck upwards.


    ¡°Uh oh! He¡¯s gonna blow! Scatter!¡± Aaron jumped up from the leather couch, spilling a bag of nuts as he did so.


    ¡°YOU LOT!! BUGGER OFF!!!¡±

 Chapter 62: Thirsty Goat Brewpub

    <h4>Chapter 62: Thirsty Goat Brewpub</h4>


    ¡°Come in!¡± Annie waved everyone through the door. The grumble tumbled in from the lush foyer and gawked.


    ¡°Barck¡¯s Beard! What a difference!¡± Emerelda muttered.


    ¡°Wee to the Thirsty Goat Brewpub!¡± I stood ready in my best suit, holding a set of menus to pass to the pro-drinkers as they entered. Johnsson and Richter shouted their own ¡®hello¡¯s as they rolled in arge barrel from the brew floor.


    ¡°What have you got for eats?¡± Beatbox asked as I handed him a menu. ¡°More than nuts, I hope¡­.¡±


    Each menu item was carefully hand calligraphed with a tiny drawing and a clearlybeled price. A little note at the bottom added: ¡®no haggling.¡¯


    ¡°No haggling! How am I supposed to get cheap sausages!¡± Beatbox cried with indignation.


    ¡°We are allowed to set fixed prices.¡± I said with a grin. "City of Minnova Ordinances, Chapter 23, Section 6.¡± I was proud of all my hard work over the past two weeks. Richter beat it into me at some points, but I now had almost half the Ordinances memorized.


    ¡°What are ¡®Pretzels¡¯?¡± Emerelda asked, reading over his shoulder.


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Hey Pete, It looks great!¡± Rumbob eximed, as he bumped past Beatbox to run his hand across the long wooden counter. Bran smiled from the other side and nodded at the kegs positioned behind him.


    ¡°You''re Rumbob right? I¡¯d be happy to pour a drink for tha champion drinker of Minnova.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, I¡¯ll have a mug o¡¯ ale. First round is on Beatbox.¡±


    ¡°Comin¡¯ right up!¡± Bran ced a barrel up onto a curved holder set in the counter. He popped the cork, shoved in a spigot, then began to pour into a mug. The foggy beer barely foamed as it poured into the mug, and the head was mostly gone by the time it reached the end.


    ¡°Excuse you!? Who¡¯s paying?!¡± Beatbox cried.


    ¡°You lost that bet with mest week.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Beatbox grumbled.


    ¡°What is ¡®Fish and Fries,¡± Emerelda muttered as she continued reading, ¡°and how do I not know anything on this menu?¡±


    Chuck grabbed a menu for himself. ¡°Ooh, dese ¡®crisps¡¯ look raight tastee.¡±


    ¡°Oh, they are.¡± In fact, they were <i>damn </i>tasty, if I said so myself. Which I just did. I put them somewhere above Doritos but below ketchup chips. ¡°I also have a little event nned for everyone to christen - er - <i>open</i> this new brewpub.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Annie agreed. ¡°We only have the three kegs right now, so we can¡¯t open up to the public yet. We decided tomemorate the opening with a little drinkingpetition instead.¡± She pointed to a page on the wall behind a pane of ss. The paper was titled <i>Champion GOATS</i>, with spaces for names beneath it. ¡°Pete says the GOAT stands for Greatest of All Time.¡±


    ¡°Well then, I¡¯d like to be a Goat.¡± Beatbox said with a giant grin.


    ¡°So would Pete!¡± Balin quipped from beneath a booth table, where he was doing some finishing touches.


    ¡°Gods damn it, Balin!¡± I groaned. ¡°Yer never goin¡¯ to let me forget that, are you!?¡±


    Annie coughed and hid a blush behind her hand. ¡°Aqua?¡±


    ¡°Yes Ma''am?¡± Aqua popped up from behind the bar, where she had been stocking mugs.


    ¡°Could you take everyone¡¯s orders?¡±


    ¡°Sure! We <i>are </i>going to need to hire someone to do it full time though.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll put it to Dad.¡±


    ¡°Where is Mr. Goldstone?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°He¡¯s out with his guard buddies again. He said that he¡¯d ¡®leave it all to me¡¯.¡± Annie looked somewhat star struck as she looked around the brewpub.


    The new brewpub was greatly changed from the original in mess hall. The enormous painting of a drunken goat still took up one brick wall, but the rest of the space waspletely transformed. Booths lined the walls, and the original long tables were cut down into smaller four dwarf affairs with pic benches. The benches were much shorter than usual, but still long enough to make them unwieldy weapons; a necessity for dwarven bars.


    A framed painting of Penelope was up on one wall with a namete, along with a mishmash of paintings disying the countryside of Minnova. Arge wooden bar took up one whole corner, with a kitchen space behind it. The kitchen waspletely new, and was made to Bran¡¯s exacting specifications. It was nearly identical to the kitchen at the prison mine,plete with magic-stone oven and walk-in fridge. A collection of finely crafted knives hung against the back wall.


    A set of tables in the center of the pub were ced end-to-end in order to make one long table. Rumbob grabbed his now filled mug and pulled out a bench to take a seat. He was joined by the rest of the party as everyone gotfortable.


    ¡°This looks expensive¡­¡± Beatbox mused as he ran his hands along the fine red leather covering a booth seat. ¡°I thought you were tight for gold.¡±


    ¡°We are, but as Pete says, ¡®we need to spend gold to make mithril.¡± Annie shrugged. ¡°We want to capture a permanent clientele while the city still has its eyes on us. We¡¯re aiming to make a ssh!¡± Her slightly manic smile betrayed her true worry about the state of the brewery¡¯s finances.


    ¡°Speaking of a ssh. Does anyone know anyone that can y live music?¡± I added, as I brought out some small bowls and distributed them to everyone. "I want to hire someone for the real grand opening. It''ll be in a day or two, after the current batch is done."


    ¡°I might. I helped a [Bard] get married justst month.¡± Rumbob said between sips.


    ¡°Rumbob knows <i>everybody</i>.<i>¡±</i> Emereleda quipped, her eyes rolling practically out of her skull.


    ¡°Everybody, eh? Well in that case Rumbob, I was hoping you¡¯d put in a good word with the King for me, you see - ¡° I began. The room broke intoughter that was interrupted by the sound of loud, enthusiastic crunching. Everyone turned to look at Chuck, whose ebony face was practically buried in his bowl.


    ¡°You lot need ta trai dese crisps!!!¡±


    Beatbox poked his bowl suspiciously. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Those crinkly wafers are thinly cut erdroot deep fried in sunflower oil and then lightly dusted with my own custom blend of salt and spices. They¡¯re crispy, vourful, and go great with beer.¡± Bran said smugly.


    *crunch* *munch*


    ¡°Mmmmm¡±


    *crackle* *CRUNCH*


    ¡°Barck¡¯s Beard, they¡¯re amazing! They¡¯re not too greasy, but just greasy enough that it makes tha beer taste that much better!¡± Emerelda said after her first bite.


    *ho ho ho* ¡°If these are tha kind of things yer¡¯ servin¡¯, I think tha Thirsty Goat Brewpub is goin¡¯ to be just fine!¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping.¡± Johnsson sighed.


    ¡°Annie mentioned apetition?¡± Emerelda said around a mouthful of chips.


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± I nodded vigorously. ¡°Tania and Rumbob were the only ones that got to do the <i>drinking</i> contest, so I was hoping we could do one here tonight! Speaking of which¡­¡± I looked around. ¡°Where are Tania and Jim?¡±


    ¡°Tania''s dealin¡¯ with Greentree.¡± Chuck said. ¡°An¡¯ Jim¡¯s right ova thea.¡± He pointed to the bar. Jim was seated on one of the stools, eating from a bowl of chips.


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Aqua screamed from where she was cleaning the counter beside him. ¡°When did you get here!?¡±


    ¡°Aaanyways, I figured we could use thest three barrels for an old-fashioned drink off. Winner take all.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s salty about losing the contest.¡± Beatbox said as he took a sip of beer.


    ¡°Yep.¡± Emerelda nodded.


    ¡°Saltier than these crisps.¡± Balin shrugged.


    *ho ho ho* ¡°Pete, there is no shame in losing to a fine dwarven specimen like meself!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not salty!¡± I huffed. There was a chorus of *mhms*. ¡°But I was sad that I didn¡¯t get to do a real drinkin'' contest. Would you all be willing to humour me? We only have three barrels, so we¡¯ll need to say no Milestones or Blessings. The winner gets to have their name up on the GOAT board for opening night¡­¡± My voice trailed off as I looked up for everyone¡¯s approval.


    The grumble looked at each other and then broke into cheers of approval.


    ¡°Of course Pete!¡±


    ¡°I think you''''ll find that what Ick in height I make up for in pure drinking power!¡±


    *ho ho ho* ¡°It will be my pleasure to mop tha floor with all of ¡®ya.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll sit this one out.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare chicken out, Balin!¡±


    ¡°The chicken is a brave and noble animal!¡±


    ¡°Buckaw!¡±


    ¡°[Golden Armor]!¡±


    ¡°Argghh! Mercy!¡±


    ¡ª


    Bodies littered the floor.


    Bran¡¯s limp formy atop his polished counter, and Aqua was stashed somewhere beneath it.


    Balin and Annie cuddled together under a booth, where they had hidden at some point halfway through the carnage.


    Beatbox was simrly cuddling Rumbob, his short form nearly fully enveloped by the massive beard he was using as a nket.


    Emerelda sat on the ground at the foot of the table, and Jimyatose within an empty barrel.


    Johnsson was sprawled on top of the table, and Richter was sprawled on top of Johnsson.


    A single dwarf sat on a bench, nursing an empty mug. He caressed a rectangr object on the table and gazed at it with reverence.


    ¡°Yep. It¡¯s all about the butter.¡± His face turned green.


    *urgh* ¡°Aaron¡¯s Arse, I can¡¯t fix this garbage beer fast enough!¡± Pete ran for the washroom, and made it just in time.


    ¡ª


    Today was the big day. My first time seeing apleted brew in my new life.


    ¡°Attention everyone!¡± Jeremiah said in amanding tone that echoed around the brew floor. We were all assembled there: John, Johnsson, Richter, Aqua, Annie, Balin, and another blue-haired dwarf that I realized with a start must be Aqua¡¯s father, Tom. All the youngsters were a bit hungover afterst night¡¯s party and we collectively winced at Jeremiah¡¯s shout.


    ¡°You¡¯ve all worked hard! And that hard work has been rewarded!¡± He swept his arm around the shining room. ¡°Not a single batch was lost this time. We achieved a <i>perfect brew</i>! Congrattions!!¡±


    There was a raucous cheer. I was really curious about the next step. Usually I would use a beer hydrometer to check forpleted fermentation, but that didn¡¯t exist here; I¡¯d added it to my list of necessary items. It was likely that Jeremiah simply went off of bubbles in the Kr?usen. No new bubbles meant the fermentation wasplete and the beer was ready.


    ¡°As is tradition, the first drink will go to Penelope! Long may she live!¡±


    Aqua brought forward Penelope alongside a wide and shallow mug with a goat motif.


    ¡°Long may she live!¡± Everyone intoned reverentially.


    ¡°Wait, are we really giving the first drink to <i>Penelope</i>?¡± I blurted it out before I could stop myself. Gods, the ce was called the Thirsty Goat and Penelope had a hankering for beer. The dots were all there, Pete!


    ¡°Yes indeed. It has been a secret tradition for Thirsty Goat Brewing to give the first sip of each new batch to Penelope. That¡¯s why our Penelope is the ten-thousand-and-fourth. As long as this brewery stands, there will always be a Penelope.¡± He scratched at Penelope¡¯s floofy head.


    *maaaaah* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Why are you all standing around? Where is my libation, peasants?¡±


    ¡°I think Pete is worried that - ¡° Balin began with a giant grin.


    ¡°If this is another Goat-lover crack, I will <i>END</i> you brother.¡±


    ¡°Never mind.¡±


    The ceremony continued unhindered. A spigot slightly above the floor of the first fermentation tank was opened up and a trickle of amber liquid poured into the mug. Penelope greedily drank it up and gave a happy *maaaah*. Everyone but Balin and I gave a small sigh of relief, and then they broke into a somber, chanting song.


    Another batch is done atst.


    And so the dice of life is cast.


    Bless our brew oh Gods above.


    Fill our mugs with gold and love.


    A perfect brew is much to ask.


    When all we want is one full cask.


    Bless our brew oh Gods above.


    Fill our mugs with gold and love.


    We¡¯ll pop the cork to test the taste.


    Then drink it down, none goes to waste.


    Bless our brew oh Gods above.


    Fill our mugs with gold and love.


    The ritual was repeated at the other dozen-odd tanks, and Balin and I were even able to join in on the song by thest few.


    ¡°Indeed, a perfect brew.¡± Jeremiah said, with a slightly sad smile. Both tion and the weight of age yed across his face. ¡°Richter and Johnsson, start filling barrels. Balin, thanks for your hard work on those, stay and make sure there aren¡¯t any leaks. Aqua, contact our distributors and tell them the beer is back on. Pete, take Penelope back to her pen then go find Annie. Tom, you and John can take the evening off, you¡¯ve earned it. Annie¡­e and see me.¡± He gave me a solemn look as Annie followed him curiously.


    I guessed that meant our moment was up; Annie and I were going to have free rein for the next batch. No big changes, Jeremiah had said, but if we could make a clearer and slightly fizzier beer without any explosions, we had his blessing.


    I had a n for that. One that came with a lot of advertising, and wasn¡¯t against any City Ordinances. A n that wouldn¡¯t break too many traditions and would make a fizzier beer with no risk of explosion. But it was going to cost a <i>lot</i> of money - money we didn¡¯t have right now. The brewpub wasn¡¯t a ¡®get rich quick¡¯ scheme, it was a ¡®get moderately wealthy eventually¡¯ scheme. I needed a quick cash infusion, and I knew where to get one.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to catch a little Whistle<i>rat</i>.¡± I said menacingly. Ooooh, this body could do menacing really well! ¡°It¡¯s <i>time </i>ta catch a <i>RAT </i>in a <i>trap</i>. Muhahahaha!¡±


    ¡°You okay there, Pete?¡±


    "Just somethin'' stuck in my throat! Mu *cough* ha *cough* ha."

 Chapter 63: Stalking Goat

    <h4>Chapter 63: Stalking Goat</h4>


    The crowd had thinned after hisst Whistlemug sold, and Whistlemop was ready to call it a day. He still had to go and check in on thetest batch of Whistlemugs at Ralph and Ralph ssworks, and he had an absolutely <i>massive</i> pile of gold to deposit at the bank. Yes indeed, it was a wonderful day!


    ¡°Thank you for your hard work today gentledwarves.¡± Whistlemop nodded to his guards. They were the best adventurers money could buy, and he paid plenty for them. They did a more than admirable job of keeping the riff-raff away.


    ¡°Of course Mr. Whistlemop.¡±


    ¡°Pleasure ta be o¡¯ service Mr. Whistlemop.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be heading to the bank now. Good work today, Trickledown!¡± He tossed a gold coin to his scribe. The young gnome caught the coin and returned a two fingered salute.


    ¡°Another great day today, Mr. Whistlemop. Here again tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°No. Take the day off! I have some things to work on.¡± Whistlemop thought for a while and then tossed another gold to thed. ¡°Go and have a good time, on me.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Thanks boss!¡±


    Whistlemop shooed the boy away. It was important to keep your employees happy. Especially when they were handling your important paperwork. He knew that a lot of nobles and wealthy merchants didn¡¯t look at things the same way, but they were <i>also</i> one really hard year away from being eaten by their employees.


    One gold to buy some goodwill? That was nothing. Besides, the boy had been nearly beaten half to death by a [Berserker]st week, and this would cate him before he thought about asking for something truly terrible, like injury pay.


    Whislemop closed his cart and applied a few magical defenses. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t <i>trust</i> the Grand Market¡¯s guards, but certain dwarves could be a bit blind when it came to seeing a wealthy gnomish merchant¡¯s wagon being robbed.


    ¡°The bank next.¡± He led the way through the Market to the bank. The Grand Market, being the center ofmerce in Minnova, naturally had a branch office of the Nation of Crack Central Bank. It dealt with levels of wealth that Whistlemop could only dream about. He sent his guards away at the entrance, and was escorted by a smiling [Administrator] to make his deposit at a teller.


    Then he went to the washroom and applied his disguise. He could have taken the guards with him to Ralph and Ralph ssworks, but he preferred to keep the manufacturing location of Whistlemugs a secret. He trusted the guards'' arms with his life, but he didn¡¯t trust their mouths with his livelihood.


    After a short while a cloaked gnome in a wide brimmed hat with a giant red droopy moustache made his way down the bank stairs before disappearing down an alleyway. Whistlemop ducked behind a potted nt and looked back towards the bank. Nobody seemed to be paying him attention other than a white goat at the other end of the square. Whistlemop nodded and exited the alley. He made his way confidently through the Grand Market, sidestepping golems and asionally ducking through shops to dodge any tails. His purposeful meandering eventually brought him to a sidestreet. His steps grew quicker as he traveled towards his destination in earnest.


    Then his gait skipped a beat. Down the street was another white goat, staring at him with rectangr, beady eyes. It *maaahd*. It couldn¡¯t be the same goat, could it? Whistlemop stared at it. It had a beautiful beard and a well maintained pure-white coat. It had to be someone¡¯s pet. What was it doing, standing there alone? Whistlemop stepped into another sidestreet and picked up his pace. After a few twists and turns he came back out onto the main street. He looked around and didn¡¯t see anything. He took a sigh of relief that turned into a gasp as he glimpsed a sh of white in the crowd ahead.


    He began to run.


    Through alleys, through streets. His legs carried him as fast as he could, but his agility was pathetic, and his vitality worse. He was barely faster than a dwarven child, and soon he began to g. At every turn, he was stymied by a sinister *maaah*.


    As he ran down an alley, he careened headfirst into a dwarf walking in the opposite direction. He bounced off with an *ouf* and fell to the ground.


    ¡°Excuse me sir, I - I - I¡¯m in a great hurry if you could please¡­¡± His voice cracked as he looked up at the dwarf standing in front of him. ¡°Peter?¡±


    ¡°Hello Whistlemop. Where are you running off to?¡± Pete¡¯s voice grew menacing. ¡°I was hoping we could have a little¡­ <i>chat.</i>¡±


    ¡°Go-goat-¡± Whistlemop couldn¡¯t speak. He pointed behind him. A white form stood silhouetted at the other end of the alley.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just Penelope. Come say hello to Whistlemop, Penelope!¡±


    There was a sh of white. Then it all went ck.


    ¡ª


    I stared down at the gnome sitting on the chair in front of me. We were in an abandoned building that Drum had cleared out for me. Whistlemop looked exactly as I remembered, though the stupid hat and fake moustache were new. I couldn¡¯t believe that this bedraggled little <i>giarist</i> was one of Barck¡¯s most favoured souls. His eyes were furious, though his gaze turned wary as Penelope came up and nuzzled my hand.


    ¡°Good girl Penelope. Here¡¯s a goat treat, how about you stand.. right over there?¡± I gestured behind Whistlemop and she happily cavorted past him. He shied away as she did, then glowered at me.


    ¡°This is kidnapping!¡±


    ¡°In the most literal sense of the word!¡± I guffawed.


    ¡°You think this is funny? I could have you arrested!¡±


    ¡°But you won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And why would that be?¡±


    ¡°Because you don¡¯t want me making a fuss about your precious ¡®Whistle¡¯ mugs.¡± I pointed out matter-of-factly. He scowled, but didn¡¯t gainsay me.


    I sat down on a chair across from him and pulled over a small side table. I set down a pair of to-go mugs filled with coffee and pushed one over to Whistlemop. ¡°Coffee?¡±


    ¡°You¡­ drink coffee?¡± He said suspiciously.


    ¡°Nectar of the Gods.¡± I took a deep sip and *aahd*. The gnomes made coffee that was nearly as good as a turkish brew I¡¯d gotten from a street vendor in Istanbul. Not Constantinople. Whistlemop red at his own mug suspiciously.


    ¡°It¡¯s not poisoned.¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°You think I can trust you!?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t really have a choice, and besides, you think <i>I</i> can trust <i>you</i>?!¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡±


    *baaaaah* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Your ent is terrible!¡±


    ¡°I - no. I can¡¯t do this.¡± I pointed at his face. ¡°Can you please take off that ridiculous disguise? You look like Yosemite Sam, and I just can¡¯t take this seriously.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Yosemitesam?¡± Whistlemop asked, as he pulled off the moustache and threw it to the floor. ¡°Cursed thing was useless anyway, seeing that you found me so easily.¡±


    Actually, Drum¡¯s men found him; Whistlemop was terrible at disguises. It only took a few days for them to suss out his secret route from the bank to his Whistlemug supplier. From there, it was as simple as offering Penelope some goat treats to herd him towards the pickup point. Penelope was <i>damn</i> smart for a goat.


    I was <i>mostly</i> sure she wasn''t my wife.


    ¡°Yes, well you are awfully difficult to meet, Whistlemop. I <i>tried</i> sending an invitation, but apparently you don''t read your mail!¡±


    Whistlemop grumbled. ¡°My mail gets screened. You weren¡¯t important enough to get passed through to me. I¡¯m too busy for a bunch of whiners whining about getting their hands on my mugs."


    I took another sip of coffee and savored it. The heavy roast was so thick that cream was unnecessary, and the sweet spices made sugar an afterthought. ¡°Could be worse, they could be mbering to get their hands on your jugs.¡±


    Whistlemop¡¯s eyes narrowed and then he hesitantly took a sip of coffee. ¡°Huh, this is the <i>good</i> stuff.¡±


    ¡°Only the best for my dear friend Whistlemop.¡±


    He snorted. Then took another sip. We sat there in silence for a while, sussing each other out. He broke the silence first.


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re here about the Whistlemugs.¡±


    ¡°Oh, what would give you the idea that I would want to talk to you about MY<i> Pilsner ss</i>.¡± I growled. I was getting a bit tired of people taking advantage of me. Bran at least had the decency to save up a bunch of gold for me when he was selling my recipes. Whistlemop took my idea and ran with it, and then <i>lied</i> about it to everyone. He likely had zero intention of ever paying me a single silver. Heck, if I hadn¡¯t invented boomdust, he probably would''ve been wealthy enough to be untouchable by the time I got out. That may have even been his exact n.


    Whistlemop shimmied ufortably in his seat; I hoped it was from a guilty conscience. ¡°I would have been d to pay you something if you asked.¡±


    ¡°I sincerely doubt that.¡± I looked him up and down. ¡°You¡¯re a penny pincher.¡± Though a kindly one, <i>mostly</i>. An odd dichotomy. ording to Drum, he treated his workers well, didn¡¯t cheat his business partners, and was a fairly above-board businessman, all things considered. I guess the sheer <i>wealth</i> offered by Whistlemugs and my status as a locked up convict had been too much of a temptation. ¡°But you <i>owe</i> me.¡±


    He took a petnt drink of coffee and harrumphed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t owe you a single copper. ording to the City of Minnova Ordinances, I - ¡°


    ¡°ording to the City of Minnova Ordinances,¡± I interrupted, ¡°Chapter 56, Subsection 14, anyone that can prove a product was stolen from them canin to a [Judge]. I think I have over two-dozen witnesses that the Whistlemugs were <i>my</i> idea and you <i>stole them."</i>


    Whistlemop gaped at me with a shocked expression. ¡°You know the Ordinances? I thought you were a vagrant!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hold back a chuckle. ¡°I prefer to consider myself <i>fragrant</i>."


    "Oh, <i>something</i> stinks here, and I''m pretty sure it''s your half cocked dwarven intellect! Tell me, have you <i>actually</i> seeded at anything in your entire life? You should be<i> d</i> I turned your ss into an icon!" Whistlemop snapped,tled by my clever wordy.


    I grabbed my chest in faux outrage. "How dare you, sirrah! I''ve been sessful at <i>dozens</i> of ventures. I''ll have you know that I have <iplete</i> confidence in my brews and my sharp business mind.¡±


    It was Whistlemop¡¯s turn to chuckle. ¡°Oh really? Now you¡¯re a businessdwarf?¡±


    I *pshawd* ¡°I¡¯ve forgotten more business than you¡¯ll ever know.¡±


    Whistlemop frowned. ¡°Oh, I did hear something about an injury and amnesia. Are you better now?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    ¡°Congrattions.¡±


    ¡°Why thank you. Speaking of which, I heard about some violence at your shop the other day. Is your scribe doing well?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s much better now. A visit to the [Healer] and a few days off heals most ills.¡±


    We both took sips from our coffee and *aaaahd* in unison.


    ¡°Where were we?¡±


    I smacked my head. I really wasn¡¯t very good at this. ¡°I was extorting you for gold.¡±


    ¡°Ah, right. Well¡­ fine!¡± He threw up his hands. ¡°I¡¯ll give you fifty gold to go away and never darken my doorstep again!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s pathetic! I deserve at least fifty <i>percent </i>for it.¡± I banged the table, slightly upsetting the drinks. Whistlemop shied away and then his face turned beet-red.


    ¡°Fifty percent!? You barely did <i>anything!</i><i>I</i> was the one that bet my entire life savings on the Whistlemugs panning out. <i>I </i>was the one standing in front of the crowds each day selling mugs! <i>I</i> was the one putting his face out there for everyone to judge! You took <i>zero</i> risk, and you think you deserve fifty percent? All <i>you</i> did was set off my [Sense - .¡° He paused mid rant, and looked at me, then he <i>stared </i>at me.


    ¡°Uh, why are you staring at me?¡± I backed up in my seat.


    ¡°You¡­.¡± He reached towards me, then stopped as his eyebrows knit together. His voice grew contrite. ¡°I got my Specialization after I started selling Whistlemugs, you know. I suppose I do owe you for giving me the idea, and I hate that our rtionship has be so strained. It truly was my fault for being greedy, I¡¯m sorry.¡± He bowed his head.


    I stared incredulously. What? ¡°You just used an Ability on me, didn''t you. What did you see? What¡¯s your game?¡±


    ¡°No game. I¡¯ll give you a dozen mithril for the idea and I¡¯m even willing to forget this entire¡­ inconvenience.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t trust this sudden change of heart, and I think you can afford a lot more.¡± I crossed my arms. A dozen mithril was a <i>lot</i>, and I was seriously tempted. But I was done being yanked around, and I didn¡¯t trust this. But¡­ Barck said Whistlemop was ced here to <i>help</i> me.


    ¡°I assure you, I have not actually made that much gold.¡± He held out a hand catingly. ¡°And I honestly wish to put this entire situation behind us.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Psh, you¡¯ve made <i>millions </i>of silver<i>. </i>I¡¯ll bet I could even tell you how much.¡±


    Whistlemop picked up his mug and chugged the entire thing. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and raised his eyebrows at me as he banged the mug down on the table. ¡°Oh? Want to bet?¡±


    I leaned in. ¡°Yeah, why not? Let¡¯s¡­ <i>bet</i>.¡±


    ¡°Hah! You¡¯ll need the help of Barck himself!¡± Whistlemop cackled like some kind of 80s cartoon viin.


    Indeed. <i>Indeed¡­.</i>

 Chapter 64: Worth the Whistle

    <h4>Chapter 64: Worth the Whistle</h4>


    <i>The Good, the *Baaaad*, and the Ugly - A Roughtuffian So</i><i></i>


    <i>Cue whistling and twangy guitar plus cheesy cowboy ent.</i>


    Our scene is set inside a town of mud.


    The sun hangs low and paints the world in red.


    Today''s the day good men will count the dead.


    The dusty dirt will soon be bathed in blood.


    Two shadows cut across the crimson light.


    The ouws enter from each end of town.


    Sweet silence carries on without a sound.


    A tumbleweed rolls past and out of sight.


    As one the two draw guns and fire a shot.


    A sharp retort rings out with puffs of dust.


    No life was cut to stain the ground with rust.


    A noble goates at an angry trot.


    Her angry bahs so fearsome that they fled.


    The ouws chose to go get drinks instead.


    I tipped my imaginary ten-gallon hat. ¡°So tell me¡­ do you feel lucky, punk?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Whistlemop said distractedly. He looked around the room, which was still the secluded building that I¡¯d sequestered him in.


    ¡°Nothing¡­¡± I grumped. ¡°Are you done reading the contract yet? I¡¯m gettin¡¯ bored.¡±


    ¡°Oh, poor you. I¡¯m just about done. It seems¡­ suspiciously fair.¡± Whistlemop tapped the sheet of paper he was holding. ¡°For a meeting that started with kidnapping, I was expecting a few more broken fingers and shouting.¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have even <i>started </i>with kidnapping if you hadn¡¯t forced my hand.¡± I glowered at the little rat. He rolled his eyes and continued reading.


    I''d excused myself to ask Drum for a contract. I didn¡¯t know enough dwarvenw yet to do it myself, and Drum struck me as the kind of dwarf that did. He actually had several standard contracts already written up! Upon my return, I found Whistlemop dismantling the lock, the sneaky little bugger! I¡¯d <i>escorted</i> him back to the table to read over the contract, which was missing one finishing touch.


    ¡°This contract doesn¡¯t actually discuss what I¡¯ll be giving up¡­¡± Whistlemop pointed at arge nk space for conditions.


    ¡°Yes indeed, yes indeed. Whistlemop, let¡¯s talk <i>business</i>.¡± I crossed my fingers.


    ¡°I thought this was a shakedown?¡±


    ¡°It is, but I¡¯ve had some time to think.¡±


    I was suspicious of Whistlemop¡¯s sudden change of heart. It felt a lot like the first time we¡¯d met, when he¡¯d suddenly gotten all agitated and handed me the pilsner ss. That had ended with Whistlemop bing a household name in Minnova. So, I asked Drum about the kind of Milestones and Blessings Whistlemop might have. I knew that Whistlemop was a [Peddler] with his first Specialization, so he probably had some doozies.


    ording to Drum, [Peddlers] were blessed by Aaron and Tiara, which gave them [Sense Deals] and [Move in Aether] as well as [Strength of All: Held and Self]. A Titled individual got improved Blessings, like my [Stoneform] and [sh of Insight]. [Peddlers] got [Sense Good Deals] and [Sturdy Merchandise]. Drum said that [Sense Deals] simply said there <i>was</i> a deal, but the improved version gave an idea of how much. [Sturdy Merchandise] did what it said and was an evolution of [Strength of All: Held]. [Peddlers] usually aimed for Milestones that helped with making money, and their Specializations were focused in that direction.


    In other words, a supernatural merchant spent a short time with me then suddenly decided he needed to get on my good side.


    Why?


    The obvious answer was that I had a lot of otherworldly knowledge. There was a good chance he had a Blessing that told him if someone could bring him a lot of money. Even if I didn¡¯t know how to leverage my knowledge, a born merchant like Whistlemop might. Between the two of us, we could probably do all kinds of crazy things. However, I didn¡¯t trust Whistlemop enough to reveal any of my secrets. Plus, that would just be Whistlemop using me, and I wanted to be the one using Whistlemop.


    Then, I¡¯d been struck by an idea. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. I had some needs, and Whistlemop was <i>just </i>the gnome to fulfill them.


    So, here I was. Ready to discuss <i>business</i>.


    ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, Whistlemop. The bet is: can I guess how much silver you¡¯ve made in revenue by selling Whistlemugs. If I win, I get thirty percent of your Whistlemug profits.¡± I¡¯d decided that fifty percent was a bit much. Whistlemop was correct that he''d done all the hard work, and I wanted to start patching things up between us. A fifty percent cut, even on a bet, was going to cause acrimony.


    ¡°That¡¯s a sucker¡¯s bet.¡± Whistlemop smirked. ¡°Only <i>I</i> have ever seen those records in full.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± I waved thement aside. ¡°But what I want isn¡¯t actually your money.¡±


    Whistlemop¡¯s face twisted in confusion. ¡°Excuse me? I thought that was what this whole thing was about.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yerself. It <i>was</i>. But then I think we both realized that there was a lot more at stake here than just Whistlemug gold.¡±


    Whistlemop flinched. It was the barest little twitch of an eyebrow, but my improved perception caught it. Ha! I got him dead to rights!


    ¡°So here¡¯s what I really want, Whistlemop. I want your expertise. I want your ssworking facility. I want your business acumen. I want your brand, and I want <i>exposure</i>.¡±


    Whistlemop covered his chest and crotch. ¡°You want <i>what!</i>? You pervert!¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°By Aaron¡¯s Arse, I refuse to allow you to brand and expose me! What in theher is wrong with your head!?¡±


    ¡°Agh! Not that kind of brand! No!! Gods!! No!!¡±


    ¡°What other kind is there!?¡±


    I sunk down in my chair. ¡°Ugh¡­ I can¡¯t tell you until our deal isplete. Do you have anything that lets you detect the value of an idea?¡±


    Whistlemop began to shake his head and then paused. ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you that.¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Uh, huh. Well, a brand is something worth a lot of money, but only to the right person. Here¡¯s the deal. I don¡¯t want the entire thirty percent in cash; I mostly want you to <i>bankroll</i> me. You¡¯ll get five percent of any profit that I personally pull in, as well as free consulting, and after ten years we can renegotiate this contract. Think of it as an investment.¡±


    Whistlemop drummed his fingers on the countertop and frowned. ¡°What if you lose?¡±


    ¡°If I lose, then we can look at other options.¡±


    ¡°This seems incredibly lopsided towards me. You''re even offering me a portion of your profit. What''s the catch?¡±


    I smiled, and my estimation of Whistlemop rose a tick. Drum had been correct that he was mostly an honest gnome.


    ¡°No catch. If it worries you, let me guess within ten percent.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure that my method would give me the exact value to the copper and a ten percent wiggle room was something I was aiming for from the start.


    ¡°Five percent.¡± Whistlemop shot back immediately.


    ¡°Eight.¡±


    ¡°Seven.¡±


    ¡°Seven and a half. Nah, screwit, I don¡¯t want to do that much ugly math. Eight. Take it or leave it. It''s an auspicious number.¡±


    Whistlemop *hummed* and *hawwed* and I gave him some time to think. There was a chance Annie would kill me if I bungled this, but I would take that chance. My n for the brewery would work without Whistlemop, but he massively increased the odds of sess.


    ¡°Alright. Fine.¡± Whistlemop nodded and penned it in. ¡°I agree to your terms.¡± I''d done <i>more</i> than enough legal paperwork in my past life, so the contract was easy to read over. After a bit of bickering on the conditions, Whistlemop and I both signed.


    The final contract gave me thirty percent of all the profit on Whistlemugs, backdated one year. It contained a provision that fifteen percent of it would be paid out in cash while the other fifteen percent would be provided in at-cost ssmaking and equipment. I¡¯d learned that he was building a massive factory for his ssworks, and the long term value of free ess to that might possibly exceed my profit share for Whistlemugs. In return I agreed to give him five percent of any <i>personal</i> ventures of mine, and free consulting.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Whistlemop jumped up and stood next to the door. ¡°Tell me the number so I can leave and be done with this farce. When we renegotiate I want to focus on your consulting time and fees.¡±


    I handed him a slip of paper.


    He read it and his jaw dropped. Then he fainted.


    Hah! Bullseye!


    ¡ª


    ¡°You need to tell me how you guessed. Especially if we¡¯re going to be business partners. Was it my ountant? That¡¯s impossible, <i>I¡¯m</i> my ountant. Did you bribe the bank? Did you go through my list of buyers and count them individually? That would have taken <i>days</i> and already be out of date. Was it Trickledown? Did he give you the numbers? I¡¯ll have him hung on a goat and dragged through Greentree!¡±


    I winced. ¡°Oof, is that a punishment here?¡±


    ¡°For treason! Which this is!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t Trickledown, calm yer moustache.¡±


    ¡°Then what was it!¡± Whistlemop was red in the face and ready to pop. It looked great on him.


    ¡°You already figured it out.¡± I shrugged nonchntly.


    ¡°What?¡± Whistlemop paused, clearly distraught. ¡°Which? Was it the bank? Those bastards!¡±


    ¡°Nah, it was Barck. You said it yourself, Barck would need to tell me.¡±


    Whistlemop sputtered. ¡°Do you expect me to believe that?¡±


    ¡°Believe what you want.¡±


    The truth was, Barck practically <i>had</i> told me the number.


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 6/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 100,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 94,225/100,000</i>


    <i>Reward: [Carbonate]</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] /No</i>


    Since Whistlemop was limiting mugs to one per customer until his ss empire scaled up, the number of dwarves I¡¯d influenced was going to be a pretty close match to his total number of customers. That didn¡¯t take into ount the fifty-odd dwarves in the mine, sneaky people that managed to buy multiples, or those that simply weren''t influenced - but it was close enough. The rest was just math, and I was pretty okay at math.


    The New Brew quests started at 2500, then 5000, 10000, 25,000, 50,000, and finally 100,000. It started from zero each time, which meant including the current 94,225 number, Whislemop had sold around 186,725 mugs. Times five silver gave - after some long multiplication napkin math - a total of 933,625 silver. That worked out to over twelve million Earth dors, the little rat bastard. Fifty gold in-<i>deed</i>!


    So, I wrote a conservative 900,000 silver plus or minus four percent, and knocked the bugger out.


    Hah! Who ever said math was useless!


    Other than half my friends in high school.


    I was interrupted from my thoughts by Whistlemop. ¡°Bah! Fine, you win! I¡¯ll see that you are sent some financial statementster tonight at The Drunken Goat.¡±


    ¡°The Thirsty Goat.¡±


    ¡°Whatever! Now tell me about this ¡®branding¡¯ and ¡®exposure¡¯ so I can get something out of this ordeal.¡±


    ¡°Hold yer horses. What was the actual number?¡± I was curious about how close it was.


    ¡°Are you telling me you don¡¯t actually know!? That was a <i>guess!?</i>¡±


    ¡°Maybe, maybe not.¡±


    ¡°Hmph. Well you¡¯ll find outter anyways. It was 935,345 silver.¡±


    My high vitality was all that kept me from passing out. My conservative drop down to 900,000 had nearly cost me. Heck, If I¡¯d agreed to Whistlemop¡¯s seven percent range, I would have gotten it wrong! No wonder he fainted. How was it so much <i>higher </i>than my initial guess<i>? </i>Maybe some dwarves were buying it but not being influenced? I hid my consternation by arranging a piece of paper and pencil. Gnomes and dwarves loved drawing up ns, so pencils and paper were actually pretty cheap. I drew a very recognizable swoosh and pointed at it.


    ¡°Here¡¯s yer lesson. Let¡¯s start with a logo.¡±


    Whistlemop leaned over to look. ¡°It just looks like a curvy checkmark.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, but the magic is in <i>**branding**</i>.¡± I did some jazz hands.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°A logo is a bit like a maker¡¯s mark. You do know how a maker¡¯s mark works, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, absolutely. A maker¡¯s mark indicates that a product is made by a specific craftsman within a city. Most city guilds will not allow someone in the same guild to copy that product exactly. Additionally, a maker¡¯s mark is a symbol of authenticity. Some Milestones can check them.¡±


    ¡°Really? Neat. Now imagine a certain cksmith who makes the <i>best</i> swords. Over time, his swords will be more valuable as the general poption begins to ept the superiority of his work.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Whistlemop waved me on.


    ¡°Don''t rush me! Over time, our hypothetical cksmith''s markes to mean more than the sword does. The sword is no longer what holds value, it is the <i>mark</i> that holds value. **Branding**,¡± <i>jazz hands</i>, <i>¡°</i>means that you don¡¯t just sell a product, you¡¯re selling the <i>idea</i> of a product. A mythos, a <i>brand</i>.¡±


    ¡°What would that¡­¡± Whistlemop trailed off, then his eyes grew wide.


    ¡°You see it? In the current model, if our stabby cksmith makes armor, he has no reputation. However, with <i>**branding**</i> the cksmith¡¯s <i>armour </i>is just as famous as his <i>swords</i>, because it isn¡¯t the <i>sword</i> that¡¯s famous!¡±


    Whistlemop whispered nearly reverentially. ¡°It¡¯s the mark.¡±


    ¡°Right, and you¡¯re already part-way there with your Whistlemug trick. You already <i>are</i> branding, and even have a ¡®logo¡¯ that serves the same kind of purpose as a mark. The logo is your face by the way. It¡¯s an ugly logo, but it¡¯ll do for now."


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°What I want to do, Whistlemop, is turn your work into a powerful brand in Minnova, and then move on to all of Crack. Then I want to get some exposure, which just means you showcase my products, and I¡¯ll ride your coattails with the Thirsty Goat¡¯s newest product.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± He leaned forward eagerly.


    ¡°First, let¡¯s talk about gearing your sswork industry up. Then we¡¯re going to have a little chat about ¡®special editions¡¯. You¡¯re wasting some serious potential, especially with Minnova¡¯s first official drinking contest¡­¡±


    We continuedte into the evening. By the time we were done, Whistlemop left the run-down shack smiling, even under the blindfold.

 Chapter 65: Under Pressure

    <h4>Chapter 65: Under Pressure</h4>


    ¡°Whoof.¡± I gently ced the heavy crate down next to a fermenting tank in the Thirsty Goat and stretched my back. I levered it open with a crowbar and chortled. ¡°Science rules!¡±


    Then I jumped as Annie peaked around the tank. ¡°Ahh! Annie, don¡¯t <i>do </i>that!¡±


    She ignored me and peeked into the crate, pointing at the squat objects sitting within. ¡°What are those? They look like really big potion bottles, or really small milk jugs.¡±


    ¡°Uh, they sort of are. They¡¯re how I n to get better fermentation.¡±


    ¡°How do they work?¡± She picked one up. It was slightly taller than it was wide, and made of a thick transparent ss that tapered up to a fluted neck with a bump in it. Any serious drinker from Earth would recognize it immediately as a belgian ale bottle. ¡°And what¡¯s this thing at the top?¡± She fingered a wire contraption nestled around the neck of the bottle.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lightning stopper.¡± I flipped it open and shut to show how it worked. The thick wire contraption ced a metal and cork cap over the mouth of the bottle, and then levered down to create a strong seal. It was a style often used for kombucha back on Earth.


    Designing a good stopper for my bottles had taken a few days. Cork was abundant in Greentree, but corks weren¡¯t ideal for what I wanted to do here, and bottlecaps requiredrge-scale industrialization. Thankfully, any tinker with half a brain could make a lightning stopper.


    ¡°Why is it called a lightning stopper?¡± Annie asked, popping it open and closed. ¡°Hey, this is kind of fun!¡±


    ¡°You know what? I¡¯m not sure. The original inventor of it was a man by the name of Karl Hutter. At least I think he invented it? He poprized it at a corkpetition, and it became a standard form of bottle stopper for hundreds of years. Maybe he called it that because it could be opened as ¡®fast as lightning¡¯ or some such nonsense.¡±


    ¡°Well, we aren¡¯t on Earth. You can call it what you want.¡± Annie resumed pouring over my ss bottles. There were a dozen, and each would hold nearly a litre of beer.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good point¡­ I think I¡¯ll call them bucks.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because the buck stops beer.¡± I waggled my eyebrows.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Gods, I feel old. I¡¯ll think of a good name for themter.¡± Or not, because I couldn¡¯t be bothered. We¡¯d probably end up calling them Whistlestops for branding purposes.


    ¡°You¡¯re the youngest person in this brewery!¡±


    ¡°Age is a state of mind. Give me a hand filling these bottles. You''ll need to fill them nearly to the brim.¡± I demonstrated.


    Annie took a bottle and ced it on the spigot at the bottom of the fermentor. I was using the newlypleted batch for this. We were out of barrels, and two tanks were sitting full until Balin finished making new ones.


    Ibeled my bottle ¡®1¡¯ with a grease pen. Then I pulled a small box out from under my jacket and opened it. It contained a series of tiny vials filled with clear liquid. I grabbed a vialbeled ¡®1¡¯ and poured it into the bottle, then levered the lightning stopper shut. Annie passed me the next bottle and we repeated this twelve times before cing the bottles back into the wooden crate. The lid was nailed back into ce, and ¡®Bottle Test Number One¡¯ was ready to go.


    ¡°What was in the vials?¡± Annie asked as we looked down at my little science experiment. ¡°And are you nning to sell beer in those bottles? It¡¯s¡­ actually kind of neat! It will make the beer more expensive though." She pulled out her notebook.


    ¡°It¡¯splex, but I¡¯ll be happy to exin while we walk. Your dad said no explosions, so I need to move these.¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?¡±


    ¡°Shhhh!!!!¡± I looked around. I didn''t want to get caught by Jeremiah doing this, since it was maybe a little bit technically against the spirit of our agreement. Not the letter though.


    ¡°No walking! Exin first!¡± Annie hissed, her hands flexing murderously. ¡°I just got put in charge here and you want more boom!?¡±


    ¡°Alright. Alright.¡± I waved my hand at the box. ¡°These bottles are the solution to your carbonation dilemma. At least in the short term.¡±


    ¡°You have my attention.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°How.¡±


    ¡°Getting fermentation just right with open-top brewing is hard. Pressurized fermentation is a lot better, that''s what you tried to do by the way, but it can be really, really dangerous. These bottles are a specific design that''s good at containing high pressure. Same with the lighting stopper. We''ll get to pressurized fermentation eventually, but it¡¯s going to take a lot of time that we don¡¯t particrly have. ¡±


    Well, time we didn¡¯t <i>used </i>to have, but I was keeping my deal with Whistlemop secret for now. The extra <i>pressure </i>of impending bankruptcy was my ticket to making changes in the brewery and I didn¡¯t want to lose that. I felt a bit guilty, but people could get weird about a sudden influx of cash. Like how you were never supposed to tell anyone when you won the lottery. I''d tell everyone after the first new brew wasplete.


    ¡°Since we can''t do any pressurized brewing, and I''m not allowed to add much of anything to the beer, our best bet in the short term is <i>bottle conditioning</i>.¡± I continued.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to guess it involves putting beer in those bottles and waiting? Hey¡­ we could do something like the Whistlemugs with those, couldn¡¯t we?!¡± Annie grew excited.


    ¡°Sort of. It would actually be better if they didn¡¯t turn into collector¡¯s items. We want to incentivize people to return these. To answer your question, you¡¯re correct. Bottle conditioning is a form of secondary fermentation. Secondary fermentation is when you <i>rack</i> -that means pour - yourpleted beer into a barrel and let it sit for a few weeks or months longer.¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°That¡¯s how Light Brew works. I don¡¯t know the specifics since we don¡¯t make it, but I¡¯ve heard chatter amongst other brewers.¡±


    ¡°Right,gers need to secondary ferment in a cold environment for an extended period of time. Any time you do that, no matter the circumstances, it¡¯s secondary fermentation. It does change the taste of the beer though.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t want to change the vour of the beer.¡± Annie shook her head. ¡°Especially not for my first solo batch since-.¡±.


    ¡°Right.¡± I interrupted. ¡°That¡¯s not what we¡¯re aiming for. What we want is very little change of taste with a bit more carbonation. That¡¯s where bottle conditioning, priming sugars, and my Milestonee into y.¡± I pulled an empty vial and showed it to Annie. She took it in her hand and sniffed.


    ¡°It smells¡­ sweet?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± I nodded. ¡°It''s sugar vine.¡±


    Annie rolled her eyes. ¡°You and your sugar.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, well in this case it¡¯s <i>priming sugar</i>. When the fermentation in these big babies is done,¡± I patted one of the giant fermenting tanks, ¡°there are no simple sugars left for the yeast to break down. During secondary fermentation, the yeast begins to attack moreplex sugars and esters in the barrel. We don¡¯t want that, so we add a little bit of priming sugar to the bottle. Wait a week or so while tha yeasts concentrate on that sugar instead and we get more carbonation and alcohol! Tadah! Fizzy beer!¡±


    ¡°That sounds great! But¡­ beer goes bad quickly when we pour it. Most kegs need to be drunk within a week or two.¡± Annie pointed out.


    ¡°That¡¯s where my Milestonees into it! When we pour the beer out of the fermenters, it adds oxygen to the beer, which oxidises and gives an awful taste. I have a Milestone that should prevent that, and Richter is working on something that might help too!¡± I actually had Richter investigating <i>several</i> pieces of magic for me, and I was excited to do my first enchanted brewing! His acquisition of Archie¡¯s Blessing had been lucky timing! I winced as I realised luck probably had nothing to do with it.


    Annie tapped her foot nervously. ¡°We usually try to avoid using Milestones and Blessings during the brewing process. It makes a brewery too dependent on a single individual.¡±


    ¡°Do I hear the voice of ¡®tradition¡¯ speaking?¡± I teased.


    Annie snorted. ¡°It¡¯s a good reason and you know it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. I personally think it¡¯s a waste of literal God-given gifts. It doesn¡¯t really apply in this case though. The Milestone is just a stopgap until I can get the technology working. If you lose me, you lose it all <i>anyway</i> so there¡¯s no real difference.¡± Although I was one to talk. I had [Carbonate]ing down the pipeline with zero intention of using it outside of carbonating my own drinks. I guess I subconsciously agreed with her.


    Annie¡¯s face fell. ¡°Please don¡¯t talk like you¡¯re going to suddenly die on us Pete. That¡¯s bad luck!¡±


    ¡°We can reduce that chance by getting these bottles to the cart outside."


    Annie grimaced as she helped me carry the box out to an awaiting goat-cart pulled by Penelope. ¡°Just, be careful. If something happens to you, Balin will never forgive me.¡±


    Well <i>that</i> wasn¡¯t ominous at all.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Are these really that dangerous?¡± Whistlemop asked as he looked over the twelve bottles. Each of them was contained within a separate solid steel container inset with heavy ss panels.


    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t actually know the correct ratio to use for the sugar vine, so I tried twelve different amounts. Each of those bottles has an increasing amount of sugar added, and some of them are <i>absolutely</i> going to turn into <i>bottle-bombs</i>. The carbon dioxide will -¡± I paused and nced at Whistlemop, who was decidedly <i>not</i> taking notes.


    ¡°Never mind.¡±


    *Tch* Whistlemop tsked. ¡°I¡¯d be willing to pay you a good amount for the secret to dwarven brewing techniques.¡±


    ¡°Not happening.¡±


    ¡°For an extra ten percent on the Whistlemugs?¡±


    ¡°Not for one hundred. Even this feels like I¡¯m giving away a bit too much.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, since I have you, I wanted to show you the special edition we were talking about the other day.¡±


    Whislemop brought me over to a small table in the warehouse we¡¯d bought. A cloth was ced to artfully hide an object on top. Whistlemop whisked it off with panache.


    ¡°Tadah!¡±


    The ss on top of the table was instantly recognizable as a Whistlemug - with a few changes. The usual image of a winking gnome was still there, but the other side now had the crest of Minnova on it. There were some tiny etchings of drinking paraphernalia and fancy lettering that said ¡®Minnova¡¯s First Decamillenial Drinking Competition.¡¯


    I looked it over, admiring the workmanship; the Ralphs were <i>great</i> at their job. ¡°Are you really allowed to use the city crest in your work?¡±


    Whistlemop took the mug back. ¡°I have to pay a tax to do so, but yes. Are you sure I can really charge double for these? I haven¡¯t raised prices because I was afraid of pushing customers away.¡±


    ¡°Oh absolutely. Maybe even more.¡± I waved the worry off. ¡°You aren¡¯t increasing the price of your Whistlemugs, you¡¯re releasing a ¡®special limited edition¡¯. With a personal rmendation from one of the top ten drinkers in Minnova.¡±


    ¡°And I can keep doing that?¡± Whistlemop stared at his reflection in the depths of the ss and I could practically see the greed in his eyes.


    ¡°Then it wouldn¡¯t be a <i>limited</i> edition.¡±


    ¡°Ah, then we can only do it once.¡± Whistlemop sighed. ¡°Though¡­ why limit it to just the drinking contest? I could do one for every holiday! For every local event! I could partner with the adventurer¡¯s guild, or the church!¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it! Remember, when this goes on sale I want that poster of me put up on your wagon.¡± The poster was my first attempt at advertising. Putting stuff up around the <i>city </i>was illegal, but there was nothing stopping merchants from putting up signs on their <i>own</i> wagons or stores. The poster featured a picture of me holding a Whistlemug and the slogan, ¡®I use Whistlemugs to speed drink all my favourite Thirsty Goat beers.¡¯


    It was a work of art.


    Whistlemop frowned. ¡°Will it really help sales?¡±


    I sighed. He still had so much to learn. ¡°I need to talk to you about celebrity endorsement.¡±


    I looked over my experiment and added the final step, though I wouldn¡¯t know if it was sessful for at least a week. ¡°[Stabilise Mixture]!¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say that aloud, you know.¡±


    ¡°Spoilsport.¡±

 Chapter 66: Hopback

    <h4>Chapter 66: Hopback</h4>


    *knock* *knock* *knock*


    ¡°Balin, do you want to get that?¡± I rolled over in my bed. The two of us were sharing a tenement room a little ways away from the brewery. We finally had enough money to live independently, and I refused to allow my brother to live under the same roof as the woman he was courting. ¡°Ugh, what <i>time</i> is it?¡±


    *groaaaan*


    Not that it mattered. He still snuck out to make out with her every night.


    *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*


    ¡°Argh, fine, I¡¯ll do it. ONE MINUTE! Wake up Balin, we¡¯re installing the hopback today.¡±


    *GROOAAANNN* was my only answer.


    I put on a tunic and leather pants and made my way to the door. I tried to pat my beard down, but I always had the <i>worst</i> morning beard, and it poofed up practically to my eyes. The knocking grew louder. ¡°Don¡¯t get Lunara¡¯s Lace in a knot!! I¡¯min¡¯!!¡±


    I swung the door open.


    A red false-moustachioed gnome in a wide brimmed cowboy hat and cloak stood at my door. He looked panicked.


    ¡°Whistlemop? Do you have any idea what time it is!? Why are you in that dumb disguise?¡±


    ¡°Pete, it worked too well!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    *Bing!*


    <i>Quest Complete: New Brew 6 Great Work!</i>


    <i>Gained: [Carbonate]</i>


    <strong>Congrattions!</strong>


    <i>You have obtained 5 Milestones and maybine them into a Specialization!</i>


    <i>Do you wish tobine [Outworlder], [Stabilize Mixture], [Carbonate], [Ingredient Scan], and [Bottomless Barrel] into a Specialization?</i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>Quest: New Brew Part 7/10</i>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 1,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i>


    <i>Influence: 345/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Reward: [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]</i>


    <i>ept Quest?</i>


    <i>[Yes] /No</i>


    My eyes bugged out, and I barely registered the fact I could now properly Specialize. Barck said I¡¯d like what I got for New Brew 7, but this was something else!


    ¡°Is that what I think it is!?¡±


    Whistlemop whirled around, ¡°What! Did they follow me!?¡±


    ¡°Ergh, never mind. Get in here.¡± I pulled him in and mmed the door, my mind whirling with the thought of <i>magic</i>.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Careful.. Careful¡­ A little to the left Richter. A little right. Ok, stop there. Johnsson, start putting in the fasteners.¡±


    Richter heaved therge contraption into ce and Johnsson began hammering nails. I clutched my head as the ringing echoed in my ears and moaned. Annie stood at my side and nodded.


    ¡°It fits almost exactly. Great work on the trusses, Balin.¡± She gave him a thump on the back and he groaned and nearly fell over.


    ¡°Bad morning you two?¡± She asked. Then winked. ¡°Or a busy night?¡±


    ¡°We were awoken by a rather annoying acquaintance.¡± I grumbled, my eyes ck-rimmed. We hadn¡¯t really gotten a chance to eat breakfast; Whistlemop had been way too energetic. He was currently hiding in our tenement room. On the bright side, we likely had a <i>lot</i> of golding in. On the downside¡­


    ¡°There¡¯s a riot in the Grand Market!¡± Aqua burst in through the door, and Balin and I moaned some more. She looked confused. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind tham.¡± Richter put in as he stepped away from the tall wooden structure. ¡°Balin and tha miss were keepin¡¯ tha rest o¡¯ us awake till tha wee hours. Pete¡¯s jast not a mornin¡¯ person.¡±


    Annie turned scarlet and Aqua wolf-whistled, then looked around guiltily to see if Jeremiah had heard. Luckily for Balin¡¯s good health, he wasn¡¯t in. Actually, he hadn¡¯t been in the brewery all that much recently.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t get my coffeeeee.¡± I whined.


    ¡°A riot?¡± Johnsson asked, as he finished hammering.


    ¡°Yep!¡± Aqua said excitedly. ¡°It started in the central square and spread to the main stores! Nobody knows what caused it yet, but the city guard are out! It¡¯s the most exciting thing I¡¯ve heard of in decades! Anyone want to go?¡±


    There was a chorus of ¡®No¡¯s. Aqua¡¯s face fell.


    ¡°A, not even you, Pete?¡±


    ¡°I <i>just</i> got out of jail. Why would I risk it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, good point. Aww, biscuits. That would have been fun.¡±


    I walked over and patted her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll take you to Raspi¡¯s next concert to make it up for you.¡±


    She brightened up immediately. ¡°Your treat?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Johnsson looked at us suspiciously. ¡°Are you two datin¡¯?¡±


    Aqua and I looked at each other then burst outughing.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Sooo¡­ what is that?¡± Aqua asked a whileter, after all theughter died down. Johnsson had left to ensure our daily shipment of erdroot was still arriving, and Balin was double-checking the contraption that now stood nestled between the boiling kettle and the mash tun.


    It was arge metal bowl, roughly the size of the kettle. We''d attached it to the existing scaffolding so that it made a neat triangle with the mash tun and boil kettle. Arge funnel attached to the side of the bowl was ced to ept the trough that usually went from the boil kettle to the fermentation tanks. Arcane runes marked its surface, which made it look <i>quite</i> different from the copper boiling kettle and wooden mash tun.


    ¡°Do you want to exin?¡± I asked Annie.


    ¡°Love to.¡± She gave a grand gesture to the bowl. ¡°I present to you, Erd¡¯s first hopback.¡±


    ¡°Hopback?¡± Aqua repeated, her mouth feeling the word. ¡°Does it have something to do with hopping?¡±


    I chuckled, though Annie ignored it as she answered. ¡°No. It¡¯s a way to improve the rity of our beer. Come see. Richter, can you start a mash going? I want to check if this all works like Pete says it will. Charge the runes first, though.¡±


    ¡°Aye miss.¡± He gave a small salute.


    ¡°Oh you of little faith.¡± I muttered.


    Annie elbowed me in the ribs. ¡°You¡¯ve never used enchanting before, so this is new to you too. There¡¯s no guarantee it will work.¡±


    ¡°Eh, the principles are the same. The only difference is that I¡¯m using magic to do it. Which is <i>awesome</i>, but most of the actual magic got done by a family of hyperactive gnomes with fancy crystal tools. <i>I</i> want to do the magic.¡±


    Aqua and Annie both nodded. They, like all beings, could understand the awesome that was magic.


    ¡°Well, maybe we¡¯ll get lucky with a Milestone from using magic in our beer production.¡± Annie pointed out as we climbed the stairs to the upper catwalk.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe that the methods for getting Milestones aren¡¯t documented.¡± I whined. ¡°Considering how hidebound our society is, I¡¯m surprised more stuff like that isn¡¯t bound in hide.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The two chorused.


    I mimed opening and closing a book. ¡°Books. Why aren¡¯t there books on how to get Milestones?¡±


    ¡°Oh, lots of reasons!¡± Aqua said cheerfully. ¡°Most of the time people don¡¯t figure out the exact method, they just get lucky. Other times it''s because the Titled folk just don¡¯t really care to research it, they¡¯re too busy doing what they love.¡±


    ¡°The methods can change too.¡± Annie put in. ¡°But the main reason is that it''s controlled information. It¡¯s actually a major point of contention right now. The nobility hoard that knowledge and don¡¯t allow the greybeards to share it.¡± She shook her head.


    We arrived next to the bowl. Up close there was a slight hum, and Aqua shivered as the temperature dropped a few degrees. ¡°It¡¯s cold?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Annie nodded. ¡°The bowl is actually a chiller..¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Aqua¡¯s teeth chattered. ¡°It¡¯s freezing!!¡±


    I added a note to my notebook about ambient magic leakage. We¡¯ll need to be careful of that in the future.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that cold.¡± Annie chided. ¡°Let me start from the beginning. Do you see that funnel? The hot wort gets poured into it from the boiling kettle. The funnel is filled with some branches used in our bittering agent in a heavy bup bag. We¡¯ll need to change the branches out every day or so, but it isn¡¯t a major expense.¡±


    ¡°What branches?¡± I asked, my pen at the ready. Annie had refused to tell, only providing a full bup bag in exchange for a promise not to peek.


    ¡°Good try.¡± She smirked. ¡°The hot wort passing through the branches pulls out some of the oils and adds aroma, but not much vour. The bup acts as a filter, to remove any of the mash or bittering agents that got into the wort. It¡¯ll make for a stronger-scented and cleaner beer with less chance of yeast contamination.¡± She looked at me for confirmation.


    I nodded. ¡°Good so far.¡±


    ¡°Wait, how do you know all this?¡± Aqua interrupted.


    ¡°Pete told me.¡± Annie shrugged.


    ¡°How does <i>Pete </i>know?¡±


    ¡°I learned of it a long time ago in a gxy far far away.¡±


    Aqua¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Ok, how is that <i>true</i>? Are you pulling my beard?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re distracted, Aqua! Pete¡¯s weirdness is <i>not</i> the topic!¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    Annie continued, pointing at the metal bowl. ¡°After it passes through the filter, the hot wort flows into this enchanted bowl. The runes on the side cause it to be chilled rapidly. See those vertical prongs in it? They help maximize the amount of liquid that gets affected by the enchantment.¡±


    ¡°Why chill it?¡± Aqua leaned in to look at the runes. ¡°Who designed these?¡±


    ¡°Richter.¡± I pointed at the runes. ¡°His new Title allows him to see mana structures, and he used it to help me get everything just right. I had some ns for the engineering side, but the magic side is all him. It¡¯s a good thing - a local family of [Enchanters] did all the engraving and they were going to charge a <i>lot</i> more if they had to design it too.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of which.¡± Annie looked askew at me. ¡°How <i>did </i>you afford this.¡±


    ¡°I made some money.¡± I prevaricated.


    ¡°Nothing illegal, I hope?¡± She pushed.


    ¡°I am not nning on going back to jail.¡±


    ¡°See!?¡± Aqua threw up her hands. ¡°Weasel words!!¡±


    ¡°I can promise that the money was deserved.¡± I poked Aqua in the side and she squeaked.


    ¡°Hmmm. Good enough I suppose. Where was I? Right, the chilling. Quickly chilling the wort causes the proteins and tannins to drop out of the wort as a crud called <i>cold-break</i>. Those are usually what make the beer cloudy and astringent, though Pete says <i>tannins </i>aren¡¯t a concern with our beer.¡± She looked at me for confirmation. I nodded. ¡°After that, the cooled wort gets run through that trough to the tanks like usual and we clean the cold-break out of the bowl.¡±


    ¡°Tannins?¡± Aqua chattered, as she began to visibly shiver. I added another note to my book and she glowered at me. ¡°Are you using me as a test subject?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it, Aqua. Let¡¯s go back down.¡± Annie put a hand on Aqua¡¯s shoulder and guided her away.


    I stayed behind and stared down at the hackjob magitech abomination I¡¯d created with the Erdian magical equivalent of duct tape. It was beautiful.


    ¡°Are youing, Pete?¡± Annie asked as they headed down the stairs.


    ¡°Later. I need to talk to you and Balin sometime this afternoon. Can you set aside some time?¡±


    ¡°Sure, is it important?¡±


    ¡°To me.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Do this first test with Richter while I get Aqua warmed up, and we¡¯ll chat after.¡±


    ¡°Works for me.¡±


    ¡°Mebbe you cane and help turn tha wheel, Pete?¡± Richter called from below.


    I ignored him and stared at my beautiful, <i>magical</i>, invention. Soon Pete, only¡­ a million dwarves to go.


    ¡°Any taim now.¡±


    ¡°Fiiine.¡±

 Chapter 67: Specialized

    <h4>Chapter 67: Specialized</h4>


    ¡°Alright, Pete. What was so important it couldn¡¯t wait?¡±


    Annie and Balin sat across from me in Annie¡¯s office. It was a new office attached to the brew room floor that Balin built for her. A picture window looked out over the brewery, and the only furnishings so far were a simple wooden desk and a trio of in stools.


    ¡°I need to make an important decision. Thest time I did this I kind of rushed it, and this time I want to seriously talk it over with someone first.¡±


    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Annie said with trepidation. ¡°<i>What is it</i>?¡±


    ¡°You can tell us whatever you need, brother.¡± Balin patted me on the knee.


    ¡°Thank Balin. Okay, here it is. I have my first Specialization. Tadah!¡± I gave a ¡®surprise¡¯ gesture, though they were both <i>actually </i>surprised enough that they didn¡¯t react for a few moments.


    ¡°Really? Congrattions Pete!¡± Balin thumped his chest and then pumped his fist.


    ¡°That was obscenely fast.¡± Annie said, frowning. ¡°You weren¡¯t even Blessed a year ago. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of anyone getting their Specialization so quickly. Come to think of it¡­ Bran, Richter, Balin, you, me. There have been a <i>lot</i> of Blessings going around.¡±


    I ignored thatst part, no need to freak them out. ¡°I get Milestones quickly because of my quests.¡±


    ¡°What quests?¡± Annie and Balin said together.


    ¡°I get rewards forpleting certain tasks. It¡¯s part of my [Otherworlder] Milestone and helps me grow faster..¡±


    Annie gasped. ¡°That¡¯s practically cheating!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and it gives me stats too.¡±


    ¡°Now isn¡¯t that somethin¡¯! Yer goin¡¯ to be a right powerhouse someday Pete!¡±


    ¡°I asked you to stay because I wanted yer thoughts on the Specialization options. You may have some insights Ick.¡± I put out my hands, pleadingly. ¡°Can you help?¡±


    They looked at each other and nodded.


    ¡°Aye!¡±


    ¡°No question! What are your options?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s find out!¡± I chose five milestones and pulled up the Specialization notification.


    Specialization!


    Do you wish tobine [Otherworlder], [Stabilize Mixture], [Carbonate], [Ingredient Scan], and [Bottomless Barrel] into a Specialization?


    Yes/No


    I hit ¡®yes¡¯ and a new notification popped up.


    You have decided to Specialize! Specialization is an important decision that will guide your future growth. Your selected Milestones willbine to give you powerful new Blessings that will help you down your chosen path. Choose wisely, for what you choose wille to define you.


    The following four Specializations are avable.


    Dimensional Drinker


    Otherworldly Brewer


    Aether Alchemist


    Chosen Alchemist


    ¡°I¡¯ve got four different options.¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°You should be able to focus on them to learn more. Start with the first one and we¡¯ll discuss it.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± I focused on [Dimensional Drinker] and began to read aloud.


    <strong>[Dimensional Drinker]</strong><strong></strong>


    As an [Alchemist] you have always pushed for greater vor, and your desire for alcohol pushes you towards the path of a [Drinker]. As an otherworlder, you have tasted drinks that no other mortal in this realm canprehend, and as a [Dimensional Drinker], you will be able to share that experience.


    Combine [Bottomless Barrel] and [Otherworlder] into the Blessing [Dimensional Barrel].


    Combine [Stabilize Mixture] and [Ingredient Scan] into the Blessing [Preservation Field].


    The milestone [Carbonate] is not affected.


    Go forth young dwarf, and <i>drink!</i>


    Increases the chance of developing drinking Milestones and the chance of finding hidden alcohol.


    <strong>[Dimensional Barrel]</strong>


    Your spirit has found a new spark! Your mental statistics remain reced with their previous values and you gain a greater memory of what once was. You can touch an empty container and for the next one minute, a non-magical drink of your choice can be poured out of it. If the liquid is not poured into an appropriate container or imbibed within the next twenty-four minutes, it disappears.


    This ability can only be used once per hour.


    <strong>[Preservation Field]</strong>


    You can stabilize all food and drink within a 12 meter radius of where you use this ability. Reduce any toxicity or instability and increase shelf life by one day per use.


    This ability can be used once per hour.


    ¡°I want it!¡± By Barcks¡¯ Beautiful Beard, this was the greatest thing I¡¯d ever seen!


    ¡°Take it!¡± Annie nearly jumped out of her chair.


    ¡°Could you make liquid mithril with that?¡± Balin mused. We both looked askance at him.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good question¨C" I began, but Annie interrupted.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter! Dad has a Blessing that can tell him theponents of a drink! If you pour alcohol from your world, he¡¯ll be able to recreate the recipe!¡±


    ¡°You know? I don¡¯t actually know what Mr. Goldstone¡¯s Title is.¡± I mused.


    ¡°You don¡¯t? He¡¯s an [Ancestral Brewer]."


    ¡°That¡­ is the most dwarvish thing I¡¯ve ever heard of.¡±


    ¡°It is, and it¡¯s annoying.¡± Annie sighed. ¡°The Milestones for it are a secret of the Honourable Guild of Brewers, and you have to take an oath to be given the process for getting them. I don¡¯t really need it, but Dad was barely driven enough as a brewer to get his Title, let alone his Specialization.¡±


    ¡°So, you think it¡¯s the best bet?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Take it now. Everything you¡¯ve told me about your world¡¯s alcohol makes me incredibly curious. It¡¯s possibly invaluable if we sell tastings.¡±


    ¡°Maybe¡­ though I can <i>make</i> a lot of, if not most of, those drinks with enough time anyway.¡±


    On the other hand, there was a good chance that creating an alcohol with [Dimensional Barrel] would mean Barck could create it too. A possible deific reward there? Or maybe not, given what he told me about his ¡®punishment¡¯. [Preservation Field] was a bit of a dud, though it would be helpful around our new kitchen. Overall it looked perfect, but for one small problem¡­


    I read it again, carefully. ¡°[Bottomless Barrel] removed the wording for ¡®easier Blessings and Milestones¡¯. I think I¡¯d lose my quests.¡±


    ¡°Ouf¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a pretty tough trade.¡±


    ¡°It does put a damper on things. Higher Specializations are a lot more powerful, right? I¡¯d be tradin¡¯ unlimited delicious drinks for faster progression. I¡¯ll... need to think about it.¡±


    ¡°A dwarf usually needs decades or even centuries to get their <i>first</i> specialization.¡± Annie mused. ¡°That is actually a really tough choice.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s look at the next option then.¡± I opened it up.


    <strong>[Otherworldly Brewer]</strong>


    As an alchemist, your endeavors pushed you towards the humble art of brewing alcohol. While a regr [Brewer] constantly seeks out new ingredients and opportunities to further their craft, an [Otherworldly Brewer] transcends worlds to do so.


    Combine [Carbonate] and [Stabilize Mixture] into the Blessing [Refine Brew]


    Combine [Otherworlder] and [Ingredient Scan] into the Blessing [Minimap]


    The Milestone [Bottomless Barrel] is not affected.


    May your brew be you and to yourself be true.


    Increases the chance of developing brewing Milestones and the chance of brews being sessful.


    <strong>[Refine Brew]</strong>


    You are able to refine and stabilize a container of alchemical liquid with a touch. If the brew contains any unstable magical aethers they will be forced into equilibrium. The brew will be more nutritious and have a longer shelf life.


    You can use this ability once per second.


    <strong>[Minimap] </strong>


    Your spirit has found a new spark! Your mental statistics remain reced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain blessings and milestones! You also gain a minimap to help find your way around this new world. People and monsters as well as majorndmarks will be marked on your minimap. You can also mark crafting ingredients or quests and quest items.


    This ability is always avable.


    I liked it. I liked it a lot. But¡­


    ¡°[Dimensional Drinker] is better.¡± Annie said firmly and I hesitantly agreed.


    ¡°I dunno, Annie.¡± Balin put in. ¡°This feels a lot more like Pete. He <i>likes</i> drinkin¡¯ but he seems ta <i>love </i>brewin¡¯.¡±


    They both looked at me, and I slowly nodded. I did love beer. And wine. And whiskey, and rum, and a dozen other drinks, but they were just what I loved to drink. What I <i>was</i> was a brewer, and this Specialization practically defined me. It didn¡¯t have anything fancy like<i></i>[Dimensional Barrel], but [Refine Brew] sounded helpful, and the reference to ¡®magical aethers¡¯ appealed to me. Especially with [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]ing down the pipeline.


    [Minimap] was just straight up cool, and a staple of any good fantasy adventure. Being able to spot monsters and quest items could be life-saving. Imagine if I¡¯d had that back in the mine!? It also mentioned crafting ingredients; would I be able to set the filter to ¡®hops¡¯ or ¡®bitters¡¯ and see them on the minimap? That would make shopping so much easier than wandering around pinging [Ingredient Scan].


    I read it again. ¡°It¡¯s nothing special, but it¡¯s solid. It also keeps my quests as far as I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Another thing to keep in mind Pete, is that further Specializations build on your first one. There¡¯s also a focus on brewing Milestones, which means you¡¯ll be more likely to unlock more brewing specific Specializations.¡± Annie pointed out.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ good point. I¡¯ll put it <i>just </i>below [Dimensional Drinker] for now. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s next.¡±


    <strong>[Aether Alchemist]</strong>


    As an [Alchemist] you focused on the study of aether; yours was the path of fire and water. As an [Aether Alchemist] you gain greater control over your craft, and as an otherworlder can even pass through to the realm of Aaron himself.


    Combine [Otherworlder] and [Carbonate] into the Blessing [Aether Form]


    Combine [Bottomless Barrel] and [Stabilize Mixture] into the Blessing [Form Aether]


    The Milestone [Ingredient Scan] is not affected.


    Take to the sky and be one with your new element!


    Increases the chance of developing Aether Milestones and increases Aether affinity.


    <strong>[Aether Form]</strong><strong></strong>


    Your mental statistics remain reced with your previous values, and you are more likely to gain blessings and milestones. You have decided to eschew your new spark, and can now convert your body fully into an aether of your choice. Your physical statistics change based on the type of aether chosen for twenty-four minutes.


    This ability can be used once per hour.


    <strong>[Form Aether]</strong>


    You can touch a container that contains no more than twenty-four liters of non-magical liquid and gain total control of it. For the next twenty-four minutes, the aether within the container will expand, and can be shaped and molded by your will alone. Additionally, you canmand the aether to be more or less solid.


    This ability can only be used once per hour.


    ¡°That¡¯s a powerful set of Blessin¡¯s right there." Balin said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the power in [Form Aether].¡± Annie frowned. ¡°Though turning your body into aether is a coveted Blessing. Most don¡¯t see it until their third or fourth Specialization. Your [Otherworlder] Milestone seems to grant very powerful effects. That¡¯s likely why you are being forced tobine it at your first Specialization; it would be far too powerfulbined at a higher Specialization.¡±


    ¡°[Form Aether] would turn me into a water-bender!¡± I said excitedly. ¡°And does [Aether Form] mean I could fly? Or turn into fire? Or invisible? That¡¯s amazing!¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± Annie nodded. ¡°All of those, though I don¡¯t know what bending water means. The utility is what makes it so powerful. You¡¯d also be nearly immune to physical damage.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know if it¡¯s ¡®you¡¯ though, Pete.¡± Balin said.


    I had to agree. It was super cool, and if I wanted to move towards being an adventurer, it would be an amazing Specialization. Then my mind wandered towards enormous ants wreathed in me. I shivered; no adventuring for this young dwarf, no siree!


    ¡°I agree with Balin.¡± I said, and cut off Annie¡¯s protest. ¡°It¡¯s just not me.¡±


    ¡°I can see that, it¡¯s a shame though.¡± She sighed. ¡°What¡¯s thest option?¡±


    I choked as I scanned the next Specialization, and looked askance at Balin and Annie. They smiled back expectantly, their eyes full of happy curiosity. They always did right by me, and they were my new family. A family couldn¡¯t be built on lies, and between the Whistlemugs and the amnesia thing, I was getting a bit toofortable doing just that. I took a deep breath and began to read aloud.


    <strong>[Chosen Alchemist]</strong>


    You did not choose to be an [Alchemist]; you were chosen. While some struggle to find their way in life, you have already lived fully, and been God-given the chance to do it again. As a [Chosen Alchemist] you bear Barck¡¯s Blessing and a path paved with power.


    Combine [Otherworlder] and [Stabilize Mixture] into the Blessing [Stable Otherworlder]


    Combine [Bottomless Barrel] and [Ingredient Scan] into the Blessing [Barck¡¯s Box]


    The Milestone [Carbonate] is not affected.


    Stride boldly Chosen, and change the world!


    Increases the chance of developing spark Milestones and the chance to find rare alchemical ingredients.


    <strong>[Stable Otherworlder]</strong>


    Your spirit has found a new spark but denies its influence with the blessing of Barck. Your mental statistics remain reced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain Blessings and Milestones. Any influence your body has had on your mind is reversed, and any future influence is greatly reduced. Grants greater resistance to mental and bodily maniption as well as increased resistance to all elements and damage. Long may you live!


    This ability is always active.


    <strong>[Barck¡¯s Box]</strong>


    An alchemist often needs to forage for their own ingredients, but you are able to make your own. You can touch a container that contains no less than twenty-four grams of non-magical biological matter and grant it a touch of infinity. For the next one minute, anything you remove from the container and use in your alchemy does not reduce the amount of material in the container. If the material is not used in some form of alchemy within the next sixteen minutes, it disappears.


    You can use this ability once per hour.


    When I finished reading, Annie¡¯s eyes were zed over and Balin¡¯s mouth was practically below his cor bone. Annie yelled first.


    ¡°BY ALL THE BITS OF THE GODS! WHAT!?¡±


    I was totally stealing that.

 Chapter 68: Chosen Path

    <h4>Chapter 68: Chosen Path</h4>


    ¡°I WANT BARCK¡¯S BOX!¡± Annie almost screamed and then mped her hand over her mouth. She flushed crimson.


    ¡°Phrasing?¡± I muttered. ¡°Also, keep the volume down.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a crazy Specialization, Pete.¡± Balin said, slightly shell shocked. ¡°I know you said you ¡®worked things out¡¯ with Barck, but all of that¡¯s a bit more than ¡®worked things out¡¯. A lot of ¡®chosen¡¯ and ¡®yer God¡¯ bein¡¯ bandied about¡­¡±


    ¡°Who cares!¡± Annie hissed, her face still a wild red. ¡°It''s insane! For your first Specialization!? Take it!¡±


    ¡°I dunno¡­ I still prefer [Dimensional Drinker].¡± [Chosen Alchemist] was pretty amazing. But¡­ ¡°There¡¯s a lot of really big problems with [Chosen Alchemist], Annie.¡±


    ¡°What possible problems? No, never mind. Let me write the exact text down in my notebook first.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­.¡± I began.


    ¡°I¡¯ll burn it in the furnace after.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Geeze, Pete, I¡¯m a brewer. If there¡¯s one thing we do well it¡¯s privacy.¡±


    ¡°Smart. Balin, can you write it in my notebook too?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± I passed him my notebook and he grabbed a pencil. ¡°Go.¡±


    I read the Specialization again.


    <strong>[Chosen Alchemist]</strong>


    You did not choose to be an [Alchemist]; you were chosen. While some struggle to find their way in life, you have already lived fully, and been God-given the chance to do it again. As a [Chosen Alchemist] you bear Barck¡¯s Blessing and a path paved with power.


    Combine [Otherworlder] and [Stabilize Mixture] into the Blessing [Stable Otherworlder]


    Combine [Bottomless Barrel] and [Ingredient Scan] into the Blessing [Barck¡¯s Box]


    The Milestone [Carbonate] is not affected.


    Stride boldly Chosen, and change the world!


    Increases the chance of developing spark Milestones and the chance to find rare alchemical ingredients.


    <strong>[Stable Otherworlder]</strong>


    Your spirit has found a new spark but denies its influence with the blessing of Barck. Your mental statistics remain reced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain Blessings and Milestones. Any influence your body has had on your mind is reversed, and any future influence is greatly reduced. Grants greater resistance to mental and bodily maniption as well as increased resistance to all elements and damage. Long may you live!


    This ability is always active.


    <strong>[Barck¡¯s Box]</strong>


    An alchemist often needs to forage for their own ingredients, but you are able to make your own. You can touch a container that contains no less than twenty-four grams of non-magical biological matter and grant it a touch of infinity. For the next one minute, anything you remove from the container and use in your alchemy does not reduce the amount of material in the container. If the material is not used in some form of alchemy within the next sixteen minutes, it disappears.


    You can use this ability once per hour.


    Annie scribbled a bit in her notebook and looked up.


    ¡°Nope. I still don¡¯t see any downside. Do you realize how much money that could save us? Some of the ingredients in the bittering agent are pretty expensive. Brewing counts as basic alchemy, so [Barck¡¯s Box] would make it free!¡± Annie became more and more animated as she continued, and her eyes glittered with excitement. ¡°We could experiment with new rare ingredients, or sell usage of the Blessing to other [Alchemists] in the city. This is the kind of Blessing that could impact all of Minnova. Maybe even all of Crack!¡±


    Balin and I drew in our breaths and looked at each other.


    ¡°Annie¡­¡± Balin began.


    ¡°That may not necessarily be a good thing.¡± I finished.


    ¡°What? Why not? Everyone would want it! Oh¡­¡± Her face fell.


    Balin and I nodded. A Blessing that powerful could be a curse. It was the kind of thing that people might kidnap or even kill me for. Imagine if I could replicate some non-magical dungeon material that was restricted. I wouldn¡¯t even me City Hall if they decided to arrest me on the off-chance that I might mass produce it.


    ¡°It''s powerful.¡± Balin said. ¡°If we could make it work, it would be amazin¡¯. Plus, it says you were ¡®chosen¡¯ as an [Alchemist] by Barck, Pete. I don¡¯t know if you realize, not bein¡¯ from here, but that¡¯s a pretty big deal.¡±


    Ugh. There was that ¡®chosen¡¯ again. ¡°Obviously being chosen by a literal God is a big deal, Balin. But¡­ what if I don¡¯t want being ¡®chosen¡¯ to define my life? Annie, you said Specialization would set me on a path. This path practically guarantees a life dedicated in part to Barck.¡± I hesitated for a moment. ¡°I.. I don¡¯t really want to do that.¡± It actually made me very ufortable, especially since he owned my soul. That felt like a pretty vast power differential, and a Specialization that tied me to him even further? Nuh-uh!


    ¡°By Barck¡¯s Beard.¡± Balin chuckled. ¡°A dwarf might think you were worried Barck would eat ya! Having a life dedicated to one of tha Gods is an honour, Pete!¡±


    ¡°Balin¡¯s right, Pete.¡± Anie added. ¡°A Specialization that references the Gods is always very powerful, very prestigious, and highly coveted. At least we can be sure that you¡¯re not cursed by Barck now. Unfortunately.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately? I thought you were worried about that.¡± I said as she reached into her pocket and passed a few gold to Balin. ¡°Wait, were you bettin'' on it!?¡±


    Balin raised his fist in a salute. ¡°I believed in you, brother.¡±


    ¡°You really do have little faith in me!¡± I pointed usingly at Annie. She shrugged in reply.


    ¡°Just hedging my bets.¡±


    I crossed my arms. ¡°At least Barck understands my genius.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s literally his job, Pete.¡± Balin put in.


    ¡°Whatever, the Barck issue isn¡¯t one I expect you two devout souls to understand, and it doesn¡¯t matter anyway. There¡¯s actually a bigger problem. Look at [Stable Otherworlder].¡± I said, reading it carefully once more. Annie and Balin did too.


    ¡°It looks like quests may still be there¡­ I see the line about ¡®easier milestones¡¯.¡± Annie said. ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem. Actually, I think thisst line means the Specializationes with an enhanced lifespan, which is amazing. It looks like an all-around boost to everything.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! Less damage, too!¡± Balin said appreciatively.


    ¡°The problem is the bit that says ¡®Any influence your body has had on your mind is reversed, and any future influence is greatly reduced¡¯¡± I pointed out. ¡°That could be really bad.¡±


    ¡°What does it mean?¡± Balin asked, raising an eyebrow that hadn¡¯t been singed off in weeks.


    ¡°It means¡­ that I wouldn¡¯t be ¡®me¡¯ anymore.¡± I huffed out a breath. Balin and Annie looked at each other in confusion. Then back at me.


    ¡°What?¡± Annie asked.


    So, I exined. It took a while. How to exin all the little things that they took for granted as life-long dwarves? That I suddenly felt beards were attractive. That I dropped the asional ¡®g¡¯ at the end of words and didn¡¯t even notice. That I was just a bit more boisterous and outgoing. That I loved the taste of mushrooms now. That I had a hard-headed streak that was a bit more hard than before. That it was like gettingfortable in a set of new jeans, and it felt¡­ good.


    I wasn¡¯t sure Peter Phillips would have fit into the Thirsty Goat as well as Peter Roughtuff. By the Gods, I wouldn¡¯t have even dreamed of ¡®adopting¡¯ a new family so quickly as a human. Heck, I used ¡®By the Gods¡¯ when I swore now! The mind-whammy from Tim had left me a bit wary of mental maniption in this world, but this didn¡¯t feel like that. This felt more like thest stage of grief.


    eptance.


    And [Stable Outworlder] might take that away.


    Annie wiped away a tear when I was done. ¡°I take back my vote. You should choose [Dimensional Drinker] Pete. It¡¯s not worth the risk.¡±


    We both looked at Balin, who drummed his fingers on his thigh, lost in thought. After several seconds of silence I nodded at Annie.


    ¡°I agree. [Dimensional Drinker] is amazing. It might cost my quests, but it¡¯s my favourite by far, especially since I¡¯d finally get a decent drink around here.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°No offense meant.¡±


    ¡°Lots taken!¡±


    ¡°On the other hand, [Otherworldly Brewer] has no downsides.¡± I finished. ¡°I also like the idea of getting more brewing Milestones. [Refine Brew] may be necessary for my current n to work too, though I could always cheat with [Carbonate] instead; [Dimensional Drinker] does let me keep it.¡± I rubbed my head, then pulled at my beard. ¡°Arggghh! It¡¯s such a hard choice! It¡¯s never this hard in books!¡±


    Balin broke in.


    ¡°¡®May yer brew be you and to yerself be true.¡¯¡±


    We looked at him in consternation and he continued. ¡°It¡¯s what [Otherworldly Brewer] says. I think we¡¯re too focused on tha¡¯ power or money these Specializations could bring us; tasty treats and gold and fancy tricks. Specializations are gifts from tha¡¯ Gods to help us on a path to greatness. Pete, who do you want to be?¡±


    Annie and I stared at Balin and then turned to stare at each other. A pair of smiles slowly spread across our lips.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Bran!¡±


    Bran looked up from where he was arranging his knives in their new cupboard. He¡¯d spent all morning getting them ready while everyone else was in the brewroom seeing the new changes to the machinery. He understood that breweries were a bit insr, but it still would have been nice to be included in it. Ah well, he would have to take baby steps. He was confident that with enough time he¡¯d have them all eating out of the palm of his hands.


    Literally.


    The door from the brewroom banged open as Annie and Balin came running in. The brewery had closed a while ago, and as far as he knew only the two of them and Pete were still present.


    ¡°Aye Annie, what is - ¡° He began.


    ¡°Maaaah!¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I seek more carrots, servant. Fetch them for me at once.¡±


    The three of them and Penelope. He sighed and tossed her one of his carrot muffins. She took it with a greedy ¡°Meeeeeh!¡± and went to a corner to eat. At least he¡¯d managed to teach her to stay out of the kitchen while he was cooking. The constant demands for treats actually reminded him a bit of Opal! That and the tiny goat-tee!


    ¡°Bran, can you make something? Quick?¡± Annie pleaded.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Bran wiped his counter with a cloth. ¡°What do ya want?¡±


    ¡°Just a cake or somethin¡¯¡± Balin said. ¡°It¡¯s fer a good cause.¡±


    ¡°Well, if it¡¯s for a good cause, I¡¯d be happy to.¡± Bran felt nostalgic. It was just like old times; hungry dwarves making ate-night raid on the kitchen for snacks. There was only one thing missing.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Pete?¡±


    ¡°We asked him to run a quick errand.¡± Annie answered.


    ¡°Tha treat¡¯s fer him! It¡¯s cause he -¡±


    Annie mped a hand on Balin¡¯s mouth and gave a strained smile.


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise.¡± Balin¡¯s muffled voice finished.


    ¡°Hrrrmm¡­.¡± Bran bit his upper lip. ¡°Pete, huh? Pete currently owes me. Dunno if I want to make him a cake.¡±


    ¡°Argh, Pete!¡± Annie groaned.


    ¡°Pleaaase, Bran?¡± Balin begged.


    ¡°Of course, he could always make the treat for us.¡± Bran pointed over at Penelope.


    Balin and Annie turned to look. Penelope stood in a dark corner of the room where she was munching down on herte-night snack. A nondescript shadow was crouched behind her.


    ¡°Pete¡­ are you hiding behind Penelope?¡± Annie asked with trepidation.


    ¡°Meeeeh?¡± A rather masculine voice replied.


    ¡°He¡¯s learnin¡¯ goat so¡¯s he can ask Penelope on a date.¡± Balin stated wryly.


    Pete stood up in outrage. ¡°nder!¡±


    Balin grumbled as Pete walked over to join them. ¡°I can¡¯t believe ya found us so quick.¡±


    Pete gave a wide grin, and Annie sighed.


    ¡°That Blessing is going to make him even more insufferable.¡±

 Chapter 69: Fishy Situations

    <h4>Chapter 69: Fishy Situations</h4>


    ¡°Alright Bran, what am I supposed to teach you.¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°You promised to teach me a recipe.¡± Bran pointed at therge steel contraption bolted to the floor in the corner. It was a deep fryer, though one with a small furnace beneath it. I¡¯d been surprised to learn that deep-fryers didn¡¯t exist on Erd, and had designed one with Bran¡¯s help. The final product made some mean fries and was likely to start a revolution in Dwarven cooking. Vive R¨¦v-oil-ution! Whistlemop would take it to market after his little legal problems blew over. I had zero interest on that side of the business, and I was happy to let him handle it. I even upped his percent share.


    ¡°Are you bored of chips and fries already?¡±


    ¡°A little, but I need ta know how to make ¡¯Fish and Chips¡¯. <i>¡®Specially </i>since it¡¯s <i>on the menu</i>.¡± He added thest bit with emphasis, and I flinched.


    ¡°Ugh, those names!¡± Annie moaned. ¡°It¡¯s ¡®Fish and <i>Fries</i>!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over that Annie, you won, give it a rest already!¡± I smacked her on the shoulder and she punched back harder.


    Ow.


    I rubbed my shoulder and turned back to Bran. ¡°Fine, I do owe you that. I guess I¡¯ll make <i>my own</i> congrattory feast. You can all enjoy some fine west coast cooking.¡± I cracked my fingers and strutted into the kitchen.


    ¡°West Coast?¡± Bran said, confused. ¡°And I thought this was supposed to be a surprise. Congrattions fer what?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­.¡±


    Annie, Balin, and I all looked at each other in concern. To tell or not to tell?


    Well, we¡¯d already invited him to the brewery, and he could probably <i>ruin</i> us with a well timed radler.


    ¡°We should tell him.¡± I said firmly.


    ¡°Are ya sure?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°I agree with Pete.¡± Annie said.


    ¡°Tell me <i>what</i>?¡±


    ¡°I got my Specialization. I''m a [Brewer] now.¡±


    Bran¡¯s jaw dropped past his cor-bone. ¡°WHAT!?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Alrighty, Bran.¡± I grabbed a bowl and then opened up the cupboard to grab erdroot flour. Bran watched me with suspicious eyes.


    ¡°How do ya know where everythin¡¯ is in my kitchen? I just moved it all around this morning.¡±


    ¡°Neat trick, isn¡¯t it! It¡¯s my new Blessin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°Still can¡¯t believe ya got that so quick¡­¡± He muttered.


    My new Specialization still felt a bit ufortable; kind of like new shoes. It may have been the unearthly tingle of power that hade with it, but it was more likely the fancy new [Minimap] sitting in my head.


    <strong>[Minimap] </strong>


    <i>Your spirit has found a new spark! Your mental statistics remain reced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain blessings and milestones! You also gain a minimap to help find your way around this new world. People and monsters as well as majorndmarks will be marked on your minimap. You can also mark crafting ingredients or quests and quest items. </i>


    <i>This ability is always avable.</i>


    It was¡­ well, it was a minimap. It popped up just like my quest windows did, and I could erge it or stuff it into the back of my awareness. There were a dozen different filters, but it wasn¡¯t a series of drop down menus or anything like that. Instead, I simply had to focus on the minimap and I¡¯d get a vague idea of what I could ask it to reveal.


    As far as revealing ¡®crafting ingredients¡¯ went, I was limited to ingredients I¡¯d used in alchemy before. That included beer brewing <i>and</i> cooking, which made a pretty massive list of ingredients. Most of them were Earth rted, like ¡®hops¡¯ or ¡®honey¡¯ or ¡®maple syrup¡¯. Thest one was interesting, because I couldn''t search for ¡®pancakes¡¯ or ¡®Canadian bacon¡¯. Crafting ingredients only, and if it had other uses that was just a lucky coincidence. I¡¯d need to spend some time over the next few days ying around with it.


    All in all, it was super neat. Especially in a kitchen, where I could set it to ¡®Fish¡¯ and BAM! there it was. I also grabbed lemons from the cold-storage fridge and filled a tankard with beer.


    ¡°Bran, do you want to whip up the fries while I prep?¡±


    ¡°Aye, I nched ¡®em this morning.¡± Bran ducked into the fridge and returned with a bowl of fries. nching was something that I considered a must for good fries. The process was easy; all Bran needed to do was deep fry the fries half-way and then stick them in the fridge. When he pulled them out during the dinner rush they would fry a lot faster, and get that perfect crispy outside.


    I was making a special fish and chips recipe passed down through generations of my family - nah, it was just a bog standard beer-batter fish and chips recipe.


    <strong>Pete¡¯s Lemon Zest Fish and Chips Ingredients</strong>


    Skinless Cavetrout Filet


    Erdroot nched-Flour


    Salt & Pepper


    Baking Powder


    Radler


    Pickles


    We made the radler in secret. No need to start a panic.


    In a shallow dish I mixed the flour, salt and pepper, and the baking powder - or ¡®floof¡¯ powder, as Caroline used to call it. When it was well blended I slowly poured in the radler. It bubbled happily as the lemon reacted with the powder. I hoped the awful beer wouldn¡¯t ruin the taste TOO much.


    ¡°Why tha beer?¡± Bran interrupted, his eyes drinking in my every move.


    ¡°Cold beer makes the batter go crispy in the fryer, and the carbonation will cause it to puff out. There¡¯s more reasons, but I don¡¯t remember them.¡±


    When the batter had a smooth-but-not-runny consistency I set it aside and grabbed a piece of fish. The trout needed to be dry, so I picked up a small clean dishcloth and patted it. We did <i>not </i>want to use the same dirty towel over the course of a dinner rush, so Bran would need a steady supply of clean towels beside the fish table.


    ¡°Annie! Can you add a note to buy a towel station for the kitchen?¡± I called.


    ¡°Ergh. More gold! My wallet weeps!¡± Sheined, but wrote it down anyway.


    Bran finally popped the fries out of the fryer and set them on a te. They were thin cut and golden brown - perfect specimens of the ideal french fry. A light dusting of salt and they were ready for ting.


    I carefully dipped four fish sticks into the batter and made sure they were thoroughly coated in goop. Then I ced them in the frying basket and gently lowered it into the deep-fryer. The oil roiled excitedly and I shook the basket a few times to make sure the fish didn¡¯t stick to the bottom.


    Four minutester I pulled out stunningly-golden beer-battered trout. Iid it on a te alongside some fries and garnished it with pickles. No tartar sauce this time, unfortunately.


    Soon all four of us were beard-deep in delicious fish. The moist center of each piece had a lemony aftertaste that spread from the crunchy batter of the exterior. The fries were <i>perfect</i>, and I added a dash of rock salt to mine; I missed ketchup, and didn¡¯t know how to make it. The beer only made everything a <i>tad</i> sour, which isn¡¯t that bad for fish and chips.


    ¡°It¡¯s great, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Delicious.¡±


    ¡°Yumm!¡±


    ¡°MmmmmmmMm¡±


    *Meeeeeh!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°What a delicious smell. Thank you for the meal!¡±


    ¡°Argh, no Penelope! That¡¯s mine!¡±


    *MEEEEHHHH!!!!*


    I sat contentedly back in my chair as Balin wrestled Penelope for hisst piece of fish. The dish was a huge sess, and my new Specialization was even more so. With [Minimap] I <i>never </i>needed to worry about being caught off-guard again.


    ___


    In a dark space there stood a white stone gazebo and mist rose from several incense bowls surrounding it. A ck mountain rose up in the darkness, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    Master Brewer Browning sat before the assembly, his face slightly swollen. He held a pack of ice to one eye. ¡°My fellow Master Brewers! I have called this emergency meeting to deal with dire news.¡±


    One cloaked figure put up a hand, interrupting him. He sighed melodramatically. ¡°Yes, what is it?¡±


    ¡°What happened to your - ¡°


    ¡°MY FACE IS FINE! No more questions! I¡¯ve called you because of -¡±


    ¡°He got his stuffing knocked out trying to get at one of the ¡®Limited Edition¡¯ Whistlemugs.¡± The quavery voice of Master Brewer Malt put in.


    ¡°HAR!¡±


    ¡°SHUT IT, DRUM!¡± Browning crowed.


    ¡°MAKE ME, ya idjit! What were ya even doin¡¯ there? You could have made an apprentice do it!¡±


    ¡°I wanted to experience it¡­¡± Browning grumbled. ¡°Imagine my horror to learn it was a celebration of that thrice damned drinking contest! I smashed it as soon as I received it. How was I to know that would set the crowd off!¡±


    ¡°I think it was you calling the crowd a ¡®degenerate rabble¡¯-¡± Malt added, ¡°then usin¡¯ yer Blessin¡¯ to pop half of Whistlemop¡¯s stock.¡±


    There was a general gasp.


    ¡°Preposterous!¡±


    ¡°Uncalled for!¡±


    ¡°Shameful behaviour that I¡¯d expect from a human!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better pay for those!¡±


    ¡°QUUIIETT!!¡± Browning roared. ¡°I didn¡¯t call this meeting to bembasted for an error made in anger. I¡¯ll pay Whistlemop for the damages - if he ever shows his face again.¡± He smirked.


    ¡°Would ya hurry it up then Browning?¡± The voice of Jeremiah Goldstone rang out in the sudden silence. All the eyes in the room snapped to him. He looked tired, and bored. He hadn¡¯t been at many of the meetings recently.


    ¡°Well Jeremiah, I¡¯m happy you asked.¡± Browning said sweetly, holding up a sheet of paper andying it down on the table. Malt reached a hand out to look at it and pass it around. There was a brief bark ofughter when it reached Drum, but Jeremiah barely nced at it. A smiling image of Pete was depicted with a catchy slogan.


    ¡°What is this?¡± A feminine voice asked.


    ¡°Where did you get it from?¡± A deep voice added. ¡°Was it up on the Goat? I don¡¯t see a problem with it. A bit gaudy, but young folk are like that.¡±


    ¡°It was up at Whistlemop¡¯s,¡± Browning said, then his voice rose as he continued, ¡°because apparently he has joined hands with one Peter Roughtuff from Thirsty Goat Brewing. The <i>same</i> Peter Roughtuff that I have recently learned was responsible for the RADLER abomination we¡¯ve been suppressing!¡± He mmed an axe into the poster, pinning it to the table.


    There was a series of gasps and ¡®oh my¡¯s. One dwarf fainted dead away. Jeremiah merely twitched.


    ¡°Were you aware, Jeremiah, of what kind of dwarf you hired?¡± Browning hissed.


    Jeremiah shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s a goodd. A hard worker and loves brewin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°But does he love The Brew?¡± Browning and Jeremiah shared a cold stare. After a few embarrassed coughs from the crowd, Browning sat back in his chair.


    ¡°Did you really call an emergency meeting over a damnable poster, Browning?¡± Drum asked.


    ¡°No. I called an emergency meeting because I¡¯ve been hearing troubling rumors from the Thirsty Goat. I understand that Jeremiah Goldstone has handed over the next batch to Annie Goldstone, and severalrge shipping boxes were recently moved into the brewery. I suspect she is attempting to change the brewing process again, and you all remember how that went <ist </i>time.¡±


    Jeremiah leaned forward, and his fingers grew white as he clenched his fists on the table. ¡°Are you spyin¡¯ on my family, Browning?¡±


    Browning spat. ¡°I¡¯m looking out for themunity by keeping an eye on a known dangerous variable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a no¡­¡± Jeremiah cracked his neck and red daggers.


    ¡°Ah, stop with the melodramatics you two.¡± Malt interrupted. ¡°I want to get to my nap. Get on with it Browning, what do you want to do about it?¡±


    ¡°These youngsters need to learn not to y around with millennia of tradition. The Brew is sacred, you <i>all </i>know that. Or <i>used</i> to know it.¡± He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket andid it down on the table. ¡°I hold you, Jeremiah Goldstone, to your oath. You will ensure that this bastard batch ends in failure. The magic in this vial of unrefined lily-leopard liver oil will ensure the fermentation process fails. You are to continue using it until your foolhardy daughter returns to <i>proper</i> brewing practices!¡±


    ¡°Browning, I¡¯m not sure -¡± Drum said haltingly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll not budge on this!¡± Browning roared, dropping the ice pack and revealing a massive ck eye and torn lip. ¡°You all swore on your ancestors and the Gods to uphold your oaths! Will you disgrace your ancestors and stand forsworn before the Gods, Jeremiah!?¡±


    Jeremiah red back with hate-filled eyes, his voice dripping with venom. ¡°You would have me taint the Brew?¡±


    ¡°Their brew is already tainted. We are simply ensuring that only pure brews seed.¡±


    There was a dull silence in the room as every eye stared at the inky bottle.


    ¡°If you need more, I have another sk.¡± Browning said, a smug and callous look on his face. ¡° The will of the ancestors.¡±


    The refrain was repeated uncertainly by all assembled.


    ¡°THE WILL OF THE ANCESTORS.¡±


    The assembly filed out of the room in silence until the only dwarf left in the room was a hunched Jeremiah Goldstone.

 Chapter 70: The Grand Opening

    <h4>Chapter 70: The Grand Opening</h4>


    ¡°Steady.¡± I muttered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do this, Pete!¡±


    ¡°Steady, Aqua!¡±


    ¡°Bran, are you ready?¡±


    ¡°Aye, Annie!¡±


    ¡°Steaaadddyyy!¡±


    ¡°Annie, I don¡¯t <i>want</i> to be a waitress!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just until we can hire someone, Aqua!¡±


    ¡°STEAAADDYY!¡±


    ¡°Alright, open the door!¡± Annie shouted.


    The doors swung open, and the storm descended.


    ¡°Wee to the official grand opening of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub! Come on in!¡± I said with a beaming smile.


    The massive crowd bustled up to a stand that said ¡®please wait here to be seated¡¯ and Aqua and I were soon busy taking dwarves to their tables. That, and dodging a barrage of questions.


    ¡°Do you know Whistlemop!?¡±


    ¡°Will there be limited edition Whistlemugs for sale here?¡±


    ¡°Congrattions on cing in the top ten!¡±


    ¡°Is Rumbob here?¡±


    ¡°What did it feel like when ya fed Raspi yer butter?


    I deftly dodged and redirected most conversations towards how delicious our food was.


    ¡°Why yes, I do know him. He finds our food delicious.¡±


    ¡°No special editions here, you¡¯ll need to wait for next time. Try some nuts while you wait!¡±


    ¡°Thank you!¡±


    ¡°Rumbob is right over there! Eating our yummy food.¡±


    ¡°Noment on my butter.¡±


    The room was soon full of bustling chatty dwarves. Every once in a while, a booming *ho ho ho* came from a corner where Tania and Rumbob, second and first ce respectively, were set up. They had a private booth to write autographs on people¡¯s Whistlemugs, and provide that celebrity ¡®je ne sais quoi¡¯.


    We were worried about repercussions from our rtionship with the pro-drinking crowd, but it looked like we were free and clear. That, or Balin acting as a bouncer at the front door in his golden armour was keeping any troublemakers away.


    All in all, the grand opening was going swimmingly.


    The final menu that I designed with Bran was the epitome of pub fare.


    <strong>THIRSTY GOAT MENU</strong>


    <strong>Snacks</strong>


    <strong><i>Pretzel </i></strong><i>- A length of dough twisted into an iconic shape and lightly dusted with salt crystals.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>Doughy, crusty, fresh baked goodness. Comes with house mustard.</i>


    <strong><i>Crisps</i></strong><i></i><i>- Round, thinly sliced erdroot, deep fried in oil and seasoned with our secret spices. </i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>Crispy, crunchy delights that go great with beer. </i>


    <strong><i>Truffle-Fries</i></strong><i> - Thick strips of erdroot deep fried in oil and dusted with salt and truffles.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>Greasy goodness. Comes with house tomato sauce. Added cheese is extra.</i>


    <strong><i>Honey Roasted Nuts</i></strong><i> - Greentree nuts roasted with honey and hot pepper.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>A sweet and spicy spin on a Minnova ssic.</i>


    <strong><i>Stuffed Mushrooms</i></strong><i> - Minnova mushrooms roasted and filled with melted goat cheese.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>A deliciously gooey new take on your favourite fungus.</i>


    <strong>Food</strong>


    <strong><i>Beer Battered Fish and Fries</i></strong><i> - Cave-trout fried in our special beer batter with a te of fries. </i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>A crispy twist on a ky favourite. Comes with vinegar for the fries. </i>


    <strong><i>Beer Braised Roast Goat</i></strong><i> - 32-hour Beer Braised Goat with a creamy mushroom sauce.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>A savory feast for the refined pte. Comes with roasted veggies and whipped Erdroot.</i>


    <strong><i>Goatherd Pie</i></strong><i> - Steamed goat and vegetables with a bakedyer of whipped Erdroot.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>Moist and nutritious, filling and delicious. Comes with a helping of butter. </i>


    <strong><i>Goat-crisps and Cheese</i></strong><i> - A heap of chips baked with goat, mushrooms, and melted cheese.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>A crowd pleaser that¡¯s crispy, cheesy, and meaty. Comes with a side of diced tomatoes.</i>


    <strong><i>Chicken-things</i></strong><i> - A tub of honeyed chicken legs breaded and baked. Pick lemon or garlic.</i><i></i>


    <i></i><i>Fall off the bone goodness with a sweet taste. Comes with a side of cream sauce. </i>


    <strong>BEER</strong>


    <strong><i>True Brew</i></strong><i> - A dwarven tradition made on site. Beer never tastes better than when it¡¯s fresh.</i>


    I grumbled a bit as I read over the menu. Annie had forced me to change a lot of the names, dering the earth names to be ¡®daft nonsense¡¯. Namely¡­


    ¡®Why chips if they aren¡¯t chippy? If they¡¯re supposed to be crispy, call them crisps!¡¯


    ¡®I like fries. Simple and to the point; how refreshing.¡¯


    ¡®Pretzel is an odd, twisty name for an odd, twisty snack. Fine, you can keep it.¡¯


    ¡®Why are the chips in ¡®Fish and Chips¡¯ actually fries? Chips should be crisps and fries should be fries!¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve never heard of a nacho, and I swear to the Gods if you sing that you''re ¡®notch-my man¡¯ one more time I will ask Balin to <i>murder </i>you.¡¯


    ¡®I figured out why Earth had so many alcohols! It¡¯s because they needed to be constantly drunk in order to endure their existence. There is no other exnation for this idiocy. Yearn¡¯s Yams, give me patience, while you exin to me <i>again </i>why the chicken <i>wings</i> look like chicken <i>legs</i>.¡¯


    And so on and so forth.


    Annie and I also discussed adding radler to the menu. I¡­ thought about Tim and advised dropping the subject. Baby steps, baby steps.


    ¡ª


    After the initial rush, I moved into the kitchen with Bran while Annie went to help Johnsson do the dishes. Bran was pure poetry in motion, dashing between stove and fryer and oven. He sliced erdroot with wild abandon and was a master at that fast-chop thing.


    He put me on deep-fryer duty since that was pretty hard to get wrong. Heck, I¡¯d taught him how to do it! He went absolutely wild over the deep fryer when I showed him how it worked. I was surprised to learn deep-frying was new to Minnova, and I was pretty sure truffle-fries and chips were going to take the salt and mushroom loving dwarves by <i>storm</i>.


    At one point Bran and I both turned at the same time and bumped into each other. Two dishes flew into the air, and we somehow grabbed them before they fell to the floor; the foodpletely intact. We nervouslyughed and thanked Bran¡¯s [Artisan Luck] before moving on.


    Things progressed quite well as the evening wore on. The pretzels were a massive hit, and people seemed to prefer the chi - *sigh* - <i>crisps </i>to the fries. That was fine, since we made the crisps ahead of time and ting them was a lot easier. We might eventually set a te of them for free at every table; some finger food to get people talking and thirsty for more beer.


    Annie had banned me from using the word finger-food.


    I was humming MJ¡¯s ¡®Beat It¡¯ while I chopped carrots when I saw a familiar face walk through the door with two hooded figures behind him.


    Prophet Barnes¡­ we meet again. I moved to intercept Aqua before she brought their menus. My chief weapon would be surprise!


    ¡ª


    ¡°This ce is certainly interesting.¡± The cloaked dwarf removed his hood to look around the bustling brewpub. His long white beard was practically a mane, as it met with his head in a near perfect circle of long, straight white hair. His moustache-less face was etched with time and stress. He had a bearing that spoke of one used tomand, as he loomed over the other dwarves in the room in both height and presence. ¡°The decor is rather unique.¡±


    ¡°It certainly is, Joshua.¡± Prophet Barnes said with a wide grin. ¡°But that isn¡¯t what¡¯s special about it.¡±


    *Ge-he-he!* The maned dwarf guffawed. ¡°Leave it to my brother to present me with a fascinating little puzzle the day before we leave! Is it the menu that makes this ce special? I gave it a read out front, and I really want to try that truffle-fries thing! There was another one on there that caught my attention too. Chicken-wings?¡±


    ¡°Chicken-things.¡± Barnes said. ¡°And that¡¯s still not the right reason.¡±


    ¡°Was it that gaudily armoured bouncer?¡±


    ¡°Terrible guesses, as usual. You¡¯ll see soon enough. Can you guess, my dear?¡±


    The cloaked figure looked around the pub. ¡°I may, but I¡¯d rather not. Did you really need to choose this ce, uncle?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes. I heard about it when I was grabbing your Whistlemug, dear brother.¡±


    ¡°That Whistlemug is a <i>fabulous </i>bit of workmanship! Just the kind of innovation that helps our proud country thrive! I¡¯m going to see about passing it on to¡­ <i>you know</i>.¡± He gave a not-so-subtle wink.


    ¡°Well, how fortuitous for Whistlemop.¡± Barnes drawled.


    ¡°Yes, I suspect-¡± Joshua broke off. ¡°What <i>are</i> you looking for, Mal?¡±


    ¡°Just¡­ a friend.¡± The cloaked figure said nervously.


    ¡°Oh really?¡± Joshua leaned forward on the table. ¡°And who might this friend be? Someone I know? We may be here incognito, but I could always throw some weight around and demand to speak with the owner.¡±


    ¡°No! Don¡¯t you dare, grandfather! Besides, I don¡¯t see them.¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine. Can you give me a hint, brother?¡±


    ¡°Not even a little one. You¡¯ll need to figure it out on your own.¡±


    ¡°Bah. Well, herees the waiter. You there! Menus!¡±


    ¡ª


    I made my way stealthily towards the table, but the massive dwarf with a pretty impressive coiffure managed to spot me.


    ¡°You there! Menus!¡±


    I straightened up and approached the table. It wasn¡¯t like I nned to <i>actually </i>bonk the [Prophet] or anything, but a stealthy ¡®Can I help You¡¯ that made everyone jump would have been nice payback.


    ¡°Hello, and wee to the Thirsty Goat Brewpub! I¡¯m Pete and I¡¯ll be your waiter for today.¡±


    I handed out some menus and looked around the table. There was Prophet Barnes, the regal looking guy, and one cloaked figure who hadn¡¯t gotten the message that indoor hoods were sost millenia.


    ¡°My goodness!¡± I continued, sweetly. ¡°Is that you, Prophet Barnes? I didn¡¯t recognize you without your robes of office!¡±


    Barnes chuckled. ¡°I have a forgettable face.¡±


    ¡°I do have to apologize, thest time we met I simply <i>dropped</i><i>off the face of Erd</i> before we got a chance to really say goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Oh, not a problem. No need to make a <i>mountain</i> out of a molehill.¡±


    ¡°Oh but I must insist! Let me cover your meal tonight. It would be the <i>pinnacle</i> of rudeness if I didn¡¯t <i>pay you back</i> somehow.¡±


    ¡°No need, no need.¡± Barnes waved a quavering hand. ¡°Though the braised goat looks interesting, and I can¡¯t wait to <i>just try it.</i>¡±


    We both smiled, with our teeth. The dwarf beside him looked back and forth between the two of us in confusion.


    ¡°Barnes, do you know thisd?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, Joshua. We had a <i>fascinating </i>encounter just the other day. I can¡¯t help but think we¡¯ll keep running into each other. It must be fate,ing to his restaurant.¡±


    I paused at that. I had a recent interest in the concept of fate, and Barnes was likely a wellspring of information. I wanted to keep a low profile, but Barnes <i>had</i> to have an inkling of my status. I didn¡¯t want him to know I was a ¡®Chosen¡¯ or anything like that, but I was obviously involved with the Gods. I might be able to turn this encounter my way if I yed my cards right. Besides, I wasn¡¯t going to hold an actual <i>grudge</i> over a good prank.


    I pitched my voice a little more cordial. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m quite happy we bumped into each other, [Prophet]. I was in need of some spiritual guidance, and you may be able to help me.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± With the ease of long habit, Barnes switched gears into an officious persona. ¡°I¡¯d be pleased to offer you my aid in the ways of the Gods, my child. If your spirit requires guidance you need but ask.¡± He put up that wonky hand sign, and I did my best to copy him.


    The cloaked figure coughed, or choked, and I re-focused my attention.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to leave the pleasantries forter. Would you like a drink while you read the menu?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Bring me three tankards!¡± The dwarf named Joshua pounded his fist on the table, which bounced; his strength must be massive! Up close he was nearly as big as Jeremiah!


    ¡°I¡¯ll just have one.¡± Barnes said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have one too.¡± The cloaked figure said with a slightly muffled voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back to take your orders.¡± I went to fetch their drinks.


    ¡ª


    I returned to find them in a heated debate.


    ¡°It¡¯s the kitchen!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Grr¡­ the location!¡±


    ¡°Wrong again.¡±


    I walked up with the drinks. ¡°Here are your -¡±


    Joshua pointed vehemently at me. ¡°It¡¯s him!¡±


    Barnes chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you brother, so stop trying to get the answer out of me. Now stop that, it¡¯s rude to point. ¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the only dwarf that dares to correct me.¡± Joshua growled.


    ¡°Excepting her Grace.¡±


    Joshua coughed. ¡°Well, of course.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow, wondering what they were on about. ¡°Here are your drinks?¡±


    There was a series of gruff ¡®thank you¡¯s as I passed the drinks around the table.


    ¡°So¡­ Prophet Barnes, are you going to introduce yourpanions?¡± I asked.


    The big guy nodded at me. ¡°I¡¯m Du- *cough* Joshua, Barne¡¯s brother. It¡¯s nice to meet you, Pete. The oddly nervous one over there is my granddaughter, Tourmaline. Honestly, Mal, why are you still wearing that silly cloak!?¡±


    My eyes swiveled over like turrets as the cloaked figure lowered her hood. A river of white-gold ringlets spilled out and I met a pair of umber eyes. She had soft features and a pair of sweeping silver eyebrows. Her voice was gruff, and oddly familiar as she spoke.


    ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Tourmaline. Nice to meet you, Peter.¡±

 Chapter 71: Tourmaline

    <h4>Chapter 71: Tourmaline</h4>


    I kept bouncing back to have quick chats with Barnes¡¯s table until his brother Joshua invited me to join them. Since the main rush was done, and I was a bit peckish anyway, I obliged.


    Joshua and Tourmaline were originally from the Capital, Kinshasa. Joshua was cagey about his profession, and only willing to say that he was a very sessful businessman. Apparently he was incognito in Minnova on business, and he asked me to keep quiet about it. I had no problem agreeing to that, though I made a mental note to check the wanted papers at the Adventurer''s Guildter.


    Tourmaline was a [Toxicologist], which was a Specialization of the [Researcher] Title; abination of Barck and Archis¡¯ Blessings. She was the first I¡¯d met, and I wasn¡¯t going to lose a chance to pick her brain. Especially since I was pretty sure she was the one Barck had mentioned in our meeting. Our heads bent together as we made notes and diagrams in my notebook. It reminded me of talking to Annie, and I suspected the two of them would get along <i>great</i>.


    I stopped her in the middle of a dissertation on the difference between a [Toxicologist] and a [Poisoner]. ¡°Why is [Toxicologist] based on [Researcher]? I would have guessed it to be a Specialization of [Alchemist].¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not well known, but the same Specialization cane from different Titles. In my case, I studied magic and alchemy and how it rtes to the dwarven body. That gave me the [Researcher] Title. I then focused on potions, toxins, and poisons, and also how to improve them.¡±


    ¡°Mal is a quick study, and has a knack for obtaining Milestones.¡± Joshua said around a mouth full of fish.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk with your mouth full, brother.¡± Barnes *tutted*.


    ¡°Yes, <i>mother</i>.¡±


    Tourmaline looked up at the pair of them. ¡°Rude.¡±


    I had an odd feeling of deja-vu from the byy, but ignored it. Easy Milestones marked Tourmaline as a possible Chosen, though that seemed unlikely. ¡°What got you so interested in potions and poisons?¡±


    ¡°My mother.¡± Tourmaline replied, then took a bite out of her braised goat.


    I waited a moment to see if she would exin further. To broach or not to broach? Curiosity won out. ¡°Your¡­ mother?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my mother was poisoned when I was younger. She still suffers some residual effects. I studied magic and alchemy on the off-chance that I could learn something to help her. I have been able to replicate the toxin in question, but have not been able to reverse its effects. It has a non-standard attack vector and I have been unable to iste its exact path through the body.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡± Quick Pete, change the subject! ¡°Your research sounds interesting. Do you get funding from any Universities?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Our conversations were a fairly solid mix of this. She could talk forever about alchemy or chemistry, but seemed reluctant to discuss anything else. I didn¡¯t know if it was me, or what, but whenever I got close to any personal questions she seemed to deftly sidestep.


    I tried a slightly different tack.


    ¡°How long have you been in Minnova?¡±


    ¡°A while.¡±


    ¡°Are you doing any interesting research here?¡±


    ¡°Just digging around.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Are you looking for specific alchemical ingredients?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I need a few ingredients for my next potion that are best found in Greentree. There are some equivalents in Kinshasa but they will have a lower efficacy.¡±


    I thought about it for a moment. Helping her could get me in with Prophet Barnes, and she might be able to help me<i></i>with alchemy. I even had a useful new tool for it. ¡°Do you need help looking? I might be able to give you a hand.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving tonight.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s unfortunate.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for offering.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Any time!¡±


    ¡°This beer is quite good!¡± Joshua interrupted. ¡°Some of the best I¡¯ve had! It¡¯s smoOOooth!¡± He swayed a bit.


    Tourmaline frowned. ¡°You¡¯re such a lightweight grandfather. A dwarf should be made of stronger stuff.¡±


    There it was again. A strange feeling of deja-vu. Barck said he ced Tourmaline ¡®near¡¯ me, but I¡¯d never seen her in my life. Orst life. Yet, she felt familiar, and I couldn¡¯t ce exactly where or how. I tried the direct approach.


    ¡°Have we met before? Tourmaline?¡±


    Barnes choked on his beer and we looked at him with concern until he stopped choking. He waved at us to continue and took a bite out of his goatherd pie.


    ¡°It¡¯s always possible. Minnova isn¡¯t that big of a city.¡± She replied.


    Huh¡­.she was using a lot of weasel words. It took a weasel to recognize a weasel, and she sounded <i>exactly </i>like I did when I sidestepped Midna¡¯s [Truespeech]. Oh well, it wasn¡¯t like I was here to interrogate her. I was a guest at their table, so I dropped it and moved on to a more agreeable subject matter.


    ¡°Do you know much about alcohol?¡± Ah, the old standby.


    She gave me her full attention. ¡°I do. I assume that you do as well?¡±


    ¡°I do! I¡¯m a brewer myself. We¡¯re actually right in the middle of making some changes to our brewing method.¡±


    Joshua and Barnes looked up with interest, and Joshua piped up.


    ¡°Is that why this beer tastes so good?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°To a degree. Our first few changes involved improving sanitation in the brewery, and the resulting beer came out with a consistent taste and very little contamination.¡±


    Tourmaline frowned. ¡°Sanitisation is a vital step in any alchemical process.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t discuss it, but not all brewrooms would necessarily agree with you.¡± I frowned with displeasure.


    Tourmaline nodded. ¡°While brewing is counted among the alchemical professions, very few brewers have any actual training in alchemy. All their methods and techniques are traditional and, as far as I know, have not been updated in millenia.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s about right.¡± I concurred.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame. Brewing is amongst the many pirs in our society that could do with a bit of a shake-up.¡±


    Barnes moaned. ¡°Not <i>this</i> again.¡±


    ¡°Mal, I would have hoped that yourrr¡­ recent misadventure might have taught you something.¡± Joshua said haltingly.


    ¡°Bah! You said so yourself, grandfather, this beer is the smoothest you¡¯ve ever tasted.¡±


    He sighed and took another swig. ¡°There is that.¡±


    Iughed. ¡°Hah! You¡¯d fit right in around here, that¡¯s for sure! It¡¯s like talking to an old friend!¡±


    She actually <i>blushed</i> and muttered something under her breath.


    A quick nce around told me that the pub was starting to get busy again. That and Aqua was making stabby motions in my direction. With a knife. One of <i>Bran¡¯s </i>knives! He was going to <i>kill</i> her.


    ¡°If you¡¯re interested in seeing how things turn out, keep an eye on our next few batches. We¡¯re going to have something really special for the citizens of Minnova. Now I really need to get going, but I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.¡± I stood up to go.


    ¡°It¡¯s absolutely delicious, the crunch on this fish is <i>incredible! </i>You need to give me the recipe!<i>¡± </i>Joshua replied.


    ¡°It¡¯s a secret recipe for now, but keep an eye on Whistlemop¡¯s Wonders! Oh, before I go, can I set up a meeting with you forter Prophet Barnes? I really need your advice.¡±


    ¡°Hrm. Set up an appointment through the Cathedral like everyone else. Unless you have something that would make you special?¡± He leered.


    ¡°Just my good looks and winning personality?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ not that good, and I¡¯d say a runner-up at best. Talk to the acolytes.¡±


    ¡°Oof. It was a pleasure to meet you Tourmaline, I hope to see you again! Joshua, Prophet Barnes.¡± I tipped an imaginary hat and ran off to get scolded.


    ¡ª


    ¡°He''s a niced.¡± Joshua remarked as they watched Pete run off.


    ¡°Aye, that he is.¡± Barnes remarked, taking a swig from his ss.


    ¡°You seemed to know him...¡± Joshua¡¯s eyes narrowed, then widened. *Ge-he-he!* ¡°<i>He</i> was what¡¯s so interesting about this ce! You side-tracked me!¡±


    ¡°Ugh. NO! Uncle Barnes brought us here because nearly all the staff are from the Minnova Reform Mine.¡± Tourmaline rolled her eyes. ¡°There, are you happy?¡±


    Joshua started. ¡°You mean the - ¡±


    ¡°Yes! Now stop embarrassing me and eat your food!¡±


    Joshua ignored her and focused on where Pete was being harangued by a blue-haired dwarfess and her golden-lockedpanion. ¡°How interesting. Are they friends of yours?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ maybe¡­ I felt so.¡± Tourmaline mumbled, her eyes never leaving the trio in the corner.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Joshua regarded his granddaughter as she fidgeted in her chair. She was always so sure of herself, and it was surprising to see her so affected. On one hand, she needed some real friends, not just servants or hangers on. On the other hand, they would soon be returning to Kinshasa, and it was likely that the dwarfess known as ¡®Wreck¡¯ would never return to Minnova again. He looked down at the amber dregs in his mug and had a thought. He leaned over and whispered into Barnse¡¯s ear.


    ¡°You know, brother¡­ Mal may be right.¡±


    ¡°Hrmmm?¡± Barnes said around a mouthful of whipped erdroot and goat. ¡°This goatherd pie is amazin¡¯. I¡¯min¡¯ here to eat whenever I can.¡±


    ¡°Never mind that. Listen! Perhaps we <i>do</i> need to shake things up a bit. Now is a good time since the King¡¯s drinking contest has the High Council up in arms. How about something that would appease them, but only on the surface?¡±


    *Gulp* ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll petition His Majesty to open a brewing contest alongside the drinkingpetition . We¡¯ll invite the greatest brewers in all of Crack toe to Kinshasa and present their brews to the King! But - we¡¯ll open it to ¡®any brewer¡¯ instead of just the guilds!¡±


    ¡°Interesting. I like it!¡± Barnes grinned wolfishly.


    Joshua leaned back in his chair and nodded to himself. Yes, that would do the trick. It would take some time, but he was certain that His Majesty would listen. He¡¯d be able to grease the wheels a bit as Duke, but the rest would be up to these hopeful young dwarves. Perhaps Tourmaline would get to see her friends sooner than she could have hoped.


    ¡ª


    It was only a short while until I was back to working in the kitchen. Bran was taking a quick breather out back, and I was busy stirring mashed potatoes and chopping vegetables. Aqua stood beside me and kept watch on the deep fryer. It was boiling hot in the kitchen, and I decided that the next big purchase was going to be some kind of air conditioning. If it didn¡¯t exist, I would design a magical one with Richter and then retire as a gazillionaire.


    ¡°Oh, is Bran not here?¡±


    We looked over to the entrance of the kitchen in astonishment. Nobody else was supposed to be in here.


    ¡°Excuse me - ¡° Aqua began, but I interrupted her.


    ¡°Doc Opal!¡± I shouted with joy.


    ¡°Pete?¡± She replied.


    ¡°Opal?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°Opal!¡± Annie cried as she ran over.


    ¡°Annie!¡± Opal reached out to give her an embrace.


    ¡°Opal?!¡± Bran shouted as he ran in, led by Balin.


    ¡°Bran!¡± She cried, her face lighting up.


    ¡°Doc Opal!¡± Balin¡¯s muffled voice was barely audible through his golden helmet.


    ¡°Balin!?¡± Opal said in astonishment.


    ¡°Meeeeeh!!!!¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Hello!¡±


    ¡°PENELOPE!!!¡± We all shouted.


    ¡°Owff!¡± Said Opal.


    ¡ª


    ¡°It is a <i>beautiful</i> dress.¡± Bran said, as he handed a handkerchief to Doc Opal.


    "It <i>was </i>a beautiful dress." Balin muttered. Annie stomped on his foot.


    Opal was dressed in a stunning rhinestone dress that entuated her curves. Or maybe those were real diamonds, who could tell?


    Dwarves. Dwarves could probably tell.


    ¡°Honestly, the tomato sauce shoulde right out with a little lemon juice.¡± I put in, trying to be helpful. Aqua removed a protesting Penelope to her pen, and Balin followed with his tool kit. It looked like someone was going to be in time out.


    Opal barked augh. ¡°Same old Pete! Still on about his lemon juice.¡± She took the handkerchief and daubed at her dress, which was coated in red goop. She had fallen onto a bowl of tomato sauce after Penelope¡¯s boisterous ¡®Hello¡¯. ¡°Ugh, maybe I will try that lemon trick.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sooooo sorry, Opal.¡± Annie rubbed her hands grievously.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite alright, Annie. I¡¯m just d I was able to be here on Bran¡¯s special - I mean, <i>your</i> special day.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Annie blushed at the older dwarf¡¯s praise.


    *Cough* We were interrupted by another presence at the door to the kitchen. Joshua stood there alongside Tourmaline, looking in. Barnes was nowhere to be seen. ¡°It seems you¡¯re busy?¡±


    ¡°Joshua! Just a moment!¡± I called.


    ¡°Your Gr-!¡± Opal started in a shocked voice, then bit her tongue. She turned around and began wildly daubing at her dress with the handkerchief. Bran and Annie watched her with concern while I ran up to Joshua.


    ¡°Thank you foring, I hope you enjoyed your food!¡±


    ¡°It was delicious! We just wanted to say goodbye.¡± Joshua patted Tourmaline on the shoulder. She fidgeted a bit and then leaned through the doorway to address everyone.


    ¡°Goodbye.¡±


    We stared back in confusion, except for Opal, who stared at her dress.


    Annie waved first. ¡°Uh, bye? Thanks foring to our grand opening?¡±


    ¡°Aye, d you liked it!¡± Bran echoed.


    ¡°You¡¯re wee any time!¡± I gave a fist pump.


    Tourmaline swiftly turned around. ¡°I¡¯m leaving, grandfather. I¡¯ll meet you outside.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯lle with you. Thank you again, Pete. I look forward to trying your next batch.¡±


    ¡°Thanks! So long! I hope we meet again!¡±


    ¡°I look forward to it.¡±

 Chapter 72: The New Brew

    <h4>Chapter 72: The New Brew</h4>


    ¡°Alright everyone, listen up!¡±


    Annie waved to catch our attention. Just likest time, the entire brewery was in attendance; Aqua and her dad, Richter, John, Johnsson, and Balin. The only difference was that this time Jeremiah was standing to the side, his face dour. I guess he was feeling a bit mncholic watching the next generation preparing to take over. That, or he had indigestion; he¡¯d been out drinking with his guard buddies all night.


    Speaking ofst night, Bran was out at the Grand Market with Opal purchasing new supplies after our <i>immensely</i> sessful opening night! We didn¡¯t have the staff to stay full-day hours, so the pub wouldn¡¯t re-open until mid-evening.


    Balin and I had actually gotten a decent restst night. We¡¯d gone to bed full of fish and chips, and dreamt odd dreams. At least I did. There¡¯d been a gorgeous dwarf woman with a curly blonde beard and a horned helmet. She¡¯d spent the evening singing ¡°Call Me Maybe¡±, and I was still on the fence whether it had been a sweet dream or a nightmare.


    I flicked the filter on [Minimap] to ¡®animals¡¯ while Annieunched into a speech about the importance of working hard. Penelope was¡­ in the kitchen, rooting through the cold storage. Either Bran left the door open, or she learned how to turn the handle. I was going with the second; we¡¯d need to find a way to keep her out. That, or she''d keep helping herself to the veggies and I¡¯d start a betting pool on how soon Bran would figure it out. I gave him a week, tops. There were some very small dots scurrying around outside which I figured had to be rats. With all our new food we were going to need some traps set up soon.


    I nned to run through the Grand Market searching for hops with [Minimap] during my break this afternoon. I hadn¡¯t found any hops yet, but I wasn¡¯t giving up ¡®hop-e''! I''d quickly learned to toggle ¡®people¡¯ off as it turned the map into a useless sea of dots. While ¡®Enemies¡¯ wasn¡¯t a setting, ¡®monsters¡¯ was. Apparently a map can¡¯t really tell if someone wants to kill me, but it can tell if they want to eat me.


    Whistlemop was still hiding in our tenement room. He was dealing with a lot of Titled [Lawyers], and Balin and I were getting a bit tired of all the extrapany. There were multiple rumours surrounding the riot, but everyone agreed on one thing: it had started at Whistlemop¡¯s cart.


    Whistlemop swore up and down that some dwarf had blown up half his stock. Unfortunately, the ledger of purchasers had been lost during the riot so he didn¡¯t know who. He had some good ideas though, and had some adventurers investigating. Whistlemop¡¯s [Lawyers] were sure that he wasn¡¯t going to be held responsible, but he was still in legal limbo for now. For their part, City Hall had hired a [Psychometer] who could talk to objects and he had the broken Whistlemugs under arrest. Which was only the fourth most ridiculous thing I¡¯d heard this week.


    ¡°... big thanks to Pete for all his hard work!¡± I looked up at my name as everyone began pping. I bowed and waved back. Thank you, thank you, yes, yes. Annie resumed her speech and I switched my [Minimap] to ¡®quest items¡¯. I didn¡¯t have any quests where specific items were relevant, so nothing showed up. ¡®Monsters¡¯ was the same. Good thing, that.


    Then there was a lot more pping and I joined in. My attention snapped up as Richter and Johnsson moved forward. It looked like it was time to start! I ran to my station next to the boil-kettle and stood at the ready.


    ¡°And now, we will begin the first batch of our New Brew!¡± Annie announced proudly. That wasn¡¯t entirely true, we¡¯d tested it yesterday, but close enough.


    John went over and grabbed a big bag of the roasted erdroot that served as our malt. He brought it over to Johnsson, who began turning the crank to grind it into grist. I spat on my hands, rubbed them, and began to operate a hand-pump next to the brew-kettle. There were some gurgles, then some spurts, and soon clean water was roaring into therge copper pot.


    There was some excited chatter as the process began, but I ignored it to focus on pumping. I¡¯d cleaned and washed every single surfacest night and again this morning, and even checked the roasted erdroot for disease or rot. I¡¯d asked Balin to do a maintenance check on all the equipment, and Richter triple-checked all the runes on the hopback chiller. This was the realization of my ambitions, and I wasn¡¯t going to chance anything going wrong.


    John''s voice rose in a joyful tenor, and he was soon joined by Johnsson. The rest of us began to stomp our feet to the quick beat. It was clearly a mining song, but it seemed appropriate for the asion.


    Strike your pick, move it quick,


    In the length of a candlestick!


    In the ck, watch your back,


    Crack the stone with a mighty whack!


    Heave! Ho!


    Heave! Ho!


    Dwarf be bold, search for gold,


    Comb through the rock and moss and mould!


    Specks of light, fight or flight,


    Steel yourself for a bloody night!


    Heave! Ho!


    Heave! Ho!


    Mortal coil, work and toil.


    Dwarven life is a raging roil!


    Swing and dig,zy pig,


    Back at home dance a merry jig!


    Heave! Ho!


    Heave! Ho!


    Johnsson swore once when the crank smacked his shoulder, but the grind went off without a hitch. John lugged the grist up the steps of the catwalk connecting the hopback, mash tun, and boil kettle. He tossed the grist into the mash tun and Richter connected the water trough from the kettle, sending boiling hot water pouring over the yellow vegetable matter.


    Now it was Richter¡¯s turn for some hard manualbour as he began stirring the enormous wooden spoon, turning the mix of hot water and grist into mash. While he worked, Johnsson and I took a short break as Aqua brought us some water to drink. Even dwarves needed to stay hydrated!


    Annie went up the catwalk to observe and soon called down. ¡°All good so far! Dad, do you want to do the honours for the bittering agent? Johnsson, Pete, get off your butts and raise the mash tun!¡±


    Johnsson and I groaned and went to turn a crank that drove a screw underneath the mash tun. The tun was raised above the boil kettle and Annie re-attached the trough to a spout at the bottom of the tun. Richter turned the spigot and soon hot, steaming wort rushed down into the copper boil kettle. Small flecks of erdoot traveled with it, and I tsked. I¡¯d been so focused on the hopback I hadn¡¯t thought about setting up auter tun! I pulled out my notebook and added uter tun¡¯, along with a note about exploring temperature regtion during the mash. Oh well, it didn¡¯t <i>really </i>matter for this run, but it was something to improve for next time.


    ¡°How does the Wort look, Annie?¡± Aqua called up.


    ¡°Looks normal! But we haven¡¯t really done anything new yet. Hurry up dad, what are you doing?¡±


    Jeremiah was standing at the foot of the stairs, holding several bup bags full of his ¡®secret bittering ingredients¡¯ and staring at the brew kettle. He seemed practically in a trance. I shuffled until I was close by.


    ¡°You okay, Jeremiah?¡± I muttered. ¡°Yer daughter is going to worry about you. You can have an existential crisister, I¡¯ll even buy the beers! Just get those sacks up there!¡±


    Jeremiah shook himself and looked over at me. A series of conflicted emotions crossed his face until it settled on ¡®resigned¡¯.


    "Yer a smartd, Pete. M''Annie seems to think you can do anythin'' when ites to brewin''. She <i>says</i> yer tha greatest Brewer that ever lived."


    "That''s about right, Mr. Goldstone" I gave a smile that I hoped didn''te across as cocky.


    "I pray to tha Gods that''s true. Sometimes a dwarf has got ta trust in the strength of tha castle he''s built. I want yer oath that you''ll do everythin'' you can ta make this Brew a Perfect Batch no matter what." He stared at me with intense eyes.


    "I''ll try." He stared harder. "I swear."


    He nodded and ascended the stairs one at a time, each foot causing the steps to creak under his weight. There was a gravitas to the moment that brought silence to the brewery, broken only by the sound of boiling wort.


    ¡°Here ya are Annie.¡± Jeremiah croaked. He held out the sacks, and I had to give him credit, his hands only shook a little. Annie didn¡¯t notice though, only having eyes for her father¡¯s etched face.


    ¡°Thanks! Do you want me to throw them in?¡± She made to take a sack and Jeremiah clutched them tight.


    ¡°No. No, I¡¯ll do it. No need ta get yer own hands dirty.¡± He gave a sick smile and Annieughed. He walked over and pitched the sacks into the wort, where they were quickly pulled under by the convection currents. Annie stood beside him, taking one of his muscled fingers into her own smaller hand, and the two stared down into the roiling umber liquid for a while.


    A moment passed as we all watched them from below. Two dwarves, a father and daughter, preparing to pass on the torch. John sniffled a bit, and Tom put his arm around Aqua¡¯s shoulder. I thought back on a life that was, and buried a gasping sob.


    ¡°I¡¯m proud of ya, Annie.¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°Yer mum would be proud, and yer¡­ yer ancestors would be proud of ya too. Yer twice tha brewer I ever was.¡±


    ¡°Did you know your ent changes when you get emotional?¡± Annie said, a tear streaming down her face. ¡°It sounds ridiculous.¡±


    Jeremiah scooped her up in a big hug. ¡°I¡¯ll always love ya Annie Goldstone, no matter- no matter what.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll always love you too, dad.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t a dry eye in the ce. Jeremiah was the worst, with giant tears streaming down his sloppy face.


    It was always hard to see your child grow up.


    ¡ª


    The rest of the procedure went as well as we could have hoped. When the wort had boiled long enough, the bup bags were pulled out with a (fully washed) hook, and the transfer trough was maneuvered to the hopback. Hot, steamy, cloudy wort flowed into the hopback,plete with some trub made of sticks and leaves and gooey mash. Steam immediately rose from the branch and bup filter as the wort passed through. As it dripped through into the chiller, the change was immediately apparent; nearly all the trub had been removed. Annie and I shared a triumphant grin; the filter had worked! Since it was made with bitter branches, I decided we could call it our <i>bitta¡¯ filter</i>. Nyuck.


    The runes on the chiller lit up as Richter channeled mana into them. We could also use a monster core, but those were expensive. Richter and I had discussed the problem at length, and the final design was capable of using personal mana <i>or</i> monster cores as an energy source. It was a small piece of future-proofing that only cost a few extra gold. Annie stirred the wort in the chiller into a frothing whirlpool that rapidly grew more and more clear as the proteins separated out and fell to the bottom. In a few minutes all that was left was crystal clear wort. It had the cid stillness of cier water and a heavy, musty, aroma.


    Annie stared into the sparkling depths, her eyes reflecting a rainbow sheen on the surface of the wort that only she could see. She whispered reverentially. ¡°Let¡¯s get this into the first tank.¡±


    Johnsson maneuvered the trough and the clear liquid flowed into the fermentation tank. A gooey film of trub was left at the bottom of the chiller. I ran up the stairs to clean it up with a mop and bucket. The gunky trub was easy to clean now, but it would be a nightmare if we left it caked on for any real period of time. A few deft twists of the mop and a ssh of hot water would do for now, but I really needed that sanitiser! I had Whistlemop working on it, so I had nothing to do but wait.


    Annie went down from the catwalk towing Jeremiah behind her. Her face was stuck on ¡®joyous¡¯ and she said with a wild tone. ¡°It¡¯s done! Now we wait two weeks and the first new brew in millenia will be ready for the next stage!¡±


    The crowd cheered, though Jeremiah continued to weep. I patted the big lug on his back - he¡¯d get over it eventually. Maybe we could buy him a fancy magic horseless-wagon or something.

 Chapter 73: Waiting the Week Away

    <h4>Chapter 73: Waiting the Week Away</h4>


    Waiting for beer to ferment can drive a dwarf crazy. Thirty-two hour days didn''t help.


    It¡¯s like putting on a pot of water to boil. You can¡¯t help but stare at it, desperately willing it to boil faster. Fermentation is like that, but with a lot more crusty Kr?usen.


    So we waited, and kept ourselves busy during the time the pub wasn¡¯t open. Every morning Balin and I woke up and had a simple breakfast of goat sausage, eggs, and oats. Balin would run to schmooze with Annie while I schmoozed a cup of coffee at Joejam¡¯s caf¨¦.


    I would arrive mid-morning to help Bran do prep work in the kitchen while Johnsson, Richter, and John cleaned. Annie did paperwork, Aqua ran errands with Tom (whom I <i>still</i> hadn¡¯t been introduced to), and Balin did preventative maintenance.


    Then we all met for lunch in the pub while Bran served us a delicious new meal every day.


    Today was Beet and Goat stew with Garlic-bread.


    Yesterday was Fried Chicken with Fries and Gravy.


    Tomorrow was Beans on Toast with Braised Goat.


    After that we had the early afternoon to do whatever we wanted. It didn¡¯t really equate to a break though, since there was just so much to do.


    A week thus passed.


    ¡ª


    ¡°No, no, no!¡±


    My voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the myriad ss surfaces in an odd fragmented reverb.


    ¡°Look, the neck of the bottle here <i>needs</i> to be reinforced, or the Whistlestop will break it when the pressure gets high enough!¡±


    Whistlemop and I had decided that <i>Whistlestop </i>was a good name for the Lightning-stopper bottle-topper. I didn¡¯t care enough to tell him ¡®no¡¯, and the name had a certain poetry to it. In return, I got a concession that we would <i>not </i>be naming everything in the brand <i>Whistle-whatevers</i>.


    Ralph took the bottle back and turned it around. ¡°Hrm. Ma son designed this one. Looks like he was cuttin¡¯ tha thickness of the ss to improve the flow. If you make the opening too small it¡¯ll be damn hard to drink.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, trust me! Drinking from a bottle works fine, even if the neck is really small. As long as you can fit a finger in, that¡¯s good enough.¡±


    Ralph brought the bottle to his lips and stuck his tongue in it. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes, absolutely.¡±


    ¡°Yer funeral.¡±


    ¡°My <i>gold </i>too.¡±


    Ralph grumbled as he moved along. Whistlemop reced him, walking over to poke me in the side.


    ¡°<i>Our</i> gold, thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Our gold. How is the investigation goin¡¯?¡±


    Whistlemop gave a simultaneous sigh of long suffering and relief. ¡°Oh, swimmingly. The [Psychometer] was able to get witness testimony from the mugs that a Blessing was used on them. Combined with testimony from other witnesses, I am off the hook and can re-open my shop.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°That may not be a good idea if whoever did it is still out there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not too concerned. The city promised me a full-time [Guard], and I hired a [Wizard] to flesh out my personal security.¡±


    We shared a fist bump, which was the dwarven societal equivalent of a high-five. ¡°May I rmend a new limited-edition Whistlemug to ¡®Commemorate the Grand Market Riot¡¯¡±?


    Whistlemop gave a high-pitchedugh. ¡°Hah! That¡¯s a little too mercantile even for me! I don¡¯t think City Hall would appreciate it.¡±


    ¡°Ah well, it was worth a try. Any word on my experiments?¡±


    ¡°Yessss¡­?¡± Whistlemop tasted the word, his anxiety obviously spiking.


    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    ¡°One of the protective cases cracked when the bottle inside exploded. It <i>cracked </i>Pete. That ss was capable of holding a <i>mushfolk</i>.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Now you see why I wanted it to be that strong. Do you have anything more to inspect here, or can we move to the warehouse?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t believe you! It sounded ridiculous!¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± I gave Whistlemop the barest sliver of my attention as we made our way through the shiny new ssworks. Rows upon rows of translucent ss bottles were stacked along the walls, awaiting the New Brew.


    Soon. But first, it was time to see which priming sugar ratio won my little science experiment.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Beer¡¯s not allowed in tha Library, Pete.¡± Richter hissed at me.


    ¡°Pshaw, the librarians don¡¯t care so long as you don¡¯t spill it.¡± I wave a hand in dismissal. ¡°I¡¯ve seen a half-dozen other dwarves drinkin¡¯ in thest week alone. Someone even broke out a keg.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I nevah noticed.¡±


    ¡°Of course not. Your eyes are always stuck deep into whatever book you¡¯re reading. Sometimes you need to look up and appreciate the world around you Richter.¡±


    ¡°I cahm to tha library ta <i>study</i>, not look around!¡±


    ¡°We are all students of life, Richter. No dwarf is an ind.¡±


    ¡°Tha¡¯s a stupid sayin¡¯ and ya should be embarrassed ya evah came up wit it.¡°


    I sputtered. ¡°I didn¡¯t - you can¡¯t - whatever¡­¡± I held out a beer bottle filled with amber liquid. ¡°Drink this.¡±


    He took it from me and turned it this way and that, observing it. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Beer.¡±


    ¡°Aye can see <i>dat</i>. What¡¯s it <i>in</i>?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a beer bottle.¡±


    ¡°A what, now?¡±


    ¡°A bottle is a piece of ssware with a wide bottom and a fluted top, it ismonly -¡±


    ¡°Ah <i>get</i> dat, Pete!¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s something Annie and I have been workin¡¯ on. More importantly I want someone that actually likes beer to drink these two bottles and tell me how they taste.¡±


    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t like beer?¡± Richter muttered as he grabbed the bottle. ¡°Why naht ask Balin or Annie?¡±


    ¡°We were already scheduled to meet today for our study session on magical diagrams, and I wanted to thank you for your time! I can promise that you¡¯re in for a treat!¡±


    ¡°Yer more than wee Petar. I got ma Blessin¡¯ doin'' dis, so I got no issue tutorin¡¯ ya whenevah.¡± He fumbled with the Whistlestop while he talked, but quickly figured out how to operate it. ¡°Huh, neat.¡±


    I jerked as I realized my mistake; Richter had never opened a bottle before! ¡°Richter, WAIT!¡± I dove on top of the books on the table, blocking them with my body.


    *POP*


    *PSSSHHHHHHH!!!!*


    ¡°Argghhh!!!¡±


    ¡°SHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!¡±


    ¡°SORRY!¡± Richter and I chorused. He red at me, his face and chest sopping wet. I had the good sense to be bashful; that was totally my fault.


    ¡°Let me¡­ go get a towel for you.¡± I stood up and handed him my cloak to catch any drippage.


    ¡°Ya do dat.¡± Richter grumped, then sniffed the open beer bottle with curiosity.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m dry. You¡¯re dry. The table¡¯s dry. That beer is probably <i>extra</i> dry. Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    ¡°If tha librariansin I¡¯m leavin¡¯ <i>you</i> out ta dry.¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡±


    I popped open my own bottle of beer with a practiced hand, releasing the pressure slowly to avoid another ¡®a-pop-alypse¡¯ . The familiar ¡®psshhh¡¯ of escaping carbonation was music to my ears.


    ¡°Yer pretty good at dat.¡± Richter noted.


    ¡°Thanks. Cheers!¡± I held my bottle out and he clinked it with his own.


    ¡°Cheeahs!¡±


    I pulled my head back, and drank.


    I¡¯d chosen the bottle with the highest ratio of priming sugar - ratio number six - which was the highest after the other ones had all exploded. Three total had gone *KA-BREWIE!!* and another two had exploded when I¡¯d shaken them in their protective shells. I tossed ratio seven just to be safe.


    The higher ratio meant it would be slightly sweeter and have a higher alcohol content than regr beer, but I wanted that anyway. Richter had ratio number four, which would be closer to that ¡®authetic True Brew taste¡¯.


    The beer foamed up as I tipped the ss, exploding onto my palette like electric fuzz. It sparkled between my tongue and teeth, foaming as it went down my gullet. It was my first time drinking a heavily carbonated drink in over a year and I almost choked on it. Beside me, Richter actually <i>did</i> sputter, foam freckling his orange beard.


    The beer was just as sour and gritty as I remembered. I swished it around in my mouth to appreciate the mouth-feel. It was a little over-carbonated, and the higher alcohol content had affected the taste rather severely. It still wasn¡¯t ¡®good¡¯ but it was certainly better. The bittering agents was my biggestint, and I had no control over that.


    All in all, an excellent attempt. I was a bit sad that my quest to make a New Brew didn¡¯tplete; I probably needed to brew it from start to finish. First, though¡­


    ¡°How is it?¡±


    Richter had a stunned expression on his face, and was staring at the bottle.


    ¡°Pete¡­ this is just beer.¡±


    ¡°Yeaaahhh?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ REALLY GOOD BEER!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°It actually explodes in mah mouth! Ah can feel it cracklin¡¯ on ma tongue and fillin¡¯ ma stomach.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! It - ¡±


    ¡°The fizzin¡¯ out o¡¯ tha¡¯ bottle brang wit it tha scent of tha Brew and draws me closer, daring me to taste tha Pinnacle o¡¯ delights within!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you can -¡±


    ¡°Then tha vour of it! It¡¯s got tha¡¯ cleanest taste of any brew I¡¯ve ever had! There¡¯s no metallic aftertaste from tha pewter mug, or a slight taste of wet wood. Each sip tastes just like thest! It flows from tha ss like tha Great Waterfall roars from tha Pinnacle!¡±


    ¡°You know, I¡¯d really like to -¡±


    Richter stood on his chair and held his bottle up into the air.


    ¡°Tha clear crystal o¡¯ the bottle gives me a full view o¡¯ the wonders I will soon drink, their precious vours beggin¡¯ ta be imbibed. No dwarf has evah drank it¡¯s like, and I dare any dwarf to im themselves its equal!¡±


    I looked around nervously; we were gathering a crowd. ¡°That was really poetic, but you should probably -¡±


    ¡°I dere this the GREATEST BEER IN ALL O¡¯ MINNOVA! NAY, ALL O¡¯ CRACK!¡±


    *Ahem*


    ¡ª


    ¡°Ah can¡¯t believe ya got us thrown outta da library.¡±


    ¡°ME!? It was <i>your</i> Gods-bedamned soliloquy!¡±


    Richter sighed and copsed onto the stairs. ¡°Aye, it was. That was an incredible bottle o¡¯ beer Pete.¡±


    I pulled out my notebook. ¡°You had ratio number four. Would you say it tasted simr to a regr brew?¡±


    Richter looked at me like I was a crazy person. ¡°Did ya not hear me?¡±


    ¡°There were a lot of adjectives that don¡¯t y nicely with my nice, neat, scientific process.¡±


    ¡°It tasted... Like normal, but better.¡±


    ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Do you¡­ have more?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Hey Aqua. Drink this.¡±


    ¡°Wow, hello to you too, Pete.¡± Aqua looked at the already opened bottle in her hand. ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°Just drink it. It¡¯s beer.¡±


    ¡°Is there something wrong with it?¡±


    ¡°No¡­?¡± I hedged.


    ¡°Just because you <i>believe </i>it¡¯s true, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s <i>actually </i>true.¡±


    I bit my lip. ¡°Richter said he would kill everyone in the brewery for another taste of it.¡±


    Aqua¡¯s eyes widened to the size of saucers. ¡°<i>Richter</i> said that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still on the fence about whether that¡¯s a good thing.¡±


    ¡°Richter is mellower than a cat in a sunbeam. It must be good.¡± Aqua peeked in through the opening. ¡°Is that.. sparks?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s carbonation fizzing out through the bottleneck. You have sugar ratio number three. Are you going to drink it or not?¡±


    ¡°Fine, don¡¯t rush me!¡± She took a sip. Then a dreg. Then a chug.


    Wow, Aqua could drink! She must have been taking lessons from Tania during opening hours!


    She finished and wiped her lips with her arm, sttering fizzy beer all over her well-groomed blue beard.


    ¡°How was it?¡±


    ¡°MORE!¡± She grabbed my shirt.


    ¡°AHHHH!!!¡±


    ¡°AAGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!¡±


    ¡ª


    I burst into the tenement room, my shirt torn and filthy. The armour, it did nothing!


    ¡°Pete?¡± Balin asked. He was sweeping up the space Whistlemop had upied until this morning. The little bugger took up a surprising amount of room. Though I guess a gnome wasn¡¯t <i>that</i> much smaller than a dwarf. I still had a nagging subconscious mental image of gnomes as knee high, instead of the chest high they actually were.


    ¡°You need to hide me, Balin! They¡¯reing!¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯sin¡¯?¡±


    *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*


    ¡°No! Don¡¯t - ¡° I hissed, but it was toote.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± Balin asked, walking up to the door.


    ¡°It¡¯s Aqua and Richter, is Pete there?¡±


    Balin looked at me with questioning eyes and I made a chopping motion across my neck.


    ¡°Erm¡­ No. I haven¡¯ seen ¡®im.¡± Balin said, robotically. I rolled my eyes. There was a brief pause.


    *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*


    ¡°We know you¡¯re in there Pete! We just want to talk!!!¡±


    I whimpered and started piling chairs against the door.


    Balin tried to stop me. ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t break those, I spent a long time makin¡¯ them!¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t matter if we die today! Hurry and help me!¡± I continued tossing furniture against the door, which was making increasingly loud banging noises. Unnoticed behind me, a brown bottle rolled out of my hastily dropped rucksack and rolled across the floor. Balin picked it up.


    ¡°What¡¯s this? Hey, it¡¯s tha bottled beer ya were talkin about!¡± He levered it open with a *pop* and the banging on the door grew more frenzied. ¡°Smells real good! Can I try?¡± He took a sip.


    ¡°Balin!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!¡±


    ¡ª


    Bran looked at me with concern as I despondently peeled erdroot beside him.


    ¡°What happened to <i>you</i>?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±


    ¡°You ok?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­ I¡¯m a doomed genius.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. Well, yer holdin¡¯ the peeler upside down, ¡®genius¡¯¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    There was a patter of feet on the floor as Annie burst into the kitchen. I moaned and dropped into a curled-up fetal position. ¡°Not you too! I¡¯m out of bottled beers!¡±


    ¡°Are you still moping about Aqua¡¯s prank!? Get over it, I need you!¡±


    She grabbed me by the arm and pulled.


    I pulled back. ¡°What! PRANK!? That <i>dirty little MINX!¡±</i>


    ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with the brew!!!¡±


    I was up and running in an instant.

 Chapter 74: Cauldron Bubble

    <h4>Chapter 74: Cauldron Bubble</h4>


    We looked down into the bubbling vat of the open-top fermenter. The Kr?usen was foaming and bubbling merrily, a clear sign of a healthy yeast culture. The problem was¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s fermenting too fast.¡± I said, giving it a stir with thedle.


    ¡°It started this morning. The Ancestral Seed shouldn¡¯t be so thick already, and the bubbling is far too vigorous.¡± Annie said, wringing her hands. ¡°What¡¯s happening?!¡±


    I was worried enough that I didn¡¯t even care about the awful name.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t do anything that should be causing this. Even if it was a yeast infection, it should be causing the fermentation to <i>fail, </i>not <i>speed up.</i>¡±


    ¡°So what <i>is</i> it!?¡± Annie asked again, beginning to hyperventte. I looked at her sharply, and realized her face was turning white; she was going into shock.


    ¡°Bran!¡± I called. ¡°I need you, get in here!¡±


    Bran peeked his head in through the door from the pub. ¡°I thought I wasn¡¯t allowed in here yet. Somethin¡¯ wrong?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I need you to go get a bag. Make Annie breathe into it. Annie, go with Bran. I¡¯ll see if I can figure out what¡¯s going wrong.¡±


    ¡°Oh Gods. I can¡¯t have it all go wrong again.¡± Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as Bran led her away.


    I turned back to the tank and gave it another spin with thedle.


    Over my lifetime, I had hundreds of failed brews. I suspected the average dwarven brewer saw even more. There were dozens of reasons a brew could fail, but they all had certain tell-tale signs.


    I gave the brew another stir, watching the colour and texture of the Kr?usen. It had the thick white-cheeselike consistency of a healthy batch, and none of the signs of a yeast infection. That was a good sign, since it indicated our sanitization efforts were doing their job.


    The next step would be to check the pH and specific gravity, which would give me the rate of fermentation. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t measure pH or specific gravity without the proper tools. For the umpteenth time I cursed the stagnation of the brewing profession. Even if they didn¡¯t want to change their precious brew, they could have at least improved <i>how</i> they made it!


    Bran came back in. ¡°I¡¯ve got her propped up in one of my booths. She¡¯s huffin¡¯ into a bup sack. Dunno what that¡¯s supposed to do, though.¡±


    ¡°Maybe nothing, but it gets her out of here. Keep an eye on her. Is anyone else in the brewery right now?¡±


    ¡°No. Everyone went out after lunch and hasn¡¯te back yet.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s Jeremiah?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him all day.¡±


    ¡°John?¡±


    ¡°Left with Johnsson for some family bondin'' time.¡±


    I grit my teeth; I knew where everyone <i>else</i> was. They were probably yucking it up in my tenement room after they¡¯d yanked my chain. I took a deep breath. It had been a good prank, and they couldn¡¯t have known an emergency like this would pop up. It was fine, I could deal with it.


    ¡°Keep an eye on Annie. When she¡¯s well enough to leave unattended I want you to run to my ce. Do you know where it is?¡±


    ¡°No, but I can ask Annie.¡±


    ¡°Alright, go.¡±


    He went. I looked around the brewery and began to methodically check every tank. They all showed the exact same symptoms: overly thick Kr?usen, far too much bubbling, and a slightly vinegary scent. I decided to go through my own personal ¡®Help! Help! My batch is bad!¡¯ checklist.


    Heavy Kr?usen could mean too much sugar in the wort, a chemical imbnce, or a high temperature. The usual solutions were to add more water, use softer or harder water, or buy fancy, expensive, useless, chemicals from the craft-brew store. As for temperature¡­


    I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a finely crafted meat thermometer, and gave it a thorough wash. I dunked it into the brew and waited a few seconds. It read¡­ hot. Fermenting beer had a temperature of 20-22¡æ and this was fermenting at closer to the dwarven equivalent of 25¡æ. That was hotter than the room, which meant something was wrong with the <i>brew</i> and not the surroundings.


    I looked around the room. Every tank in the building was doing this. All fourteen of them. That eliminated any kind of contamination caused by dropping something into one of them.


    Chilling the wort wouldn¡¯t cause this, and removing the cold break proteins that fell out shouldn¡¯t be a problem either. Same with the rest of the hopback processes. A bad sanitizer could cause it, but we only used boiling water! I growled with frustration and moved on.


    Next on the checklist was the smell. A vinegary scent like that was caused by excess acetic acid in the beer. Acetic acid was apletely normal part of regr beer, and usually didn''t cause any problems. Heck, mostmbic beers were notable for their high acetic acid levels. It didn¡¯t mean the beer was ruined, just that something was <i>wrong</i>. If it smelled like throw-up or mouthwash it meant the beer was bad, but most ¡®food¡¯ smells like vinegar, apples, butter, or bananas just meant an imbnce of some kind. Some ales orgers even aimed for those smells; True Brew had a smell closer to cheese. The cause for the vinegar smell was most likely the higher temperature.


    Thest symptom was the bubbles, a sign of rapid breakdown of the sugars into alcohol and carbon dioxide. That was - again - contamination, too much sugar, or high temperature. I couldn¡¯t do anything about contamination right now, so I focused on temperature.


    A high temperature was most often caused by a poor pitch rate. Pitch rate was determined by the amount of yeast added to the wort. A low pitch rate could cause the fermentation stage to failpletely, while a high pitch rate could result in higher temperatures and a faster fermentation.


    This looked like a high pitch rate. Which made no <i>sense</i>. A high pitch rate in all fourteen tanks was unlikely, but we <i>had</i> changed the brewing process enough that the old pitch rate might be wrong.


    I almostughed at my own desperation. This was the first ¡®bad batch¡¯ I¡¯d fretted over in decades. A failed brew was just one of those things, and I couldn¡¯t remember thest time I¡¯d been so invested in a single brewing. My promise to Jeremiah was upping the emotional ante a bit too.


    ¡°Pete.¡± Annie came back through the door. ¡°I sent Bran to go fetch everyone. Talk to me, what¡¯s happening?¡±


    I looked at her with concern. Her face was still a bit white, but was regaining colour quickly. ¡°Are you feelin¡¯ a bit better? If you get faint I¡¯m going to need you to sit back down.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. I just¡­ had a bit of a sh-back. This is my brewery, and I need to know what¡¯s going on.¡± Her voice grew firm.


    I nodded, happy to oblige. ¡°It¡¯s a high speed, high temperature fermentation.¡±


    She came up alongside me and took thedle, stirring a tank for herself. ¡°Any idea what might have caused it?¡±


    ¡°Either we added too much... Ancestral Seed. Or there was some kind of contamination. Those are the only things that make sense.¡±


    Annie brought some of the Kr?usen to her mouth and gave it a smell and a lick.


    ¡°It tastes fine, and the colour is right, but the smell is wrong.¡±


    She hopped down and walked around the brew-room, examining every surface and peeking into the tanks. I followed after.


    ¡°I used the regr amount of Ancestral Seed. Could the hopback have changed the amount required?¡±


    ¡°Honestly? Maaaaybe? I really, really, doubt it though. Contamination makes the most sense.¡±


    ¡°Why? Are there any contaminants that would result in a good, but too quick, fermentation? I¡¯ve never seen anything like this.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Honestly Annie, you haven¡¯t seen anythin¡¯ like this because you haven¡¯t been experimenting with your brewing enough. I¡¯ve seen so <i>much</i> stuff like this that there are almost too many possibilities.¡±


    ¡°Give me some.¡±


    I began counting on my fingers. ¡°Contaminated wort. I know there have been difficulties with the erdroot supply chain, and that seems the most likely.


    Next is the water. We¡¯re underground so some kind of mineral contamination is always a possibility. That would help exin the vinegar smell. Mineral oil could cause bubbling, since oil increases fermentation rate.


    Then there is contamination of the cleaning supplies. All things considered, that seems unlikely.


    Thest possibility would be contamination of the bittering agent, but I don¡¯t know enough about that toment on it.¡±


    Annie waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Dad gets a lot of the ingredients for the bittering agent from local [Alchemists]. I would make that the least likely.¡±


    ¡°Okay, that leaves the water and the erdroot.¡±


    Annie grabbed an erdroot from a nearby sack and gave it a bite. I swore.


    ¡°By all the Bits of the Gods, Annie! We¡¯re discussing if those are <i>contaminated!</i> Don¡¯t EAT them!¡±


    ¡°It tastes fine.¡± She said tly.


    ¡°It could be a bacteria that you can¡¯t taste, or a wild yeast, or a chemical it absorbed while it sprouted! No, stop that, no more!¡± I grabbed her hand before she could take another bite out of it.


    ¡°Fine. Let''s get an [Alchemist] to test the water."


    "Okay. If that¡¯s the problem there are chemicals we could add to offset that. They would change the taste of the beer though, and we wanted to avoid that.¡±


    There was a *bang* as the door to the brew-room from the foyer flew open. Aqua, Balin, and Richter tumbled in.


    ¡°What¡¯s happenin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Annie, are you alright!?¡±


    ¡°Pete! Can I halp!?¡±


    ¡°Balin!¡± Annie ran over and embraced her beau. He stroked her hair as she gasped into his chest. Then he hollered as she grabbed both ends of his handlebar moustache and stared into his eyes.


    ¡°Not the moustache again!¡±


    She twisted a bit and his shriek fell to a whimper. ¡°Balin, I need you to take a bucket of our water to the nearest [Alchemist] and ask them to test it for hardness and contamination. Take some gold and do it, <i>now</i>.¡±


    ¡°No, wait.¡± I blocked him as he went to grab a bucket. ¡°We don¡¯t want people to think there¡¯s something wrong with our beer. Go to an [Alchemist] on the other end of town. No, wait. Drum, go ask for Drum at the Rusty Battleaxe.¡±


    ¡°That bastard?¡± Annie scoffed.


    ¡°He¡¯s a friend through Sam.¡± I exined. ¡°I trust him, sort of.¡± Well, he¡¯d helped me with a kinda-maybe-kidnapping so I was already kind of screwed if he chose to stab me in the back. Not that Annie needed to know that.


    ¡°Ugh, fine. Go to Drum, Balin.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m gone.¡±


    While the three of us conferred, Richter moved around the tanks and Aqua mbered up into the rafters. She methodically poked around the dark, but clean, corners of the ceiling.


    ¡°Hey!¡± She called down; a blue fairy hanging above the brewroom.


    We ignored her, busy with our own conversation.


    ¡°Hey, listen!¡±


    We all looked up.


    ¡°Pete, Annie, you need to see this!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°What <i>is</i> that?¡± Annie muttered.


    I frowned. The angle of the light up here caused the tanks below to take on a slightly rainbow sheen. It wasn¡¯t visible from the ground, but from up here we could see an odd shimmer over all the tanks.


    ¡°It looks like pellicle, or oil contamination? But¡­ weirder?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s pellicle?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s like cold-break. Except while cold-break is a clump of proteins that falls out during chilling, pellicle forms a biofilm on the surface of fermenting beer. It¡¯s a sign of spoge. But that isn¡¯t what this looks like - <i>this </i>looks more like a weird kind of oil contamination.¡±


    ¡°Would that cause what we¡¯re seeing?¡± Annie asked, hope in her voice.


    ¡°Like I said earlier, oil acts as a catalyst that increases the rate of fermentation. It helps the yeast consume sugar faster. It would absolutely cause all the different symptoms we¡¯re seeing. It''s just abnormally fast, and it''s making so much Ancestral Seed that it''s just... like¡­ magic...¡± I petered off as I considered a terrible possibility.


    I leaned down and shouted at Richter. "Yo! Can you use yer fancy new magic eyes?"


    Richter called back. ¡°Aye - Hey! Ah¡¯m sensin'' weird manain'' from dis one! I don¡¯t tink that¡¯s supposed to be happenin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?¡± We all chorused and rushed back down.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Da strange mana is in all fourteen tanks.¡± Richter stated,ing down from the catwalk.


    ¡°Is that normal, Annie?¡± I asked. I wasn¡¯t an expert on this by any means.


    ¡°I doubt it. Aqua, were there any magical ingredients in our supplies? Or anything we purchased from someone that might have identally got in?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Aqua shook her head. ¡°No, absolutely not.¡±


    ¡°Damnit!¡± Annie mmed her fist against the side of a tank. ¡°I can¡¯t <i>believe </i>this! Is it really the Ancestors cursing my brew!?¡± There was a hushed silence as we all fell deep into thought.


    There were a lot of things I could help with, but this was outside my purview. Richter would be far more helpful, and even he didn¡¯t know what to do. His primary fields of study were magical constructs and mana diagrams. If only I had [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]... I did a quick [sh of Insight] as a habit, just in case it -


    ¡°[REFINE BREW]!!!¡± I shouted, startling everyone. ¡°My new Blessing consumes magical ingredients in alchemical concoctions!¡±


    "That''s right!!" Annie gasped. ¡°What does it say, <i>exactly</i>?¡±


    I pulled it up and read aloud.


    <strong>[Refine Brew]</strong> - <i>You are able to refine and stabilize a container of alchemical liquid with a touch. If the brew contains any unstable magical aethers they will be forced into equilibrium. The brew will be more nutritious and have a longer shelf life. </i>


    <i>You can use this ability once per second.</i>


    ¡°Will it work?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°Who knows!?¡± Annie moaned, ¡°Nobody¡¯s ever done anything like this with beer before! Normally we¡¯d just scrap it! I just don¡¯t want to lose my first batch!¡±


    ¡°It may be betta to jast let it go?¡± Richter said hesitantly.


    ¡°Not without trying this first. Pete, do it.¡± Annie said with conviction.


    I pressed my hand up against the side of the tank. ¡°Okay, here goes. [Refine Brew]!¡±


    Nothing happened.


    ¡°It¡¯spletely unnecessary to say Blessings aloud.¡± Aqua muttered.


    Then I got the prompt.


    *Bing!*


    <strong><i>Milestone Used</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i></i><i>Combine [Unrefined Lily-Leopard Liver Oil] with [Beer]?</i>


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i> Yes/No</i>


    I hit ¡®yes¡¯ and the prompt disappeared as my hand glowed with an inner light.

 Chapter 75: Lily-Livered

    <h4>Chapter 75: Lily-Livered</h4>


    *Bing!*


    <i>¡®Unrefined Lily-Leopard Liver Oil¡¯ has been sessfullybined with ¡®Beer¡¯</i>.


    My hand stopped glowing, and I waved the notification away.


    And¡­ that was it. There was no further sh of light, the tank didn¡¯t glow or change colour or anything like that. It was a bit anticlimactic actually.


    Annie¡¯s desperate face popped in front of me.


    ¡°What happened? Did it work?¡±


    ¡°I think it did? There was a notification on it. But - ¡° I looked around the room at everyone, ¡°what the heck is unrefined lily-leopard liver oil?¡±


    ¡ª


    It took almost an hour, but the tank I¡¯d refined began to slow down its rate of fermentation. Soon it was obviously different from the rest of the tanks, and the vinegar scent became less pronounced. It appeared that [Refine Brew] had worked. There was a lot of cheering and back-pping, followed by a serious debate on whether I should do it again. We weren¡¯t sure what bining¡¯ a magical ingredient with beer meant, or what it would do. Was it even safe to drink?


    After some discussion, Annie made the executive decision to use [Refine Brew] on all of the tanks before they spoiled. Hopefully it wouldn''t be poisonous or mess with the bottle racking step. It took less than a minute for me to walk between the tanks, activating the Blessing on each one in turn.


    When I finished refining everything I walked into Annie¡¯s office. She and Aqua were busy poring over paperwork. Aqua was checking our supply lists, and Annie was running numbers to see if we could afford to scrap the entire batch if necessary. In the meantime, Richter wasbing the bags of Erdroot with his [Manasight] while Balin was still out delivering our water to Drum.


    I grabbed a chair and scooted next to Aqua, reading over her shoulder. ¡°What''s our first suspect?¡±


    ¡°Our supplier for the bittering agents is Alchemist ck. The ck family has been our primary supplier for over three thousand years. He also supplies over half the brewers in the city. An event like this could ruin him.¡± Aqua muttered. ¡°A mistake is possible, but I just don¡¯t see it happening. It <i>has</i> to be the water, it¡¯s the only thing that makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Where else could it havee from?¡±


    ¡°It could have been a few of the erdroot that we used?¡± Annie said, standing up and walking over.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But how would a magical ingredient even get into the erdroot? A contaminated water-source or contaminated supplies from the Alchemist make the most sense.¡±


    ¡°Annie, would your dad have any ideas?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°I can, if he¡¯s home. Pete, can you check with your map?¡±


    The Goldstone n home was right next door to the brewery. It was the windowless fortress-style building I¡¯d originally assumed was empty.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit too far away. My [Minimap] only really has a range of twenty meters or so.¡±


    Aqua whistled. ¡°That¡¯s still pretty amazing. Can you teach me your secret for easy Milestones?¡±


    ¡°I could tell you, but then I¡¯d have to kill you.¡± I gave a vicious smile.


    Aquaughed, then grew pale. ¡°Wait, that was true? You - ¡±


    ¡°Hold on, let me check something.¡± I interrupted, and then searched the filters in my map. ¡°It is! Since I just did some brewing with it, the leopard-oil can be toggled on my minimap!¡±


    I flicked it on, but no dots appeared. ¡°<i>Nuts</i>, that would have been too easy.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°There¡¯s good news and bad news. The good news is that our water and erdroot are probably fine. I don¡¯t see any sources of lily-leopard oil in the brewery. The <i>bad</i> news is that we already threw away the bag of used bittering agents a week ago, so there¡¯s no way to check that.¡±


    ¡°Ugh. Okay, I want to get dad. I¡¯ll see if he¡¯s home, give me a moment.¡± She ran off.


    ¡°Do you really think he¡¯ll be able to help?¡± I asked Aqua.


    ¡°Maybe. He has a Blessing that tells him the ingredients of a finished brew, and another one that¡¯s kind of like your [Refine Brew] but doesn''t work with magical ingredients. Oh, and the Milestone [Check Quality]! It tells him if something is safe to drink.¡±


    ¡°Great. We¡¯re <i>really</i> going to need that. Can he tell us what''s in the tanks?¡±


    "No, it only works on <i>finished</i> brews."


    "<i>Double</i> Nuts."


    After a few short minutes, Annie came running back, her face stormy.


    Aqua jumped out of her seat. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Dad¡¯s on his way, but he¡¯s¡­ drunk.¡± Annie hissed. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the afternoon! I didn¡¯t take over all of this so he could drink all morning! Argh! I can¡¯t believe him!!!¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Aqua patted Annie gingerly on the back.


    ¡°It can be really hard to step away from something you¡¯ve done for hundreds of years.¡± I pointed out. I really felt for Jeremiah. Not only was his daughter moving on, but she had immediately pulled his little beer empire in apletely different direction, forsaking generations of Goldstone tradition. He had to be wondering if any of what he¡¯d built meant anything. Or worse, whether he was even necessary any more. Back on Earth people would often up and die a year or two after retirement as their body and brain essentially went: ¡®why bother?¡¯.


    ¡°We need to get him active.¡± I said firmly.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°Jeremiah¡¯s going to be in the middle of his mid-life crisis. We need ta get him a magic horseless-carriage or something and focus his energy towards new hobbies. Maybe a girlfriend? Sorry, Annie.¡±


    ¡°Anything would be better than what I just saw.¡± Annie grumbled. ¡°His only hobbies are beer-making and beer-drinking with his buddies.¡±


    ¡°See? That¡¯s the problem. Now that he isn¡¯t working as much he only has one hobby left. What else does he do?¡±


    Annie began hesitantly, ¡°Before¡­ before mom died, dad used to take me fishing. He also liked to do weight-lifting and wrestling.¡±


    I whistled. ¡°That exins quite a few things.¡± Jeremiah was built like a bodybuilder because he <i>was</i> a bodybuilder.


    ¡°Afterwards, he spent so much time taking care of me, and focusing on the business, that he just¡­ stopped. We couldn¡¯t really afford people to watch and take care of me, so he kept me in the brewery and taught me the ropes while he worked. He- he was a great dad. I never meant for this to happen! And our first brew almost failed! Maybe it already did!¡± Annie looked like she was about to cry and then smashed a fist down on her small side table, denting it.


    ¡°By Lunara¡¯s Lace, I swear that I¡¯m going to get to the bottom of this!¡± She circled the room, clearly winding herself up.


    Aqua and I looked at each other with worry, and then back to Annie. I tried using a soothing tone to calm her down.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see about taking him out fishing with Balin. Maybe we can catch enough to reduce our costs for the pub. In the meantime, do you want to reach out to any of his old friends and see if they¡¯d be willin¡¯ to take him to the gym?¡±


    Annie visibly calmed. ¡°Aye, I can do that.¡±


    We sat around and waited a few more minutes, but Jeremiah didn¡¯t show. Annie was considering running back to the house when Richter popped his head in.


    ¡°Dere¡¯s no magic anywhere but Bran¡¯s kitchen and tha hopback. Unless you tink it could be him, I¡¯m stumped.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I stood up from my seat. ¡°I think there¡¯s better things for me to be doing right now. Richter, can youe with? I might need your help.¡±


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Aqua asked, standing up as well.


    ¡°I¡¯m heading to the library to look up this leopard-oil junk. That may offer some clues. Since it¡¯s magical, Richter might be necessary.¡±


    ¡°Aye, good n.¡± Richter nodded.


    ¡°You need to make sure you¡¯re back in time to open the pub.¡± Annie warned. ¡°This little event isn¡¯t going to stop us.¡±


    ¡°Obviously not.¡± I smiled. ¡°We¡¯re all stubborn as goats.¡±


    For the first time this evening, Annie smiled. ¡°Good luck. I hope you find something.¡±


    ¡°Me too. Let¡¯s go Richter.¡±


    As we stepped out the door, I received a new notification.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: The Malted Mystery!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>Your first brew was mysteriously contaminated with a magical alchemical ingredient.</i><i></i>


    <i> Who or what caused it?</i><i></i>


    <i> Culprits Found: 0/2</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Wisdom, [White Lie]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Culprits, plural? Well, that didn¡¯t bode well; I¡¯d talk about it with Annie when I got back. I epted the quest for now and ran after Richter.


    ¡ª


    ¡°I found it.¡± Richter pointed to a spot in his book.


    I leaned over to read it, ¡°Wow, you read that fast.¡±


    ¡°I got a Milestonest week! Fer readin¡¯ over eight hundred books!¡±


    We were both seated across from each other in the alchemy shop. Librarian Uric hadn¡¯t let us back in the library, though we''d been able to talk him down to a one week ban.


    Rather than run across town to the next library we headed to the nearest alchemy shop, a quaint little ce called <i>Primrose¡¯s Philters</i>. The purple dots indicating lily-liver oil were all over the ce, so we were clearly on the right track.


    I considered just <i>asking</i> the [Alchemist] for help, but I think Annie still wanted a modicum of secrecy. Just in case people started wondering why the staff of the Thirsty Goat was suddenly curious about a possible poison.


    Instead, I bought all the books on basic alchemical ingredients in Crack and Minnova. It was only three books, but they cost ten gold each!! The alchemy store had a ce for people to study, so we sat and started reading.


    I wished someone like Tourmaline was around to help with this; I wasn¡¯t a real [Alchemist], and this was a terrible crash course.


    Richter¡¯s book was titled <i>Bestiary of Greentree: Common Monsters and Their Compon</i>ents while I was reading <i>Alchemical Ingredients: A Primer</i>.


    The passage he found read:


    ¡°Lily-Leopard: This vicious half-nt beast ismonly found at the edge of inner Greentree. It stalks the area where the internal light of the dungeon has not yet illuminated the forest, and the light from Minnova¡¯s crystal does not quite reach. The <i>Darkwood</i> is often the first hurdle that truly challenges new adventuring parties, and the Lily-Leopard is one of the main culprits.


    Lily-Leopards have a sinuous catlike body with a slightly yellow tint and brown spots and a tapered green ''tail''. Instead of fur, their skin is made of a tuberous material, and their head ends in a lily-like flower that peels back to reveal a maw of teeth that is capable of ripping flesh from bone.


    Lily-Leopards obtain most of their nutrients from blood, but can also plunge their ¡®tails¡¯ into the ground in order to ingest valuable minerals. They often sleep in this form, their buttocks firmly ¡®nted¡¯ and their mouths open, appearing to be no more than amon giant tiger-lily. Adventurers should exercise caution around giant lilies in the Darkwood.


    Lily-Leopards are prized for their livers, which filter the magical energies they absorb, and their teeth, which can be used for certain weapons. Once refined, the liver oil is amon ingredient in some basic potions.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± I gave Richter a fist-bump. ¡°This stuff is used in potions, so go read <i>Basic Potions: A Cookbook.</i>


    While Richter searched the next book I found a section in mine on lily-leopard liver oil. It was a rather boring blurb that simply repeated what we¡¯d found in <i>Bestiary of Greentree</i>.


    ¡°Here, Lily-Leopard Oil.¡± Richter said. ¡°Ah found it. It say dat it¡¯s amon potion ingredient, and lists a few different ones it''s used in. It say: ¡®Da unrefined oil can cause an upset stomac¡¯, but da refined version enhances gut health and stamina. A propa¡¯ catalyst and infusion o¡¯ mana can enhance da stamina recovery aspect to create a basic stamina potion.¡¯¡±


    It reminded me a bit of castor oil. I shuddered at the memory of that foul liquid drawn from the guts of hell itself.


    ¡°Okay, great work. Let¡¯s go back to the brewery and tell everyone.¡±


    We left the alchemy shop and ran back to the brewery as fast as our short little legs could carry us.


    Hopefully Jeremiah would have good news.

 Chapter 76: You Can Lead A Goat to Beer

    <h4>Chapter 76: You Can Lead A Goat to Beer</h4>


    Richter and I arrived at the Brewery to find everyone already preparing to open the pub.


    ¡°Pete!¡± Annie waved me over as I walked through the door to the brew-room. ¡°What did you find?¡±


    ¡°Lily-liver oil seems to be a pretty standard ingredient in potions.¡± I passed her the books we¡¯d bought,plete with strips of paper marking the relevant sections. ¡°But it¡¯s from the dungeon, so I think our water is out as a contamination source.¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°I agree. Balin said the [Alchemist] he went to gave it the all clear too.¡±


    ¡°That leaves Alchemist ck¡¯s bittering agent as the most likely suspect.¡±


    ¡°I agree. I don¡¯t know if we¡¯ll ever be able to prove it though.¡± She said bitterly.


    I looked around, but didn¡¯t see Jeremiah. ¡°Where¡¯s your dad?¡±


    Annie frowned. ¡°He came and went.¡±


    ¡°What did he say?¡±


    ¡°He used [Check Quality] on the tanks and gave me the all clear - the drink isn¡¯t poisonous. He actually found it funny for some reason; startedughing really hard. Then he started crying again and went back to the house to drink.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a bit weird. Maybe he thought it was hrious that your first brew had such a crazy mishap?¡± It sounded dumb even to my ears. Midna''s Mullet, Jeremiah was taking this <i>bad</i>.


    ¡°Who knows. Did you find out anything else?¡±


    ¡°Aye. I went through my [Minimap] filters on the way here, and both ¡®unrefined¡¯ and ¡®refined¡¯ lily-leopard liver oil are avable options. I think that means when I used [Refine Brew] the oil was ¡®refined¡¯ before it was subsumed into the brew.¡± I shrugged. ¡°The refined stuff is actually good for you and counts as a healthy magical ingredient. I may be able to use that in our advertising. We didn''t follow the proper procedures for using it, so I''m not sure what its efficacy will be though. How did the math turn out on your end?¡±


    Annie sighed and massaged her temples. ¡°The pub is bringing in enough that we can afford to lose this batch if necessary, but I still want to try. At least I¡¯m not going to be up all night worrying about it. Just <i>most</i> of the night.¡±


    I considered her haggard appearance. She was distraught, stressed, and losing sleep, and most of it was over a mary problem I had secretly solved. As her future brother-inw, and as a good dwarf, I couldn¡¯t keep ignoring it. There was always a chance that she¡¯d simply toss the brew if she knew money wasn¡¯t really an object, but I was fairly confident she wouldn¡¯t. She was just as curious and hard-headed about brewing as me, and she would want to see this brew to the end. Plus, I needed her approval to move forward with my bottling scheme.


    It was time to tell her how much money we really had. ¡°Speaking of tonight, can I talk to you after closing? It¡¯s really important.¡±


    ¡°Again? I hope you haven¡¯t gotten your next Specialization already. I¡¯d need to shave your beard off in sheer jealousy.¡± She gave a painedugh.


    I crossed my arms protectively over my beautiful bristles. ¡°No, it¡¯s good news.¡±


    ¡°I could use some. Anyone else need to be there?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­ just you and Balin for now. Aqua may ask some questions I¡¯m not ready to answer yet. Speaking of which, where is she?¡±


    ¡°I sent her to go and ask Alchemist ck some leading questions with [Truespeech]. I¡­ really hope this was all an ident, but we need to make sure.¡± She nodded at Richter, who had entered the building behind me. ¡°Richter, could you make some deliveries tonight? A new drinkingpetition is being held at one of the nearby beer gardens and they want some kegs of our beer.¡±


    ¡°Aye miss. That¡¯s excitin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it! Things areing together. Other than -¡± She gestured expansively at the tanks, ¡°all of this.¡±


    ¡°Can I take da princess ta ¡®elp pull tha cart?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Probably for the best, Bran found out she¡¯s been getting into his cold storage, and he threatened to use her for tonight¡¯s braised goat.¡± She passed me a few silvers, her lips a thin line.


    ¡°You¡¯re terrible at betting.¡± I remarked with a grin.


    ¡°Shove it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll shove it right into my wallet.¡± I tossed the silver in my coin-pouch. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, I need to go help Bran. Crisis averted, contamination vector narrowed down, mission aplished.¡±


    While I cut vegetables with a halfway-apoplectic Bran, a certain quest sat ufortably in the back of my mind. We¡¯d narrowed down the [Alchemist] as our most likely source of contamination.


    Except, my quest hadn''t been updated. We probably had to find proof first - but how?


    ¡ª


    A week passed in rtive boredom. There were no other emergencies with the fermentation, and the pub was thriving. We had two small brawls, but those were standard in dwarven establishments. Between Balin and Tania - who was bing a regr while Greentree was still off-limits - any fights were quickly stomped out.


    Aqua gave Alchemist ck the all clear. He either didn¡¯t know there was contamination in our bittering agent, or had a Milestone that could bypass [Truespeech]. Aqua seemed to think a Milestone like that was highly unlikely for an [Alchemist], which left ¡®freak ident¡¯ as our most likely scenario.


    Normally we would have moved on at that point, and counted ourselves lucky that the worst had been avoided. But I had a little quest that said we were off base. I confided it to Annie, and she asked me to keep an eye out, but not to tell the others for now. We¡¯d just be <i>extra</i> careful for the next batch. I left lily-leopard lily oil up on my Minimap just in case. If any came near the brewery I''d know about it.


    I considered making some new advertising posters for Whistlemop¡¯s cart, but decided to wait until we knew the quality of the brew. Even if it was safe to drink it could still turn out awful.


    And then, it was the big day.


    ¡ª


    The crowd in the brew-room was a bit smaller than usual; Tom and Jeremiah were notably absent. John and Johnsson were in attendance, and were talking up a storm with Richter. Johnsson had changed his haircut again, this time he¡¯d frosted the tips and put dozens of fine braids in. It looked good on him.


    There was a fairly obvious undercurrent of nervous expectation. Everyone was worried the brew was going to taste awful, or bepletely undrinkable. We¡¯d know as soon as Penelope took her traditional first drink. If she drank the whole bowl the batch was a sess. If she spurned it, we¡¯d need to throw it all away.


    ¡°Is Mr. Goldstone seriously noting!?¡± I whispered up to Annie, who was standing on the catwalk preparing for her usual speech. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him all week!¡±


    ¡°No! He gave me someme excuses and disappeared.¡± Annie¡¯s face was a bit drawn. It was clear that Jeremiah¡¯s absence was a pretty big emotional blow. I was seething too; regardless of how Jeremiah felt right now he shouldn¡¯t have missed this. It was like skipping his child¡¯s graduation ceremony because he had empty-nest syndrome. I was going to give him a piece of my mindter.


    ¡°Any luck getting in contact with his old fishing buddies?¡±


    ¡°Sort of. I asked Drum and Captain Morris and they agreed to help. Drum was strangely agreeable, and Captain Morris is more than happy to take him fishing.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good. I like Drum, and Captain Morris seemed like a good guy when I met him in the mine. Heck, I may want to go fishing with them!¡± I briefly thought of Wreck¡¯s little barb about strength. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll go to the gym too; I need to increase my strength.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t hurt. All of Bran¡¯s fine cooking is going straight to that paunch.¡±


    ¡°Oof!¡± I doubled over in mock agony.


    Annie waved her hand in a clearing gesture. ¡°Setting aside my father¡¯s <i>issues</i>, is everything ready?¡±


    I rubbed my own hands with glee. Annie had been angry at my deception at first, but eventually agreed it had been a good idea. Especially when I gave her myst bottle to drink; then she¡¯d <i>enthusiastically</i> agreed. With her approval, I¡¯d set Balin to crafting the final piece we needed, and he finished it just in time.


    ¡°Balin did a great job, it works perfectly. We hid it behind the tanks this morning and Whistlemop¡¯s men arrived with the bottles a few minutes ago. They¡¯re waiting out back with Balin.¡±


    ¡°Ok¡­ let¡¯s do this.¡± Annie pped her cheeks then raised her arm. ¡°EVERYONE! I want to thank you foring to the very first racking of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub!¡±


    There was a general cheer. I felt tears welling in my own eyes, a mix of pride and nostalgia. It reminded me a bit of our first batch at Beavermoose Brewery back on Earth. That had been one of the greatest moments in my life, besides my marriage to Caroline and Sammy¡¯s birth. I habitually reached out beside me for a warmth that wasn¡¯t there, and a single tear broke free to trickle down my cheek and wet my beard.


    I looked around at all the happy and excited faces. Aqua was jumping up and down, Johnsson was hooting, John was pping calmly, and Richter was pumping his fist and hollering. I felt something in my heart shift, and a bit of the ever-present ache disappeared. Time would heal these wounds, and I had a lot of that, along with the best new family a dwarf could ever ask for. I raised my arms, and joined in with a ragged cheer.


    Annie waited until the noise died down, then continued. ¡°It¡¯s been a hard couple of years. Between idents, mass quitting, and money troubles, you are the dwarves that stuck with us through thick and thin! As a Goldstone, I want to thank you for your hard work and dedication.¡± She gave a close fisted salute at chest height. Everyone repeated the gesture back, and I copied it a beat behind.


    ¡°This marks a new page in the history of the Thirsty Goat. All of you are aware of the incidentst week, and are probably just as anxious as I am to see Penelope¡¯s reaction. Before that though, I want Pete toe up and tell everyone the exciting news!¡±


    I walked up the catwalk to curious murmuring. We were close knit enough that everyone had a pretty good idea of what this was about. However, very few of them had the full picture. It was time to present that picture in 4k.


    ¡°Hi, Pete here with some awesome news! As many of you know, I¡¯ve been working on a method to improve the carbonation of our beer using bottle conditioning. Some of you even tasted it already, and went to <i>great lengths</i> to tell me how good it was.¡± I pointedly glowered at Aqua, who blinked back in mock innocence. I raised my voice to a shout. ¡°So here¡¯s the news! Bring them in, Balin!¡± The doors to the back alley burst open as Balin pushed in a cart piled high with wooden boxes. Each box was just big enough to contain sixteen bottles, and was stamped with the Whistlemop logo. A string of carts stretched behind him in the alley.


    ¡°I¡¯m proud to announce our partnership with Whistlemop¡¯s Fineries as we release Crack¡¯s first bottled brew!¡±


    There was stunned silence. Then the shouting started.


    ¡ª


    The shouting eventually turned into a Q&A session. Aqua was first, and wanted to know how we were going to afford it. I told her how much money we had at our disposal and she kicked me in the shins then blubbered for a bit.


    Johnsson wanted to know if the bottles were going to be sold as collectibles like the Whistlemugs. It was a great question, and one I¡¯d spent a lot of time considering. I had an answer at the ready.


    ¡°No, I actually want people to return these. The n is to sell them at an inted price with a small refund for people that bring back the bottle. That way we can re-use them and not waste the ss. These are actually a bit of a stop-gap measure until we can get pressure kegs and fermenters up and running.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t we ¡®limited edition¡¯ this first run though?¡± John asked, putting his hand up. ¡°It worked really well for Whistlemop. Everyone¡¯s still talkin¡¯ about it.¡±


    I looked at Annie, who shrugged. ¡°Why not. It¡¯s a bitte to etch each of them, though.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± I said. ¡°We just need a tube of paper, some sticky-sap, and a starving artist. What do we call it though? ''The new brew¡¯ is a bit on the nose.¡±


    ¡°Ah ¡®tink y¡¯all are gettin¡¯ ahead o¡¯ yerselves.¡± Richter interrupted. ¡°We don¡¯t know if da brew is tasty.¡± He pointed down at Penelope, who was growing increasingly irritated at being forced to wait. She pawed at her fancy goat-bowl and red at us.


    ¡°Meeeeeeeehhh!!!¡± [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Where is my libation, peasants!? I¡¯ve been waiting for <i>minutes! MINUTES!</i>¡±


    Ah yes. The moment of truth.


    Annie opened the tap of the first tank, and the beer fountained into Penelope¡¯s dish. It had the same colour as usual, but was crystal clear with a creamy finish. The usual mishmash of cloudy proteins and leftover trub was nowhere to be seen. The hopback had done its job <i>perfectly.</i> Everyone *ooooh*¡¯d at the sight.


    Then Annie ced the dish in front of Penelope, who stepped forward and sniffed it. She took a hesitant lick and swished it around in her mouth. We all leaned in, our breaths caught in our throats and our eyes wide. If she spat it out, the batch would be considered a failure. But if she drank it -


    She shoved her muzzle into the amber liquid and greedily chugged the rest of the bowl.


    The room erupted into cheers and celebration. We pped, hugged, and jumped for joy in the sheer relief of the moment.


    Unnoticed amongst the shouting, there was a low bass *rumble*.

 Chapter 77: Get Ready to Rumble

    <h4>Chapter 77: Get Ready to Rumble</h4>


    What followed was a lot of back pping and congrattions.


    ¡°Pete! It worked!¡± Annie ran up and pulled me into a hug. We were soon joined by Balin, then Aqua, then everyone else.


    ¡°We did it!¡±


    ¡°Huzzah!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions!¡±


    ¡°Did anyone else hear that sound?¡±


    ¡°It looks amazin¡¯, I can¡¯t wait to try it!¡±


    *Meeeeeeh!!!!* *Burp*


    We broke apart and considered Penelope, who had finished the bowl and was pushing it towards us with a stamping foot.


    ¡°Do ya want more, princess?¡± Richter chuckled. ¡°Yer a greedy goat, aintcha?¡±


    ¡°We have to give her <i>thirteen</i> more, technically.¡± Annie said, looking around at all the tanks.


    Aqua put her hand up, unnoticed, "Excuse me?"


    ¡°Can I have some first?¡± Johnsson pleaded. ¡°I never got to try any of the bottled beer, and Aqua and Richter keep teasin¡¯ me about it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s technically not done yet. It needs to be bottle conditioned.¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°EXCUSE ME!¡± Aqua shouted, capturing everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Yes, Aqua?¡± Annie asked, sweetly.


    ¡°Did nobody else hear that?¡±


    We all tipped our ears attentively.


    That was when it happened.


    *BRAP*


    Every head turned to regard Penelope, whose beady eyes slowly crossed in consternation.


    *Meeeeeeh???* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Surely that wasn¡¯t my most elegant self???¡±


    !!BRAAAAAAAPPP!!


    Penelope let out a fart so massive that it actually shook her tail. She jumped nearly a meter into the air and bucked behind her. She waved her single horn wildly, as though attacking some unseen enemy.


    *MEEEEEHHH!?!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Treachery! Mine own royal body betrays me!?!¡±


    We all stared in shock as Penelope let loose a few more musical *toots* from her behind. She furiously pranced from foot to foot with each eruption.


    ¡°Penelope?¡± Aqua said with trepidation. ¡°Are you ok?¡±


    *MEHEHEHHEEE!!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°What foul magic is this!? Have at thee, ckguards!!!¡±


    She then began angrily butting her head against Balin¡¯s shins. He summoned his golden armour, and his legs rang like a bell after every strike.


    ¡°What- what was that?¡± John asked.


    ¡°Penelope farted?¡± I said, questioningly. John rolled his eyes.


    ¡°Is tha princess well?¡± Richter said with concern.


    Annie bent over the goat to examine her, but besides the initial shock, Penelope seemed fine. After a short while she calmed down, went back to her bowl, and began pawing at it.


    *Meeeeehhh!!!! Meeheehee!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Please excuse my impropriety. I apologize and let nobody speak of it ever again. Now fill my bowl, peasants!¡±


    "Are we¡­ letting her drink from the next tank?" Annie asked, uncertainly.


    "Jeremiah checked it. He said this stuff is safe to drink. Maybe she just had indigestion?¡± I said. Everyone nodded, but nobody looked convinced.


    Annie brought Penelope¡¯s bowl to the next tank and poured from the spigot. She ced it on the floor and Penelope immediately buried her nose in the bowl, greedily chugging it down. When it was empty, she raised her head and licked at her lips before pushing her dish to the next tank. She stood next to the spigot and waited expectantly.


    We all regarded her for a minute.


    Then there was a *rumble*.


    *Meeh?* *Burp*


    !!BRAAP!!


    Penelope went ballistic, kicking and bucking and running around the room. Her voice went up an octave until she was angry-screaming. Every once in a while she¡¯d smash into Balin¡¯s shins, just for good measure.


    ¡°Okaaay?¡± I deferred to Annie. ¡°You¡¯re in charge.¡±


    ¡°Great, thanks.¡± She grimaced. ¡°What do you think is happening?¡±


    I used [sh of Insight] to help jog my memory. ¡°The unrefined liver oil is supposed to cause indigestion, and when it¡¯s refined it promotes gut health and stamina recovery.¡± I thought back to certain medicines on Earth. ¡°Since we didn''t prepare it properly, maybe it¡¯s acting like a fast acting probiotic, or a gas-relief agent?¡±


    !!BRAAAAAP!!


    *MMMMMMMMAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!*


    *GONG* ¡°Och, that one actually ''urt!¡±


    I did my level best to ignore the chaos and concentrate on the problem at hand. A difficult proposition when a crazed caprid is trying to put their horn through your brother¡¯s kneecaps. ¡°A digestive of some kind seems the most likely, but I don¡¯t know magic.¡± I looked at Richter.


    He shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. I¡¯ve not studied anytin¡¯ like dis.¡± His eyes shimmered for a moment. ¡°But I can say dat tha¡¯ beer ain''t magic anymore.¡±


    ¡°I guess an idental ¡®potion¡¯ beer was too much to ask,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Maybe it has health benefits?¡±


    Aqua and Balin eventually managed to soothe Penelope with some gentle pats and she went to shiver angrily beside her bowl. Either she hadn¡¯t realized the beer was causing her outbursts, or she was just a greedy guts. Maybe both.


    ¡°Do we keep letting her drink?¡± I asked.


    Annie shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think that would be fair to her. Let¡¯s see about - ¡±


    *Rumble*


    We all turned to look back at the first tank. Johnsson was standing next to it with a mug in his hand. He only looked <i>slightly</i> guilty.


    ¡°What? *Burp* I wanted to try it too. It¡¯s delicious! Tastes just like tha True Brew, but it¡¯s smoother and feels more lively on me tongue! It¡¯s tha best beer I¡¯ve ever drunk and it makes me feel all warm''n fuzzy! And Pete, you said it isn¡¯t even - ¡±


    !!BRAAP!!


    ¡°Och!¡± He held his stomach. ¡°By Aaron¡¯s Arse, that¡¯s an odd feelin.¡±


    !!BRAAA-AAA-A-APPP!!


    We all stared at Johnsson as his butt let loose an entire musical number,plete with dance routine. He dropped his mug and grabbed one cheek in each hand, his face turning bright red.


    "HA!"


    Everyone but Johnsson (who was busy) turned to look at John, who had begun bellyughing so hard he was crying.


    "HA HA HA! You should see yer face, son! You look more confused than Penelope did! HAW HAW HAW!!"


    Aqua tittered next. Then Balin began to guffaw. Then the entire grumble fell overughing.


    ¡ª


    We all took a turn at drinking the brew and ripping one out, even John. Aqua practically rattled the walls on her turn, and she fled the brewery in shrieking shame. The beer seemed to grant a slight stamina boost, which caused a bit of belly rumbling and a burp followed by one or two <i>massive </i>toots. There were no discernable side effects, and we didn¡¯t get any [Conditions] from drinking it. That meant it was safe to drink.


    Annie still decided to wait a bit before we bottled it. She wanted to talk to her dad and take some time to consider our options.


    In the meantime, we had a pub to run. The world wouldn¡¯t wait while our boss contemted the ethics of beer that could cut cheese. The regrs arrived first, headed by Tania and Beatbox. No Rumbob tonight. Prophet Barnes even made an appearance; now there was a dwarf that <i>loved</i> his goatherd pie.


    I looked up from my musings to wee the next set of guests. My nose itched slightly as it was assaulted by the smell of onions and I resisted the urge to sneeze. I was <i>not</i> made to be a waiter, and Aqua and I were desperate for Annie to hire someone to do this full time. In the meantime, we switched back and forth over the course of the evening.


    ¡°Hello, wee to the Thirsty Goat Brew-¡±


    I petered off as I recognized the party that had entered the pub. It was Master Brewer Browning and his posse. I gritted my teeth and prepared for the worst. These guys were grade A assholes, and if they were visiting a ce they¡¯d deemed disgraceful, they were only here for one reason - to make trouble.


    I immediately turned management mode on to one-hundred percent.


    ¡°Master Brewer Browning, how wonderful to see you! Wee to our humble brewpub! We¡¯re so happy you could take time out of your busy schedule toe and see us!¡± I sketched a humble bow.


    Browning looked me up and down, his eyes practically screaming contempt.


    *Hmph* ¡°We were made aware of your so-called Grand Opening by some of our apprentices. It would have been customary for you to invite the Honourable Guild of Brewers to a tasting on your first night. Not,¡± he sneered, ¡°that I would have expected an outsider like <i>you </i>to understand that. I did expect <i>better </i>from Annie Goldstone, though.¡±


    My eyebrow twitched, but I kept my tone level. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m <i>so </i>sorry. I don¡¯t know how we could have missed sending out your invitations! It¡¯s just been so busy around here with the renovations. Please, let me take you to your seats, and the first round will be on us as an apology.¡±


    An elderly dwarf behind Browning grunted. ¡°He¡¯s got a tongue sweeter than yer wife¡¯s tarts, Browning. Take me to my seatd, my legs aren¡¯t gettin¡¯ any younger.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Master Brewer¡­?¡±


    ¡°Malt.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Master Brewer Malt. If you¡¯d pleasee this way.¡± I gestured towards a table in the back. Master Browning stepped in front of me and walked towards it while I led the rest of the group.


    ¡°Our special today is a zed rack of goat with roasted rosemary-erdroot and sauteed carrots.¡±


    ¡°Tiara¡¯s Teats that sounds delicious!¡± Malt said, his eyes glittering. ¡°Who''s yer chef, and how much do you want for ¡®em?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid Bran isn¡¯t for sale, sir. But you¡¯re wee toe and eat at the pub as often as you please! We have a new special every week, and they¡¯re all unique to our restaurant.¡± I liked this guy. He was one of those old people that reached a certain age and decided ''I¡¯ve lived a long life, so watch out, I¡¯min¡¯ through y¡¯all!'' People like that were always a delight, except on the highway and in public change-rooms.


    ¡°Stop fraternising and take a seat, Malt.¡± Browning harrumphed.


    Malt shrugged apologetically at me and sat down beside Browning. The rest of the grumble were a twin pair of ginger dwarves with ducktail-beards, a fairly stunning green haired dwarfess in heavy makeup, and a distinguished dwarf with grey mutton-chops. They were all dressed in the same severe ck armour.


    I passed each of them a menu in turn, and was rewarded with abination of angry glowers and stark silence.


    ¡°Can I get everyone a beer?¡± I asked sweetly.


    ¡°Yes. How <i>is</i> the beer?¡± Browning asked, with an odd inflection.


    ¡°It¡¯s Thirsty Goat¡¯s finest True Brew.¡± I replied.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be the judge of <i>that</i>. I¡¯d heard that you children were <i>experimenting</i> with new brewing techniques.¡± Browning said, with a tone that sent shivers down my spine and set off rm bells. ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel that any such attempt would summon the wrath of the ancestors. Especially given the unfortunate events that transpired here the <ist</i><i>time.</i>¡±


    What in tha Nether was this? Was this guy ying silly buggers or what? I put a nk smile on my face and began to formte an answer when I noticed it.


    A tiny purple dot sat on my minimap. A single, solitary icon that indicated the presence of unrefined lily-leopard liver oil. Right on top of Master Brewer Browning.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>The Malted Mystery</strong>


    <i>Culprits Found: 1 / 2</i>


    Sonnuvanannygoat.


    That-SON-OF-A-NETHER-SPAWNED-BILLY-GOAT-BRED-CHUCKLEHEADED-SCUM-SUCKING-SCIVEY-SAMSQUANCH!


    ¡ª


    I burst into Annie¡¯s office.


    ¡°What -¡± She began.


    ¡°It was BROWNING!¡±


    ¡°Ugh, is that jerk here? What does he want?¡±


    ¡°He <i>wants</i> to screw us over! Just like he already did!¡±


    ¡°What? Pete you aren¡¯t - ¡°


    ¡°HE¡¯S CARRYING LILY-LEOPARD LIVER OIL!¡± I shouted, my body vibrating with rage.


    ¡°What?¡± Annie asked again, her brows drawing together.


    ¡°He¡¯s carrying lily-leopard liver oil, and my quest to find the source of our contamination ticked up when I saw it. It wasn¡¯t an ident, it was <i>sabotage</i>. That absolute <i>bastard</i> of a brewer spiked our brew!¡±


    Annie''s face went from shock, to bewilderment, through anger, and ended up on rage. ¡°How dare he. <i>How DARE he!</i> How dare he contaminate the Sacred Brew! He calls himself a brewer!?¡± She stood up to storm out of the room and I grabbed her by the shoulders.


    ¡°No! We can¡¯t. As much as I want to slug him in the face we have no proof, and he¡¯s got way too much clout for us to use him.¡±


    ¡°City Hall - ¡°


    ¡°I know! I know the Ordinances Annie. But this isn¡¯t aboutws, it¡¯s about tradition and image and respect. If we go out there and use him of sabotage it will <i>destroy</i> the Thirsty Goat. We¡¯re too vulnerable!¡±


    ¡°But- but -¡± Annie sputtered, then sat down in her chair with a *whomf*. ¡°ugh, you¡¯re right.¡±


    We sat in angry silence for a moment, each of us flexing our hands as we wrung an imaginary neck.


    ¡°I¡¯m not an expert in dwarven society, Annie. What can we do in this situation?¡± I asked, haltingly. ¡°He¡¯s the guild-master for the brewers guild! Can you even sell beer if he decides to cklist you? As far as I can recall, the ordinances barely even mention guilds.¡±


    Annie drummed her fingers on the table. ¡°We can, but it would be an uphill battle. None of the local restaurants would carry our beer out of fear of retaliation, and our name would be mud with the grocers. The cost to buy erdroot would go through the roof and it would be hard to make big sales.¡±


    ¡°So it would be possible.¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°Just expensive.¡±


    I made a fist. ¡°Except <i>we</i> have an alternate revenue stream that they can¡¯t touch with Whistlemop. Anything else?¡±


    Annie thought for a while longer. ¡°Usually, dwarven families and businesses deal with events like this with a Feud. The party that deres the Feud sets the terms, and the challenged party deres the form of Contest. It can be anything frombat in the arena, to a craftingpetition, to a foot race.¡±


    I scratched my cheek. ¡°That¡¯s a strange tradition.¡±


    Annie shook her head. ¡°Dwarven Feuds used tost generations and would involve the ughter of entire ns. The Ordinances set strict rules on them to keep our society from fracturing every time some curmudgeon took offence.¡± Then she sighed. ¡°But you¡¯re right, we¡¯re too weak right now, so if we dere a Feud we¡¯d just be crushed. Feuds favour the challenged party by design.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ but only if <i>we </i>dere one. If <i>he </i>deres it, we have a chance at winning.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re thinking Pete, but even <i>if</i> you can get Browning to dere a Feud, I¡¯m not sure we have any way to beat an entire guild.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I think we do.¡± I leaned in with a feral grin and exined my n. Annie¡¯s eyes widened and then her smile grew to match my own.

 Chapter 78: The Feud

    <h4>Chapter 78: The Feud</h4>


    ¡°Do you want to do the talking, Annie?¡± I asked, as I adjusted the carry tter. The moment would be ruined if I spilled the drinks.


    ¡°Yes. You cane across as insincere. Sorry Pete.¡± Annie shifted from foot to foot, pumping herself up.


    ¡°No, no. I absolutely <i>am</i> insincere when ites to crap like this. It¡¯s a habit from dealing with a world where the customer is always right.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Is Balin ready?¡±


    ¡°He and Tania both gave me the signal a moment ago.¡± Aqua called from the door to the kitchen.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± Annie moved forward and I followed behind her, carrying the drinks.


    There was no fanfare, nothing that would mark the next events as out of the ordinary. This was simply the owner walking over to greet some distinguished guests.


    ¡°Master Brewer Browning!¡± Annie said, making a small bow. ¡°You made it!¡±


    Malt waved. ¡°¡®Allo little Goldstone!¡± Annie gave him a strained smile.


    Browning looked up from his menu. ¡°Annie Goldstone. I see that you¡¯ve made a lot of changes in the scant few weeks that you¡¯ve been in charge.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I -¡± Annie began.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame that so much of it is a slight against your ancestors.¡± Browning interrupted. ¡°Do you really think all those Goldstones hanging in your foyer would be proud of the circus you¡¯ve turned this brewery into?¡±


    Annie grunted, but continued to smile. ¡°I think my ancestors would be proud that we¡¯ve made the brewery a ce where dwarves cane and partake in our heritage. We actually took some pointers from Master Drum, one of the <i>senior members</i> of the Guild. I wasn¡¯t aware that brewpubs were frowned upon.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not.¡± Malt butted in. ¡°Browning¡¯s just wound up tighter than Lunara¡¯s Lace ¡®cause he¡¯s never eaten half the things on this menu. He¡¯s just jealous.¡±


    Browning red at Malt. ¡°I was <i>saying</i> that a little more decorum could be in order. I noticed those <i>pro-drinkers</i> seem to have their own booth!¡± He pointed to where Beatbox and Tania were signing autographs. Tania looked up at the motion and fixed Browning with a steely re. He wilted immediately, then turned back on Annie.


    ¡°Your¡­ <ibourer</i> promised my table a round of drinks - on the house - to apologize for yourck of etiquette.¡± He said with a derogatory emphasis on bourer¡¯. Jerkwad. ¡°In case you were not aware, it is customary to invite the Honourable Guild of Brewers to the opening of a new brewery.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Master Brewer Browning.¡± Annie replied with false innocence. ¡°However, we weren¡¯t opening a new brewery, simply <i>re-opening </i>after a renovation. If I¡¯d been aware that you wanted an invitation I would have been happy to extend one. Unfortunately, the Guild has not beenmunicating with us recently. Either way, I am happy to make good on <i>Brewer </i>Pete¡¯s offer. He received his Specialization earlier this week.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s got you there, Browning.¡± Malt interjected. "Congrattions,d!"


    ¡°Not now, Malt!¡± Browning ground out.


    ¡°Aw - go suck on Solen¡¯s Socks Browning and get off yer goat. Are those our drinks? Bring them here!¡±


    I swept in and deposited a mug in front of each of the brewers. The twins barely gave me a second nce, same with the green-bearded beauty. At least the gentledwarf with the mutton-chops gave me an acknowledging nod. I passed thest mug to Annie and she raised it in a toast.


    ¡°To the future of Beer in Minnova! Long may our brews prosper. FOR THE ANCESTORS.¡±


    The six dwarves each raised their mugs and echoed. ¡°FOR THE ANCESTORS.¡± Malt paused and sniffed the air, seemingly confused for a moment. Then everyone brought their mugs back and chugged.


    As one, five dwarves spat their beer across the table, instantly showering the party with sticky brown fluid. All except Annie, who finished her sip with a stately gesture, and Malt, who swished his with interest.


    ¡°This! This! -¡± Browning sputtered. His lips puckered, and his eyes dted until they were nearly all white. The other brewers cried out in distress or rage. One of the twins actually fainted in his chair. The dwarfess shrieked so loud my ears rang for a moment. All around us in the pub, activity ceased as everyone turned to see what had happened. There was a hush in the rest of the room, like the calm before a storm.


    ¡°Do you like it?¡± Annie asked in the silence. ¡°It¡¯s the newest product that we¡¯re considering releasing. We call it ¡®radler¡¯. Isn¡¯t it <i>scrumptious</i>?¡±


    ¡°LIKE IT!?¡± Browning jumped to his feet. ¡°This is an affront to beer! An abomination from the deepest pits of theher! Your ancestors would be ashamed of you!¡± He mmed his fist down on the table and one of the mugs tipped over, spilling lemon-fresh beer all over the table. It spread in all directions and began to drip onto the ground. Mutton-chops pushed away from the dribbling liquid as though it would bite, or infect him with radical new ideas.


    ¡°Ashamed of ME?¡± Annie mmed her own mug down on the table, spraying radler all over the fainted brewer. He woke up, cried out in horror, then passed out again. ¡°I pour everything into my brewing! It is what I love and what I am. <i>Everything </i>I do is to the betterment of my brew and my craft. Can you truly say the same? Or are you <i>lily-livered,</i> Master Brewer?¡±


    The assembled brewers paled slightly at Annie¡¯s words. Browning went white, then purple.


    ¡°HOW DARE YOU!¡± Spittle and flecks of radler flew from his beard. ¡°I am the Guild Master of the Honourable Guild of Brewers! You will treat me with the RESPECT owed to a Greybeard!¡±


    ¡°A Greybeard?¡± Annie scoffed. ¡°The only grey in your beard is from fear. From quaking in your boots at the thought of a future where beer is more than an institution. From the idea that <i>any dwarf </i>could improve on the glorious <i>dwarven </i>tradition of brewing!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll - I¡¯ll throw you out of the Guild of Brewers! Your ancestors would be spinning in their graves! Where is your<i></i>father? Does <i>he</i> know what his horrible spawn is doing to the Goldstone legacy?¡±


    Annie¡¯s face turned a shade of puce. ¡°You leave my <i>father</i> out of it! I¡¯ve been wondering what was wrong with him, and now I think I know. If I had to deal with a bunch of mudslime like you all the time, I¡¯d be falling apart too! You want to throw us out of the Guild? Who cares! We¡¯ll continue selling whatever we want! Our radler will be in every restaurant in Minnova within the year!¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t let you!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s. Nothing. You. Can. Do. About. It.¡± Annie grated out each syble with gritted teeth. She and Browning were practically standing nose to nose. Beside them Malt had shrunk back cradling his radler. He took a small sip and nodded appreciatively.


    ¡°Browning, maybe we should - ¡°


    ¡°A FEUD!¡± Browning roared, and the entire pub jumped. ¡°I DECLARE A FEUD! THE HONOURABLE GUILD OF BREWERS CALLS OUT THE GOLDSTONE CLAN!¡±


    Annie looked ready to pop him in the nose, so I decided that was my time to step in. Losing her cool was <i>not</i> part of the n. Besides, her part was technically done. She managed to step back but continued to re daggers at Browning.


    ¡°You dered a Feud. What are the terms?¡± I said smoothly.


    ¡°You! You are the instrument of all this!¡± Browning rounded on me, and Balin moved forward. Tania grabbed him by the cor of his golden armor and held him back. She shook her head ¡®no, not yet¡¯.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll find that I am merely the instrument of a greater power.¡± I puffed out my chest with a bravado I barely felt. Over by the kitchen, Aqua choked.


    Browning barked augh. ¡°The Nether? I can believe it.¡±


    ¡°You dered a feud, <i>Brewer</i>.¡± I left off the ¡®master¡¯ and added an insulting inflection. A vein in Browning¡¯s forehead practically burst. ¡°Annie Goldstone has given me full authority to speak on her behalf. What. are. your. terms?


    ¡°You! You will never be allowed to brew in Minnova ever again. You will cease any more <i>desecration</i> of our Sacred Brew. In fact, I extend that to the entire Goldstone n! Those are our Terms!¡± There was an audible *gasp* around the pub. A few dwarves stood up menacingly, but Balin and Tania moved to keep everyone in their seats.


    I gave a savage grin. So far everything was going to n. ¡°Do you speak for the entire Guild of Brewers, or the Browning Brewery?¡±


    ¡°I speak for ALL Brewers when I dere you an affront to our most dearly held traditions!¡± Browning snapped. The twins and the dwarfess nodded with savage satisfaction, though mutton chops looked a little unsure. Malt jumped up with a look of horror.


    ¡°Now hold on a minute, Browning! If we lost, the entire Guild would be unable to brew!!¡±


    ¡°AM I NOT THE MASTER OF THIS GUILD, MALT!?¡± Browning rounded on the elderly Dwarf, shoving him down into his seat. ¡°These upstarts are a threat to the very institution of brewing! I hold you to your OATH, to protect brewing in Minnova!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve beenyin¡¯ a bit hard on that Oath, Browning.¡± Malt snapped. ¡°This isn¡¯t what it¡¯s for!¡±


    ¡°If you have a problem with it, then vote me out.¡± Browning hissed. ¡°But I suspect that the majority of the Guild will agree with me.¡± Malt¡¯s expression grew dark and cloudy, but he sat quietly back in his seat. For a few seconds the only sound in the pub was the *drip* *drip* of spilled radler. Everyone in the pub waited to hear our answer.


    ¡°By the Ordinances, Chapter 1, Section 4, Subsection 21, the Goldstone n epts your Feud. By our own grace, we offer the Honourable Guild of Brewers clemency. Should we win, the Terms will only apply to the Browning Brewery.¡± My voice sat heavy in the silence. This step was important, because it set the Browning n as our real enemy. It would help us look good in the eyes of the dwarven poption, who might otherwise be furious at the possibility of losing the entire Guild of Brewers. Browning tsk¡¯ed, but Malt¡¯s face rxed with relief.


    ¡°As if you have a chance. As the Terms are epted, you may dere the Contest.¡± Browning crossed his arms in impatience.


    ¡°The Contest will take ce in the field of brewing!¡± I pronounced with gusto.


    The brewersughed, their mocking jeers echoing in the pub. Even Malt looked amused. Browning was practically beside himself with mirth.


    ¡°Ha! You think that you canpete with the entire Honourable Guild of Brewers in <i>brewing</i>!? Annie Goldstone, does this fool truly speak for you?¡±


    ¡°Here is our challenge!¡± I pitched my voice to carry in the entire room. ¡°The decamillenial fast approaches! Now is the time to reinvigorate our traditions! To celebrate the meeting of the new and the old! To spread the word of The Brew! For our Challenge, we will make Minnova talk about beer!¡±


    That shut them up. The brewers looked at each other in confusion, and there was a low murmur in the rest of the pub. ¡°Talk about beer?¡± Malt asked.


    ¡°Yes. In two weeks the Goldstone n and the Honourable Guild of Brewers will each release a beer that they think the dwarves of Minnova will appreciate. Sixteen dayster, the beer that is the most talked about by the popce will be the winner!¡±


    ¡°What, do you think that your radler will be capable of sparking anything other than horrified whispers?¡± Browning said with a barkingugh. ¡°At least your Contest is one worthy of the True Brew! We ept! But-¡± Browning frowned, ¡°how do you n to judge it?¡±


    It was still going ording to n. Browning was such a pompous ass he never even considered the danger hidden in that Contest. I hid glee in my heart and began, ¡°We¡¯ll start with a random sample of dwarves -¡±


    ¡°I think I can be of help.¡± A voice interrupted from behind me.


    The crowd parted to reveal Prophet Barnes. I¡¯dpletely forgotten he was here! Argh, this was no longer going to n! The elderly dwarf padded forward and everyone made the usual holy sign.


    ¡°Prophet Barnes.¡± Browning said respectfully. ¡°Are you here to judge these forsaken souls in Barck¡¯s name?¡±


    ¡°You presume much, Master Brewer Browning, to use Barck¡¯s name. Shut yer trap.¡± The Prophet snapped. ¡°Only one of us speaks for the Gods here, and it certainly isn¡¯t you!¡±


    Browning shrunk back, and bowed in obeisance.


    ¡°Now,¡± Barnes continued. ¡°This Feud has a wide enough impact that it interests the Gods.¡±


    There was a gasp around the room, and even Annie looked horrified. Knowing Barnes and the Gods in question I¡­ withheld judgment. Seven of those Gods weren¡¯t really on my side after all.


    Barnes waited a moment to build suspense and then dropped a bomb. ¡°Midna, Goddess of Communication Herself, will provide the result of this Feud.¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong>The Feud</strong>


    You have been challenged to a Feud that will decide the course of Brewing in Crack forever! Will you win? Midna will be the judge of that! Don¡¯t you <i>dare </i>lose.


    Feuds Won: 0/1


    Reward: +0.2 Cha, [Blessed] condition


    Do you ept?


    Yes/No


    After a moment of stunned silence, the pub rocked on its foundations.

 Chapter 79: Rack ’em and Stack ’em

    <h4>Chapter 79: Rack ''em and Stack ''em</h4>


    ¡°Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.¡±


    ¡°Lever goes there, Balin.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± *nk*


    ¡°Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.¡±


    ¡°Is the spigot in ce, Richter?¡±


    *meeeeeh!!!*


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Let it go, Balin!¡±


    *CRUNCH*


    ¡°Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.¡±


    ¡°Was it supposed to make that sound?!¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ let me check.¡±


    ¡°Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.¡±


    ¡°Aqua!¡± I grabbed the pacing dwarfess as she walked past me and shook her shoulders. "It¡¯ll be fine! Calm down!¡±


    ¡°Calm down!?¡± Aqua was nearly in tears. ¡°How am I supposed to calm down?! We started a Feud with the entire Brewer¡¯s Guildst night! The GODS THEMSELVES are judging it, and the whole city is going to have their eyes on us! Do you know how many Feuds the Gods have judged in the history of Minnova!?¡±


    ¡°Erm, no. I¡¯m surprised the number is higher than one, actually. How many?¡±


    ¡°A couple hundred.¡± Richter grunted, as he tightened a rope.


    I looked at him in surprise. ¡°What, really?¡±


    ¡°We ¡®ave a long history, and tha Gods are nosy.¡± Richter chuckled.


    I patted Aqua on the shoulder. ¡°See? It isn¡¯t even that umon.¡±


    She rounded on Annie. ¡°Arrgh! Annie! I can¡¯t believe you agreed to this! Even if those rat bastards poisoned our brew!¡±


    Annie sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve exined this to you Aqua. They didn¡¯t <i>poison</i> it, they <i>contaminated </i>it.¡±


    ¡°Same difference! How can you beat the <i>entire </i>Brewer¡¯s Guild? We¡¯re barely a tenth their size!¡±


    ¡°Size doesn¡¯t matter, Aqua.¡± I muttered slyly. She looked me in the eye and stomped on my foot. ¡°Ow!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, Aqua.¡± Annie came down and held her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°We have a really good chance. The Brewers actually have an uphill battle! Do you want to exin, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Yep. The trick is that the Contest is ¡®who can make the most dwarves talk about their beer¡¯. It isn¡¯t ¡®who sells the most¡¯ or ¡®who makes the best¡¯, just ¡®who gets the most talking¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Aqua stood still and thought for a moment. ¡°OOOHHH!!!!¡±


    ¡°Right? They think we¡¯re going to try and do it with the radler. But that stuff is so radioactive it¡¯d be dead in the water. It''s too different, which means a significant swath of the poption would ignore itpletely. Especially if news about Midna¡¯s involvement spreads.¡±


    ¡°Radler would be a terrible idea.¡± Annie agreed.


    ¡°But Browning doesn''t know -'''' I gestured around the fourteen full tanks, ¡°about this.¡±


    Johnughed. ¡°This stuff will certainly get Minnova talking.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think so? Won¡¯t people still think it¡¯s too different?¡± Aqua whined.


    John made a ¡®perish the thought¡¯ gesture. ¡°It tastes just like True Brew, it¡¯s just¡­ different. You and Richter drank thepleted product Aqua, how was it?¡±


    ¡°Amazin¡¯¡± Richter said. ¡°Best beer I¡¯ve eva had. Tha fizz, da vour, da colour. I can¡¯t put it inta words, John. Dis lot¡¯s a pale imitation right now. Wait and see what it¡¯s like after tha¡¯ bottle conditionin¡¯!¡±


    Aqua nodded reluctantly. ¡°It really was good. I can¡¯t wait to try it with this cleaner, clearer, batch.¡±


    ¡°Aw, thanks guys.¡± I sped my hands over my heart. ¡°That means a lot to me!¡±


    ¡°Yer wee Pete. But if we lose tha¡¯ brewery ova this, I¡¯m gonna make you pay.¡± He flexed his biceps in a fake threat. At least, I hoped it was fake.


    ¡°Ooookay. I guess I feel a bit better.¡± Aqua huffed. ¡°What is this thing you¡¯re setting up?¡±


    ¡°That depends on if it just broke. How is it Balin!?¡±


    ¡°All good! Just a crack in one of the smaller pipes. I¡¯ve blocked it off, but we won¡¯t be able to use it.¡±


    ¡°Just one?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± I pointed to the long bamboo pipe with a series of small wooden spokes that Richter and Balin had attached to the spigot on tank number one. ¡°I present to you the amazing, incredible, ¡®Udderly Fantastic Bottle Stick¡¯!¡±


    Everyone gave me a nk look. ¡°The what!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a giant udder! See?¡± I made a grand gesture.


    There was some ufortable silence.


    *meeeeeeeeeh.* [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°Pervert.¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°It¡¯s not a <i>bad</i> name, Pete.¡± Balin patted my shoulder. ¡°Just a bit odd.¡±


    ¡°The name is <i>fine.</i>¡± Johnsson said. ¡°I don¡¯t see what¡¯s wrong with it.¡±


    ¡°See? Johnsson thinks it¡¯s okay!¡± I whined. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with udders! They¡¯re perfectly natural. The name even kinda rhymes!¡±


    ¡°Ehh, my boy may not be tha best judge of that, Pete.¡± John remarked. ¡°Some dwarves can get weird around udders.¡±


    ¡°Dad!¡± Johnsson cried indignantly. ¡°Your own flesh and blood!¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Annie shouted from her perch on-top the catwalk. ¡°We have an immense amount of work to do today, and I don¡¯t want to waste any more time. Pete, show everyone how your -¡± She put a hand over her face, ¡°no, never mind, I can¡¯t do this. Balin! Give me a name!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an industrial bottle stick.¡± Balin shrugged. ¡°Made it out o¡¯ bamboo and corks.¡±


    ¡°Perfect! Pete, can you show everyone how to use your <i>industrial bottle stick</i>?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± I grumped, and walked up to the contraption. It consisted of a thick five-meter long bamboo pipe running parallel to the ground. Ten smaller pipes, each <i>just</i> wide enough to fit inside a bottle, hung off the bottom. At the end of each small pipe was a cork with a stick poking out of it. The main pipe was attached to the spigot at the bottom of the fermentation tank and was supported by some wooden sawhorses.


    ¡°This is a bottle stick. It¡¯s really easy to use, but this job is still goin¡¯ to take a long time.¡± I pointed at the boxes of bottles lining the walls. ¡°Those are going to all need filling, and it¡¯ll take a couple thousand bottles to empty a single tank.¡±


    ¡°Ugh!¡± Johnsson shouted in shock. ¡°We can¡¯t use the kegs!?¡±


    ¡°Not this time.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Until we get some steel casks I don¡¯t want to chance it. We¡¯re going one hundred percent keg free this time. They''ll be useful for a demonstration though. Pass me one.¡±


    Richter tossed me a small keg and I took it over to tank number two. I crouched down next to the spigot and began my demonstration. ¡°When racking - that means filling - a keg, or any other kind of container, the most important thing is to minimize the amount of air thates in contact with the alcohol. In the case of a keg, we do that by inserting the spigot into the bunghole - that''s the hole right here.¡±


    Johnsson raised his hand. ¡°We know what a bunghole is Pete.¡±


    ¡°Aw, go put a cork in <i>yer</i> bunghole.¡± I waited for any other interruptions then continued. ¡°It''s important to fill the barrel <i>all the way</i>. You don¡¯t want any excess air at all. If you have to, let a bit spill out of the bunghole when you push in the cork. Why is that?¡±


    Annie put up her hand and I pointed at her. ¡°The beer stilles into contact with the air in the barrel, which is why our beers have a shelf life. As soon as it enters the barrel, there¡¯s a chance the beer will go bad in under a week.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, thanks Annie.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°So that¡¯s why we don¡¯t store any of our beer? And why we try to make sure it all sells within a week or two?¡± Aqua asked, leaning over to look at the barrel.


    ¡°Correct, but my [Refine Brew] changes that!¡± I stated proudly. I opened the spigot and allowed the beer to fill the barrel. When it reached the lip, I stamped a cork into the bunghole, spilling a small amount of beer on the floor. I gestured to Richter, who grabbed a mop and cleaned it up.


    ¡°This beer is now on a timer, but with the Blessings of the Gods the oxidation reaction is stopped before it even begins! [Refine Brew]! ¡± My hand glowed briefly and then flickered out.


    Balin put up his hand.


    ¡°Yes, Balin?¡±


    ¡°Ya dont¡¯ need ta¡¯ call out tha Blessin¡¯s, Pete.¡±


    I slit my eyes. ¡°Penelope, go say ¡®Hello¡¯ to Balin.¡±


    *Meeeeeh!*


    ¡°[Golden Armour]!¡±


    ¡°Hypocrite!¡±


    ¡ª


    After we got Penelope off of Balin, I passed everyone arge box filled with small packets. Aqua looked at one suspiciously and gave it a sniff.


    ¡°Is this¡­ sugar?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s priming sugar. I already exined it to Annie, but the long and short of it is that this sugar made the fizz you liked so much, Aqua.¡±


    ¡°What do we do with it?¡±


    ¡°Let me demonstrate.¡± I grabbed a bottle from a case and walked over to the *sigh* industrial bottle stick. ¡°Did you turn the spigot already, Balin?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it should be full.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Observe.¡± I opened a packet of sugar and poured it into the bottle. ¡°The bottle <i>and</i> the bottle stick have been sanitized. We want to keep it that way, so please make sure that you don¡¯t touch the sugar when you pour it in. After that, you slip the bottle over like this." I slid one of the pipes into my bottle. "Notice the stick on the end of the cork? When that stick gets pushed, the cork is shoved into the pipe and the beer can flow out.¡±


    I pushed the bottom of the bottle against the stick and the clear ss began to fill with bubbling brown liquid. The entire brewery leaned forward to watch the momentous asion: The first bottle rack in the history of Erd! It took a while to fill; dwarves were big drinkers, so we¡¯d made each bottle big enough to contain one litre of beer.


    When the beer reached the lip of the bottle, I pulled the stick out.


    ¡°Next you lever this stopper attached to the bottleneck into ce.¡± I demonstrated. ¡°And swirl the bottle a bit to mix the sugar in. Put the bottle back in the case and you¡¯re done! Oh, and please remember to give the bottle stick a rinse with boiling water every once in a while to reduce contamination. Any questions?¡±


    A couple hands went up and I went down the line answering them. This crew was pretty sharp, and soon everyone was racking bottles one at a time. Assuming¡­. twenty seconds per bottle and six people working at once¡­ I looked at the enormous tank. We¡¯d be able to empty maybe one tank per day. We really needed more workers.


    ¡ª


    Four hourster, the first tank was empty and everyone was dead on their feet. Annie was forced to call a break to rest before we opened the pub. Thankfully, Beatbox had offered his daughter to help Bran prep in the kitchen. I don¡¯t think we would have been able to keep the pub open otherwise.


    Annie had me on full-time Feud duty, so I set to work using [Refine Brew]. Thank the Gods, I was able to activate it on an entire box of bottles at once! I¡¯d been dreading using it on every bottle.


    I looked up at the stacks and stacks of boxes and sighed in satisfaction. I had some ideas for names, but considering the circumstances¡­ I¡¯d go run them past Annie first. Time to design some ads, and find a starving artist to make bottlebels. Minnova wasn¡¯t going to know what hit it!


    And Bastard Brewer Browning was going to <i>SUFFER</i>!


    ¡ª


    Master Brewer Browning nced possessively at his journeymen as they ran to and fro beneath him. They had justpleted another perfect brew, and he stared deep into the murky wort. A stick bobbed to the surface like a salute, the universe itself telling him ¡®good job!¡¯


    Did those upstarts really think they could take on the best brewers in the history of Minnova with something as simple as lemon juice mixed with beer?


    That¡¯s right, he knew the recipe for this dreaded ¡®radler¡¯. He''d obtained it from a prisoner that had been in the City of Minnova Prison Mine with Peter Roughtuff. Theyabout had been over<i>joyed</i> to tell him the recipe in exchange for a paltry dozen gold.


    Browning chuckled darkly. The Thirsty Goat would need a massive number of lemons to make enough radler to even stand a chance. The Contest may be in <i>brewing</i>, but he could still throw around the weight of the Guild. His apprentices were out there right now, purchasing every lemon they could find in the city. He¡¯d also contacted his primary suppliers and told them they might want to be ¡®out¡¯ of lemons for the next couple weeks if they wanted his continued patronage. It would be expensive, but it would also crush his opponent before they even got started.


    This Feud was going to be revitalizing for the brewing industry in Minnova. Browning was looking forward to the droves of thirsty dwarves that would soon descend upon his brewery, desperate for the nostalgic taste of True Brew. Those pathetic wannabe ¡®Brewers¡¯ at the Thirsty Goat weren¡¯t going to know what hit them.

 Chapter 80: Release Day

    <h4>Chapter 80: Release Day</h4>


    I awoke to banging, and the familiar sound of Whistlemop screaming at my door.


    I sighed and pulled myself out of bed. I was exhausted. We''d barely managed to get the conditioned bottles properlybeled and stackedst night, and today was probably going to be a zoo. At least the hard work was worth it!


    <strong>Quest: The New Brew Complete!</strong>


    <i>For the third time in dwarven history, a new brew has graced the world! All rejoice!</i>


    <i>Reward: One Karmic Reversal</i>


    <strong>Agility Increased!</strong>


    <i>All that running around has increased your agility by 1! New agility is 12!</i>


    I still didn¡¯t really know what a Karmic Reversal did. The description wasn¡¯t overly useful either. I really needed those theology lessons from Prophet Barnes.


    <strong>Karmic Reversal [One Use Remaining]:</strong><i> You can call upon a karmic reversal to reverse the flow of fate. After one hour passes, the weight of destiny shall descend again. However, only Gods are truly bound by fate and it is the right of mortals to fight against its current. </i>


    At least the agility was nice and clear. I flexed in the mirror as I grabbed some clothes, and admired my toned and hairy pecs. Looking good Pete!


    ¡°Balin, wake up!¡±


    *Moan*


    I threw a pillow at him and it bounced back onto the floor. He rolled over and blindly grabbing under his bed. "Where''s me socks! Not leavin'' without me socks."


    I pulled on a tunic and pants and made my way to the door. ¡°It¡¯s release day. We have lots to do. I¡¯ll go grab us coffee, so get my dress armour ready.¡±


    That¡¯s right, today was Feud day!


    Our bottle conditioned brew had turned out <i>perfectly!</i> It was clear as topaz, with a generous fizz that bubbled inside the bottle. Just the bottle itself was amazing to look at, let alone the experience of opening it up to a satisfying *pop*! The beer was smooth and consistent, with zero acrid aftertastes or bloody <i>sticks </i>floating in it.


    The crew at the Thirsty Goat went <i>wild</i> when they got to taste itst night. It still tasted awful to me though. At this point I was willing to murder - something - for some hops to use as a bittering agent. Anything other than that Godsawful alchemical bundle of sticks.


    Then there was the ¡®gimmick¡¯ and oh, what a gimmick. I was usually against gimmicky beer, since it pigeonholed you and was usually a cover for bad vour. Our gimmick was just the juicy wet cherry on top, the fabulous tulent fruit.


    It was why we''d decided on the name: ¡®Ass ster¡¯. Gutbuster had been a close second.


    I stumbled to the door and threw it open. He was wearing that Godsawful rainbow suit and tophatbo again.


    ¡°What is it this time, Whistlemop?¡±


    ¡°Pete! Pete! You won¡¯t believe this! You need to get to the Grand Market! RIGHT. NOW!¡±


    I moaned. ¡°<i>Now</i> what?¡±


    ¡ª


    We knew we were approaching the Grand Market because of the line. It started several blocks away. It was noisy, surly, and <i>loud.</i>


    We tried to push through first. ¡°Excuse me!¡±


    ¡°Get in line, bub!¡±


    ¡°No skippin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waitin¡¯ since yesterday! Get to tha¡¯ back!¡±


    Whistlemop, Balin, and I scurried off to an alleyway, but simply found <i>another </i>line snaking through the backstreets.


    ¡°What <i>is</i> this?¡± I groaned. ¡°We don¡¯t need another riot, today of all days!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve not seen a city so worked up withou¡¯ a monster stampede.¡± Balin huffed.


    ¡°The Honourable Guild of Brewers decided to release their brews at the Grand Market too. These lines stretch between my cart and their garden.¡± Whistlemop hissed. He peeked outside the alleyway and then looked back at me. ¡°It looks like they aim to piggyback off the sess of your advertising.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Oh, <i>now </i>they¡¯re okay with the way we do things?¡±


    ¡°Did you see those lines!? They¡¯d need to be <i>idiots</i> not to!¡±


    I grumbled. ¡°I thought they were! Browning is at least. This feels like Drum¡¯s doing, or Malt.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t been idle for the past two weeks. My first task had been scouring Minnova for a good artist. I''d found one through Lilyweather: a gnomish [Artisan] named Littlefoot. He was an incredible artist, his every stroke capturing both the essence and energy of his subject. He was also the first gnome I¡¯d ever met without a moustache. Apparently, he regrly sold it to local beardyparlors in order to afford paint.


    He¡¯d been overjoyed to take part in such an ¡®interesting¡¯ new project. I gave him enough gold to hire a small army of art students to silk-screen bottlebels while he did the big stuff.


    Initially, I was worried the central square merchants wouldn¡¯t want to help me. In fact, they¡¯d been more than willing, they¡¯d been downright amodating. Because of the auction underlying the Grand Market, those that lost were always happy to find some way to give the Main stores a ck eye. Our Feud was the perfect opportunity to nail one of the big Guilds to the wall, and the little guys all wanted to see it happen.


    The result? A fancy poster dering the ¡®Great Minnova Beer Feud¡¯ could be found attached to nearly every stall in the central square of the Grand Market. The poster starred Penelope holding a bottled beer and rocketing into the sky, propelled by - well, let¡¯s just say that if Penelope was capable of understanding that poster I was a dead dwarf walking. Abel featuring the same image was affixed to every bottle of Ass ster.


    I''d also paid some people to loudly talk about Midnas involvement. Nothing like city-wide knowledge of a God''s attention to keep everyone honest.


    The next thing I¡¯d done was put together a jingle riffing on <i>Stacey¡¯s Mom </i>that I¡¯d titled <i>Thirsty Goat. </i>It contained glorious lines like: ¡®Thirsty Goat has got me eatin¡¯ oat¡¯ and ¡®I¡¯m in love with Thirsty Goat¡¯.


    It wasn¡¯t my best work. What mattered was that the Ordinances allowed Bards with an entertainment license to sing in establishments and squares at specific times. There were very few limitations on <i>what</i> they were allowed to sing, so the local taverns and gathering ces had been overrun with various renditions of <i>Thirsty Goat </i>for thest two weeks<i>.</i>


    We also sold a few singing coasters, just because.


    The publicity had the added benefit of keeping the eye of the city on the Brewers Guild, which likely helped keep them <i>honest</i>.


    ¡°We <i>need</i> to get back to my cart!¡± Whistlemop hissed. ¡°Aqua and Annie are selling beer as fast as they can, while Johnsson and Richter help my guards keep order. It¡¯s not enough, we need Balin¡¯s glorious [Golden Armour] to direct the crowd.¡±


    ¡°Wait, then what do you need <i>me</i> for?¡± I asked.


    ¡°This situation is entirely your fault.¡± Whistlemop snapped. ¡°Take responsibility and be helpful.¡±


    ¡°Want me ta use ma armour to push through the line?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°No. We don¡¯t want to set everyone off¡­¡± I drummed my fingers on my thigh and considered. I looked up to the top of the single-storey building we stood beside.


    ¡°Is there any reason we can¡¯t run on top of the buildings?¡± I pointed.


    Balin and Whisltemop looked up.


    ¡°Are you crazy!?¡± Whistlemop shouted.


    ¡°It would technically be trespassin¡¯.¡± Balin began, then paused. ¡°Even then, so long as ya¡¯ leave when yer asked it¡¯s not even a fine. Lotta drunk dwarves wanderin¡¯ into the wrong house in a big city like Minnova.¡±


    ¡°So we could do it, if we¡¯re fast enough?¡±


    ¡°Aye, but we might end up in a fight if someone inside gets mad at us fer runnin¡¯ on their roof.¡±


    ¡°That just means we need to avoid houses with upants.¡± I began searching for a barrel to stand on.


    ¡°How are we gonna do that?¡±


    ¡ª


    From up on the rooftops we could see the lines stretch off into the distance. Everywhere we looked there were dwarves, gnomes, and the asional human waiting patiently in the queue. Impromptu games of hitball had started up in various locations, and it looked like entire ns were out. I even spotted a pic.


    After a few minutes of careful running, we dropped down into the Grand Market. A couple people pointed at us, but we were soon lost in the milling crowd.


    ¡°That¡¯s an incredible Blessing, Pete!¡± Whistlemop apuded.


    ¡°Seems a waste to use it like that.¡± Balin grumbled.


    ¡°Actually, that''s exactly how a minimap is supposed to be used.¡±


    As we made our way through the crowd I began to see dwarves holding bottles of our beer. There was also the asional !!BRAAAPPP!! followed by uproariousughter. The mood in the market was practically <i>festive.</i>


    Mostly. Some of the other merchants were understandably irritated by all themotion.


    [Tranted from angry toothless gnome] "My Cabbages!"


    Everywhere we walked the name ¡®Thirsty Goat¡¯ could be heard. Balin and I looked at each other and smiled ecstatically. It looked like things were going poorly for the Honourable Guild of Brewers.


    Ahead of us, Whistlemop¡¯s cart stood out from the rest of the square. An enormous billboard with a picture of Penelope sting off proudly pronounced: ¡°Come try our new bottled beer. It¡¯s so fresh and fizzy that your vitality can¡¯t contain it. The Thirsty Goat proudly presents: Ass-ster!"


    ¡ª


    Master Brewer Browning¡¯s eye twitched as he looked down on the busy beer garden from the Master¡¯s Booth. He should be overjoyed! At this very moment, the spotlight should be moving away from those perverted pro-drinkers and back onto his Guild where it properly belonged! This was <i>his</i> moment!


    ¡°Ooooh, look at ¡®em!¡± Malt crooned beside him. ¡°We¡¯re gonna be swimmin¡¯ in gold by tha¡¯ time this is done! Maybe I¡¯ll be able to afford ta get the missus one o¡¯ those rune-inscribed foot-baths!


    Browning¡¯s hands clenched so hard his nails drew blood. He couldn¡¯t believe it! They never nned to release the radler at all! Now he was stuck with hundreds of gold worth of rapidly spoiling lemons with nothing to show for it. Worse, that awful goat song was stuck in his head and he¡¯d been hearing it in his <i>nightmares.</i>


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a good thing, Malt!¡± Browning ground out. ¡°Look at them! They¡¯re buying our beer, but then they¡¯re leaving! They¡¯re not <i>talking</i> about it!!!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can see that, Browning,¡± Malt chuckled. ¡°I have to wonder where this ¡®Ass-ster¡¯ came from. They must have had a batch already brewed. The bottles can¡¯t have been something they came up with on the fly either. They baited you into this Feud, you know. You got yed, Browning!¡±


    ¡°Damnit!!¡± Browning smashed his fist against the railing, and some of the dwarves in the beer garden looked their way. One waved a hand holding a beer bottle at him. He gritted his teeth and turned away. A faint *Braaap* echoed out behind him, followed byughter.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this! Beer that makes you- you-¡±


    ¡°Gassy?¡± Malt looked aside as an apprentice ran up and passed him a package.


    ¡°It¡¯s disrespectful to the beer!!¡± Browning raged. ¡°As if the radler wasn¡¯t bad enough! This turns our Sacred Brew into an object of mockery! How will any dwarf take us seriously ever again!?¡±


    Malt carefully unwrapped the package. ¡°We change our name to the Honourable Guild of Tooters?¡±


    ¡°THIS ISN¡¯T FUNNY, MALT!¡±


    ¡°Oh? I¡¯m having a lovely time. This is one of the biggest beer festivals I can remember, and I¡¯m a good deal older than you, Browning. A fact you keep forgetting.¡±


    Browning turned to look back down at the crowd in the beer garden. He counted at least a dozen of those bottles, and everywhere he saw one, dwarven heads were bent together in discussion. ¡°What are we going to <i>do! </i>We might <i>lose</i>!¡±


    ¡°Mhm. Sounds like a ¡®you¡¯ problem.¡±


    ¡°This could alter the image of beer forever!¡±


    ¡°Actually, these bottles seem very well suited for beer. The stopper on top is rather ingenious too. I wonder if those youngsters came up with it?¡± *pop*


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you more worried about this, Malt! Those upstarts are going to destroy the image that we¡¯ve spent millenia creating! The image that <i>you </i>spent <i>centuries </i>building!¡± Browning pointed down to where a trio of dwarves werepeting for the loudest fart. ¡°Look at these fools!¡±


    Malt chuckled. ¡°Thebel is fairly amusing. I can imagine my family crest on one of these. Maybe on a brown bottle, instead of clear? I wonder how it tastes?¡± *glug*


    ¡°Who cares how it tastes! This is a catastrophe!¡± *rumble*


    Browning wheeled back to look at Malt, who had a bottle to his lips. Browning¡¯s mouth dropped in indignation as Malt shrugged.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite *burp* tasty. Almost exactly like True Brew, but with a bit more fizz.¡±


    ¡°MALT!¡± Browning roared, his face twisting up with rage.


    !!BRAAAAAAAPPP!! "Hoh! ''Scuse me!"


    ¡ª


    Everyone in the garden looked up as a primal scream erupted from the raised wooden structure that contained the Master¡¯s Booth. The scream was followed by a brief scuffle, and then someone in the booth shouted ¡°[Shatter]!¡± One secondter, every ss bottle in the vicinity exploded, showering everyone with ss and fizzy beer.


    usations were leveled, fists began to fly, and the garden was soon overrun with sticky, swearing, dwarves.


    A patrol of [Guards] arrived momentster and quickly dispersed the crowd. They were<i></i>intrigued to learn of the exploding ss. After all, a simr event had set off a riot in the Grand Market just a few weeks ago. The culprit was still atrge, and City Hall was <i>very</i> interested in finding them.

 Chapter 81: Highs and Lows

    <h4>Chapter 81: Highs and Lows</h4>


    I underestimated the power of advertising in this new world.


    I already saw how sessful it could be with my little speech in the arena. I <i>should</i> have been ready for the absolute shitshow that descended upon the Grand Market. But even I couldn¡¯t have expected the massive event that struck the city like a wave. It was a zoo, a deafening explosion of demanding exuberant dwarves and gnomes desperate to try a new take on an old cultural favourite. The fact that Midna was going to judge the words of every person in the city was icing on the hype cake. Things settled down after the second day, but there was still a near constant line.


    The verdict was in. Our beer was smoother, clearer, <i>fizzier</i>, and more fun to drink. Since dwarves mostly drank as a social exercise, the fun factor pushed it over the edge.


    We sold out in four days.


    After the first day, Whistlemop hired some additional hands to sell beer while the brew-crew bottled a fresh batch of Ass-ster in the brewery. The new batch didn¡¯t get to bottle-condition properly - that really needed a whole week - but it was good enough.


    We started the feud with over one hundred thousand bottles. By the end of the first week we¡¯d sold over one hundred fifty thousand litres of beer.


    Our profit was insane.


    Annie was walking around in a fugue state, her body unable to determine if it was overjoyed or over-stressed.


    Whistlemop began randomly giggling whenever he thought no-one was watching.


    Balin developed a nervous twitch trying to keep thousands of dwarves from overrunning Whistlemop¡¯s cart every hour of the day.


    Johnsson and Richter wereining that one more hour of racking bottles and they would file a worker safety im with City Hall. Even John was rubbing his wrist andining about aches from non-existent weather.


    Bran delivered an ultimatum regarding staffing, and hired Beatbox¡¯s daughter Lemontwist full-time.


    Aqua was¡­ cheerfully Aqua.


    As for me?


    It was <i>glorious</i>.


    This was so different from the radler. Did some dwarves give us the old death-stare when they passed by? Sure, but there were always going to be luddites. This time there were no fights, no angry derations of war, no <i>shaved beards</i>. The general consensus was that Ass-ster was strictly <i>better</i> than True Brew. We even got a few requests to release a non-tulent variety for the more¡­ discerning dwarf.


    A request we were desperately happy to answer. Unrefined lily-leopard liver oil was <i>expensive</i>!


    The Thirsty Goat was on the lips of nearly every denizen in Minnova.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Ok Annie, I think that¡¯s thest of the boxes!¡± I called.


    ¡°Good! We need to hurry back!¡±


    I set the box of bottles down in Whistlemop¡¯s cart and stepped out. It was still early morning, which meant the crowd was <i>only</i> a few dozen dwarves deep. I recognized some of them as regrs, but most were new. In the back of my mind the ¡®influence¡¯ quest was buzzing up like a slot machine. It was slower now, but at this rate I was still likely to hit one million dwarves by the end of the year.


    I looked up at Whistlemop, who was standing on his usual podium next to the cart. He was still selling his Whistlemugs, and even had a ten percent special on for dwarves that bought an Ass-ster with a mug. ¡°How¡¯s it going, Whistlemop?¡±


    His face practically <i>glittered</i>. ¡°It¡¯s going well, Pete!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear! I wanted to chatter about a new idea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to, but I have to make some preparations.¡± Whistlemop gave a savage smile. ¡°I¡¯m going to make a bid on a main store in the Grand Market.¡±


    I whistled. ¡°Can you really afford that?¡±


    Whistlemopughed. Then he cackled. ¡°Do you know what our profit margin is on your beer and my mugs? Let alone the value of the Whistlestops or the possibilities afforded by my ss business? We¡¯re severely limited by the size and location of my cart. We need to <i>expand</i>.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a n.¡± I nodded. ¡°Do you need me for it?¡±


    Whistlemug waved me away. ¡°It¡¯s just math, and finances. I can handle it -¡± His gaze grew stormy and he pointed off to the right. ¡°But I won¡¯t handle whatever that is. Annie!¡±


    Everyone¡¯s attention snapped to where Whislemop was pointing. A contingent of dwarves in brown and ck armour headed towards us. Their beards were done up in ornate knotwork, and the smell of onion preceded them.


    It was the Honourable Guild of Brewers. They marched with Malt at the head, and stopped a bare stone¡¯s throw away from the cart.


    ¡°What do you want, Malt?¡± Annie demanded. She stood atop Whistlemop¡¯s little riser, having taken it over when the brewers arrived. She stared down at the assembled brewers in contempt. There were over two dozen, and I only recognized a few of them. There was Malt, Drum, mutton-chops, greenbeard, the ginger twins, and even¡­ Jeremiah Goldstone?! Annie¡¯s gaze swept over her father and he gave a weak wave. She brushed it off and nailed Malt with another re. ¡°Did youe to try and mess with our operation? I¡¯ll have you know that we¡¯re prepared to fight if necessary!¡±


    ¡°Calm down, calm down, young Goldstone.¡± Malt chuckled. ¡°So fiery. She got that from her mother, didn¡¯t she Jeremiah?¡± He nced back at Jeremiah, who nodded, a smile flickering briefly across his face. Malt frowned and looked back at Annie. ¡°We aren¡¯t here to fight you.¡±


    ¡°No? What then? If you want more time, we refuse to give it to you.¡± Annie crossed her arms.


    At this point we were gathering a crowd. The two dozen dwarves in our line had ballooned to nearly a hundred, and more were collecting as fast as their stubby legs could carry them. The brewers clustered together, clearly ufortable with all the attention.


    Malt gave a wide smile. ¡°On the contrary, actually. We¡¯re here to surrender.¡±


    There was shocked silence as everyone considered his words.


    Annie sputtered. ¡°Y-you-wh-what-why-you can¡¯t do that! We agreed on two weeks and Midna¡¯s judgment!¡±


    Malt waved his pointer finger from side to side and *tutted*. ¡°We don¡¯t need a <i>Goddess</i> to show us the obvious. That would be a disrespectful waste of her holy time. It is clear to everyone that you have won this Feud. Ach, give me that g Drum!¡±


    Drum solemnly passed forward a long stick with a white g atop it and Malt waved it back and forth.


    ¡°For the dwarves in the back! WE! SURRENDER! *cough*¡± Malt yelled hard enough to hack up a lung at the end.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: The Feud</strong>


    <i>You won! Was there ever any doubt? This stuff is delicious by the way. Lunara hates the side effect, which makes it even better. </i>


    <i>Reward: +0.2 Cha, [Blessed] condition</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Condition Gained: Blessed!</strong>


    <i>You have been [Blessed]! You are more resistant to disease and gain 4 vitality for the next year. </i>


    I pumped my fist. Score! As I nced over the notifications, my vision was arrested by a blinking dot on my minimap. I felt my heart quicken and my mind go numb. The next few moments passed in a blur, like a video-game simting shock.


    Everyone began cheering. It started with Aqua, moved on to the guards around the cart, and then spread through the Market. There was a lot of back pping and fist bumping and general cheerful violence. Then Annie had to ruin it. She began to gesticte wildly until the crowd grew silent, and nailed Malt with a steely re.


    ¡°Why are you the one to tell me this, Malt? I want to hear it from Guildmaster Browning. I want to hear him admit that he¡¯ll <i>never </i>brew in Minnova again! I want to hear him admit that our brew is <i>not </i>an abomination!¡±


    A couple of the brewers coughed, and Malt gave an ironic smile.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that will be difficult, Annie. You see, Browning was voted out as Guildmaster two days ago. <i>I</i> am the current master of tha Honourable Guild of Brewers.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Annie¡¯s sentiment was echoed by the crowd.


    ¡°Oh yes. He was bing absolutely <i>intolerable </i>to live with. Aside from that, Browning is a bit¡­ indisposed.¡±


    Annie was shell-shocked. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Malt¡¯s eyes glittered.


    ¡°I understand that he was arrested this morning. He will likely be headed to a certain Minnova Reform Mine by the end of the week.¡± He winked. ¡°So, do you ept our surrender? I can¡¯t stand around here all day, ma knees will give out!¡±


    Annie barely managed a tiny nod.


    Beside me, Aqua burst into tears, and that was enough to get the crowd cheering again. For their part, the brewers just looked ufortable.


    Aqua buried her head in my beard and soaked it with tears, then wrapped me in a hug. ¡°Pete! Can you believe it!? We won!¡± She paused and looked up at me with confusion. ¡°Pete?¡±


    I barely registered her presence.


    My attention hadn¡¯t wavered from my [Minimap]. A knot roiled in my stomach, and my heart was pounding like a drum. A solitary purple dot indicated the presence of unrefined lily-leopard liver oil. Right on top¡­ of Jeremiah Goldstone.


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    *bing*


    <strong>Quest Complete: The Malted Mystery</strong>


    You have found the culprits that contaminated your beer!


    Reward: +0.2 Wisdom, [White Lie]


    <strong>[White Lie]</strong><strong><i></i></strong><i>- You gain a bonus 4 charisma when you tell a lie that is not intended to harm someone. The lie will read as ¡®true¡¯ to abilities that can discern truth and lies.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once per minute.</i>


    Aqua was shaking me, and I nced down at her. Her eyes were filled with concern. ¡°Are you okay Pete?¡±


    I smiled with my lips, and told a little [White Lie]. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just shocked we won already.¡±


    She smiled back at the truth in my words, and I brought my hands behind my back to hide my bleeding palms.


    ¡ª


    Jeremiah Goldstone awoke in his chair as water sshed against his face. His eyes rolled and he sputtered. ¡°Wha-who?¡± He tried to stand, but stumbled, still half-drunk. He looked around wildly, and recognized the environs of Drum¡¯s pub, the <i>Rusty Battleaxe</i>. Thest thing he remembered wasing here after the surrender and burying himself in alcohol.


    ¡°Drum!¡± He roared, water dripping from his beard. ¡°What in tha Nether is this?¡± The building was empty of patrons. How long had he been out?


    A figure stepped into his vision, and Jeremiah gasped as though struck in the heart.


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    ¡°Hello Jeremiah. I think we need to have a talk, dwarfo-a-dwarfo.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing here? Drum! DRUM!?¡± Jeremiah tried to stand, his eyes wide with panic, but his legs weren¡¯t listening to him. His mighty frame heaved with exertion and a vein popped up on his nearly bald head. He managed a single tottering step, but then the world spun, and he fell to the ground in a heap.


    ¡°DRUM!¡± He screamed.


    ¡°Drum¡¯s finishing up with some stuff out back. Just you and me, <i>Mr. </i>Goldstone.¡± Pete grabbed a bar-stool and pulled it in front of Jeremiah, taking a seat. His voice grew sarcastic. ¡°Or should I call you <i>Master Brewer</i> Goldstone?¡±


    ¡°I-I-don¡¯t know what yer talkin¡¯ about.¡± Jeremiah moaned. ¡°I need to-to go home, Pete. I can¡¯t talk right now.¡±


    ¡°You <i>do</i> have poormunication skills recently. Can I get you a ss of water to help you sober up? When <i>was </i>thest time you were sober, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t remember¡­¡± Jeremiah licked suddenly dry lips.


    ¡°Does this jog yer memory?¡± Pete tossed a small ck vial up into the air with one hand. Jeremiah¡¯s eyes followed it, watching with a hypnotised gaze as it spun and sparkled. Pete caught it in his palm with a *smack* and Jeremiah flinched away as though struck.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering why you did it.¡± Pete said. ¡°Drum tried to exin, but I need to hear it from you.¡±


    Jeremiah continued to look around the pub, anywhere but at Pete. ¡°H-how do ya know Drum?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a friend of a friend.¡± Pete drawled. ¡°Yer avoidin¡¯ the question, Master Brewer.¡±


    There was a moment¡¯s awkward silence, broken only by Jeremiah¡¯s ragged breathing.


    ¡°I¡­ I swore an oath. To the Gods and upon my ancestors.¡± He began, nearly whispering. ¡°I kept that oath fer four hundred years. Even after ma¡¯ wife died and I only had Annie, I still kept ma¡¯ oath. To protect tha Sacred Brew that my parents and my ancestors crafted with love and devotion. To uphold the tenants of the Guild in the face of all opposition." His voice cracked. ¡°I swore an <i>oath</i>.¡±


    ¡°THAT¡¯S <i>IT</i>!?¡± Pete bellowed, and smashed the bottle on the floor.¡°You betrayed our <i>trust</i>, your daughter¡¯s <i>future</i>, for some stupid OATH?¡±


    ¡°I HAD NO CHOICE!¡± Jeremiah¡¯s voice cracked in anguish. ¡°What more do ya <i>want</i> of me!? You¡¯ve taken me brewery! Me daughter! My life¡¯s work! Would you see me be forsworn before tha Gods too? To sully tha¡¯ unbroken honour o¡¯ my ancestors? Just - just leave me be - *sob* - <i>damn you</i>!¡± He began to weep.


    Pete¡¯s face slowly changed from disgust to concern as Jeremiah fell apart before him. The straightforward Mr. Goldstone, the backbone of Thirsty Goat brewery, reduced to a blubbering mess.


    ¡°Was it <i>really </i>worth all this?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it was.¡± Drum interrupted,ing in from the back door. ¡°Jeremiah Goldstone was always an honourable dwarf. No better dwarf around. Better than me, that¡¯s fer sure.¡± He pointed his silver hand at Pete, which morphed into a shining shortde. ¡°Better than you too, eh!?¡±


    Pete hissed. ¡°I <i>never</i> would¡¯ve chosen my job over my daughter. And don''t think I''ve forgotten your part in all this Drum!¡±


    Drum grunted augh, his hand changing back to a silver fist. ¡°See, that¡¯s where yer wrong, Pete! Brewin¡¯ ain¡¯t just a job, or even a way of life fer dwarves like us. It defines our family goin¡¯ back thousands of years, an unbroken line o¡¯ duty and trust. It seeps into us from tha moment we¡¯re born and never leaves us till tha day we die. Browning made Jeremiah choose between his family or what makes him a <i>dwarf</i>.¡± He nodded at Jeremiah, whoy weeping. ¡°A choice like that would break a stronger dwarf than Jeremiah Goldstone.¡±


    Pete glowered, but didn¡¯t gainsay him.


    Drum walked over to Jeremiah, and lifted him up. ¡°Aye, and Browning was wrong, to force that choice. He should have asked one o¡¯ us ta sneak the oil in. To test yer loyalty like that was a step too far. I speak fer all the Honourable Guild o¡¯ Brewers when I say we¡¯re ashamed, Jeremiah.¡± He pulled Jeremiah into an embrace, then sat him back down in a chair and turned to Pete. ¡°I¡¯m not a [Counsellor], Pete. I don¡¯t know how to make this better.¡±


    Pete groaned and stood, walking over to the firece. He rubbed his head in his hands for a few minutes as the three waited in agonizing silence. asionally he paced around and swore while pulling at his beard. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and spoke. ¡°I don''t see why this is my responsibility. Jeremiah, it¡¯s going to be painful, but <i>you</i> need to tell Annie.¡±


    Jeremiah looked up with terror. Pete patted his back. ¡°Broken trust is hard to regain, but honesty can patch the cracks. Annie needs the support of her father. If Drum can understand, then I <i>know</i> Annie will too.¡± He chuckled darkly. ¡°She may want to beat you around the head for a while, but I think deep down you probably want that. Throw yourself on your daughter¡¯s mercy, Jeremiah. She¡¯s a strong dwarfess. She doesn¡¯t need you to destroy yourself to protect her from the truth. If you keep walking away, one day you¡¯re going to look back, and she¡¯ll be gone.¡±


    Jeremiah looked deep into Pete¡¯s eyes. The eyes of a father that had forever lost his only child. Jeremiah took a deep breath, steadied himself, and nodded.


    ¡°Oh, and onest thing. [Basic sh]!¡± Pete pulled back an arm and punched Jeremiah in the nose. Jeremiah toppled off his chair with an *Arrghh!* Drum stepped forward in shock, then gave Pete a wry look.


    Pete nursed his slightly bruised knuckles. ¡°Wow, that <i>is</i> cathartic!¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Are ya sure I shouldn¡¯t be in there, Pete?¡± Balin grumped. ¡°I can hold him down while she kicks.¡±


    Balin and I sat camped in the alleyway behind the Goldstonepound. The sound of screaming and smashing bottles came from within.


    ¡°No, they¡¯re long overdue for some father-daughter bonding time. He''s just lucky everything turned out alright. I think everyone would be a lot more angry if the brew had actually failed.¡± I took a long deep drink from a bottle, then gagged. ¡°Ugh, this stuff <i>still </i>tastes like shit.¡±

 Chapter 82: Shareholder

    <h4>Chapter 82: Shareholder</h4>


    I sat in Annie¡¯s office and spun a pencil around my index finger. It was a favourite trick of mine, and it had taken a while to get my thick dwarf paws to do it properly. Beside me, Aqua was trying to copy the motion, and I snickered as her pencil flipped up and smacked her in the nose. She scowled and shoved me, then got back to her paperwork.


    I sighed and looked down at my own messy desk. If there was one thing I hadn¡¯t missed from Earth, it was paperwork. Now that I was a shareholder of the Thirsty Goat, I had to do paperwork. At least, that''s what Annie told me while she went gvanting off with my brother.


    ¡°Aqua, why is there fifty gold earmarked for ¡®clothes shopping¡¯?¡± I pointed at the offending column.


    Aqua leaned over to look. ¡°Because we still need proper shoes. Johnsson slipped against week, and Annie thought it would be nice if we got some Thirsty Goat branded clothes. Oh, and work outfits. Especially since Ass-ster paraphernalia sells so well.¡±


    ¡°Ah, good! good! The student bes the master!¡± I signed off on the expense and added it to my ¡®out¡¯ pile. Only five gajillion more sheets of paper to go. I shooed Penelope as she nibbled at the pile. ¡±No, Penelope. You can¡¯t eat that.¡±


    *maaaaaah!* [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°Mine!¡±


    ¡°No!! Bad Goat! That took me an hour to write!!!¡±


    *meeeeeeh!!!* [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°This is vengeance for that poster!¡±


    ¡°NUUOOOOOHHHHH!!!¡±


    I was saved as a muscled arm reached down and plucked Penelope off the ground with an offended bleat. I looked up at the jolly face of Jeremiah Goldstone. He was wearing a set of brown cks and a white undershirt. A simple half-chest cuirass satisfied the need for armor and a tackleboxy on the ground behind him. He shed a toothy smile. He was looking a lot better now, though his face seemed to have aged fifty years in the past month.


    ¡°You need to behave, Penelope! Just because I¡¯m not around doesn¡¯t mean you have the run of the ce. You know the rules!¡±


    Penelope spun miserably in the air, held aloft by Jeremiah¡¯s hand gripping her mane.


    *meeeeeehh¡­.* [Tranted from prima donna goat] ¡°The indignity¡­¡±


    Jeremiah dropped Penelope and she pranced off with a pompous flick of her tail. We watched her go, and he chuckled. ¡°I can see why Richter calls her princess.¡±


    I pointed at the tacklebox. ¡°Are you headed out?¡±


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m meeting Captain Morris at the east gate. We¡¯re going to try and catch some fresh cave trout. Bran said he wants to make something you called sashimi.¡±


    My mouth watered and I wiped it with my sleeve. ¡°I wish you all the luck of Barck in your endeavors.¡±


    As Jeremiah turned to go, he stopped and spun back around. ¡°Pete.¡±


    ¡°Aye?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to say thank you. For everything. I didn¡¯t trust you at first, yet you saved my brewery, my home, and my family. I am forever in your debt. I owe you a life boon.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do that!¡± I protested. Especially because I had no idea what a life boon was, and it sounded annoying. Plus¡­ I was still miffed at Jeremiah. He was trying, but he was still persona non grata around the Goat. Partly forgiven, but not forgotten.


    ¡°You deserve it Pete. Ma'' Annie still isn''t really talkin'' to me, but at least she says ''hello'' now and again. I may have lost some trust, but I didn''t lose my daughter. Thanks to you, I have enough spark left in me to make it up to her. Cheers!¡± Jeremiah saluted, and left me with onest bombshell as he walked out the door. ¡°Also, your brother finally asked me if he could court Annie! I said yes!¡±


    I bumped my desk and dozens of papers fell to the ground. ¡°Wait!! WHAT!?¡±


    ¡ª


    A short whileter I stood in the front entrance of a Grand Market Main Store. It was a rare two storey affair, with a stairwell leading up to a second floor that overlooked the front entrance. The shop on the main floor had a beer tasting and sales counter, and upstairs was converted into a ss emporium.


    Whistlemop descended the stairs and gestured around with pride. ¡°How is it?¡±


    ¡°I think you look better with that stupid red false moustache.¡±


    Whistlemop scowled. ¡°I mean the store.¡±


    ¡°It looks amazing! I especially like the <i>enormous picture of your face</i> hanging over the mezzanine!¡± I pointed at the garish logo.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it look amazing?¡± Whistlemop sighed with pleasure.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± I pulled at my beard. ¡°And everyone in the city knows your face by now, so it¡¯s an effective brand.¡±


    ¡°First Minnova, soon the world!¡± Whisltemopughed maniacally.


    ¡°That¡¯s a pretty big ambition for such a tiny gnome.¡±


    ¡°Bah! Not like you''re much taller. Come in, I¡¯ll show you around.¡±


    Whistlemop led me on a tour of our new store, <i>Whistlemop¡¯s Emporium of Fine Goods and Beer</i>. It had the solid feeling of dwarven construction with some subtle nods to gnomish tastes, like the wooden paneling and fine detail work. There was ss in the windows, and the interior was lit with a mix of purple light from outside and yellow solstones. Rune-inscribed ss refrigerators lined the walls of the bottom floor. They contained a mix of Thirsty Goat and other local Guild brews.


    A chalkboard above the counter listed special beers of the week. Right now Ass-ster and the non-tulent variant we¡¯d named New Brew were the only things listed. I had high hopes for that chalkboard. I expected it to be filled with new beers and vours as Minnova underwent a beer renaissance. Led by yours truly, of course.


    The second floor was filled with Whistlemop¡¯s old wares, a collection of vines, runestones, and other dungeon paraphernalia. I noticed a small collection of ssworks tucked against a corner and chuckled. It was a disy case of uniquely shaped vases, marked down as clearance.


    Surprisingly enough, our biggest moneymaker wasn¡¯t the beer or the Whistlemugs, but the bottles. Every brewery in the city was buying bottles from us as fast as we could make them. The breweries were still only selling True and Light Brew, but they loved the versatility and potential of bottles. Malt¡¯s brewery even had a sticker with a brand new logo on the front!


    ¡°It looks great!¡± I said after the tour ended.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it? I can¡¯t wait for opening day!¡± Whistlemop rubbed his hands together with glee then held up a finger in realization. ¡°I have some more of your share if you want it.¡± He reached into empty air and pulled out a sack of coins.


    I took the sack and simrly reached out into the air. ¡°[Big Money]!¡± The bag vanished.


    ¡°You know, you don¡¯t need to say the Milestone to activate it.¡± Whistlemop chortled. I briefly considered pushing him down the stairs.


    [Big Money] was a Milestone both Whistlemop and I earnedst week. We got it after our profits exceeded one hundred thousand silver in a single month. It gave us a small subspace pocket to store gold and other forms of cash. It wasn¡¯t aplete substitute for a bank, but it beat a wallet.


    I made out like a bandit in thest month, and not just in gold. I¡¯d managed to increase my intelligence by one after several more lessons with Richter and Barnes, and all the pen twirling had nabbed me an additional dexterity. Between my previous rewards, apleted quest for winning the Grand Market auction, and some elbow grease, I had a pretty sweet stat sheet.


    <strong>Status: Provided by The Firmament</strong>


    Name: Peter Roughtuff Age: 49


    Conditions: [Blessed]


    Race: Dwarf


    Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]


    Title: [Otherworldly Brewer]


    Milestones: [Power Pick], [White Lie], [Basic sh], [Big Money]


    Strength 15.2


    Vitality 17.3


    Agility 12


    Dexterity 12


    Wisdom 14.2


    Intelligence 13


    Perception 15.1


    Charisma 12.2


    After a little bit of shop talk I gave Whistlemop polite excuses and headed out. The Thirsty Goat family had a special dinner nned for tonight, but first came the dinner rush¡­


    ¡ª


    Later that night we all sat around one of the longer tables in the pub. Bran stood at the head of the table, expertly cutting slices of raw trout into sashimi. The pub had closed an hour before and the dishes were all done. We would have normally gone home, but the fish were fresh caught by Jeremiah and it seemed a shame to waste them. Trout usually isn¡¯t safe for sushi, but Bran had a new Milestone called [Purify Food] to take care of that.


    We just started eating when Annie and Balin arrived back at the brewery, arm in arm. Annie¡¯s eyes were sparkling, and Balin had a goofy look on his face.


    Aqua twigged to it first.


    ¡°YOU ASKED!¡± She screeched.


    Annie blushed and nodded while Balin curled his beard with pride.


    ¡°SHE SAID YES!¡± Johnsson jumped up and tipped over his bench, knocking Richter to the floor as he did so. Richter swept Johnsson¡¯s legs out from under him and the pair began to wrestle on the floor while the rest of us caught on.


    The room broke into cheerful congrattions interspersed with outraged shouting. I made sure to get some friendly beats in on my bro, while Jeremiah scooped his daughter into a big hug. He gave Balin a friendly sp on the shoulder and the two of them shared a nod. We made room at the table for the lovebirds, and Bran set up two new tes of sashimi.


    ¡°How did he ask?¡± Aqua demanded.


    ¡°He put on his Golden Armour and then sang me a bad while standing atop a pile of gemstones¡± Annie sighed with pleasure at the memory. ¡°He was <i>awful</i>.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad¡­¡± Balin grumbled.


    ¡°I dunno, I¡¯ve heard you sing in the shower!¡± I shot back.


    ¡°Since we¡¯re sharin¡¯ happy news, I got some.¡± Bran interrupted, then blushed. ¡°Opal is goin¡¯ to be finished at the mine next year. City Hall says she¡¯ll be back in Minnova by spring.¡±


    ¡°Are you goin¡¯ to ask her too?¡± Balin asked, his hand sping Annie¡¯s.


    Bran choked.


    ¡°I have something to announce as well." Jeremiah stood up, and raised his ss. ¡°It¡¯s been a long timeing, but I think now is as good a time as any. Annie, I¡¯m proud of you. You¡¯ve grown into something that I never could''ve imagined. Between the Pub and the Feud, you¡¯ve proven that you¡¯re more than capable of running this old ce. Your mother would be overjoyed by the wonderful, incredible, dwarf you''ve be. So, I¡¯m releasing my ownership of the Thirsty Goat to you. You¡¯re in charge now, and nothing can change that. May Aaron bless your endeavours and Barck grant you luck.¡±


    There was a shocked silence, and then Annieunched herself from her seat and clung onto Jeremiah in a massive bear hug. The rest of us erupted into apuse.


    I hopped up on the table and raised my ss. ¡°It¡¯s been a long half-year! What started as a small Thirsty Goat is now one of the most sessful breweries in Minnova! We have new family, new friends, and new futures! We few stood against the powers that be and survived. Though the mighty sought to strike us down, we seeded against all odds and brewed the first new brew in millennia! That doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s time to rest on oururels; now that everyone knows beer has potential beyond True Brew and Light Brew, we will bring forth a new age in brewing! May our beers and our beards be Blessed! Cheers!!¡± "CHEERS!!" *Meeeeh!!*


    I choked up a bit. After all that hard work, we were finally on track to start making some real beers. I had so many more brews to introduce to everyone, and I couldn¡¯t wait to get started.


    In the back of my mind, thoughts of winning a certain Great Game and the faint possibility of going back home slipped a little further away.


    Outside, the purple light of the great crystal shone down on the sleepless city of Minnova. Some dwarves cooked, others smithed, a few danced, and even fewer brewed. In darkness, a keg was ced down, and some malt boiled. In basements around Minnova the first craft brewers in ten thousand years took a chance, for better or for worts<i>.</i>


    ¡ª


    *tink*


    *plink*


    *nk*


    *thunk*


    ¡°Argh, my toe!!!¡± The angry voice of Magelos Browning rang out in the darkness. He threw his pickaxe aside and nursed the foot he¡¯d just hit with it. He raged in his heart. This wasn¡¯t <i>fair</i>! He was an upstanding member of dwarven society! A pir of themunity! How <i>dare</i> those ungrateful bastards in the Guild toss him out! He¡¯d been more than willing to pay that Whistlefop, what right did the City have to throw him into this - this - <i>den of criminals</i>!


    ¡°Watch where yer tossin¡¯ that, eh?¡± A red-haired dwarf with an incredibly bushy beardined. ¡°I don¡¯t need ta lose more o¡¯ my sanity than I already have bein¡¯ stuck in here with a daft bugger.¡±


    Browning began to hotly retort, but held it back. A few tussles with Sam had revealed the futility in that endeavor.


    Sam walked up the tunnel and smacked him on the shoulder. ¡°Now hurry up, we¡¯ve only got another hour before they set tha¡¯ next charges. Did I tell you ma¡¯ boy Pete invented them?¡± He chuckled with pride.


    Oh yes¡­ Browning knew that name. He cursed it every day and every hour that he was stuck in this Godsforsaken ce. They even served that Netherborne monster''s radler with every damn meal in here!!! It was an outrage!!! It would only take a decade or two, but he would be out, and he would have his revenge!


    ¡°You¡¯ve got such a dour look, Browning! Liven up! I can¡¯t imagine another six months here with ya if yer goin¡¯ to be such a sour-puss. Come on, sing with me!¡±


    Sam broke into a merry ditty, his slightly off-tune voice a grating throb in Browning¡¯s ears. The plink of axes, the thunder of minecarts, and the cheerful voices of dwarves echoed through the mine.


    Brothers in the dive rejoice!


    Swing, swing, swing with me.


    Raise your pick and raise your voice!


    Sing, sing, sing with me.


    Down and down into the deep,


    Will we find Tiara''s Keep?


    Diamonds, mithril, gold and more,


    Hidden in the mountain store!


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole.


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole!


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole.


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!

 Book 1 - Epilogue

    <h4>Book 1 - Epilogue</h4>


    Somewhere else.


    On the side of a cliff there stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    A boardy on the center of the table, eight ornate pieces atop it. The pieces moved about in an ancient game that no mortal could ever hope toprehend.


    The yers of the game were currently arguing.


    ¡°This is ridiculous! How is he beating my Chosen!? He isn¡¯t even pretty!¡± A slightly grubby woman with a blonde mullet whined.


    A stately ck elven woman scoffed. ¡°How is <i>pretty </i>supposed to mean anything when you chose a <i>writer</i> Midna!?¡±


    ¡°Stop teasing her, Lunara. I¡¯m more surprised that he¡¯s beating Solen¡¯s Chosen.¡± The well-dressed gnomess that was Tiara said.


    ¡°Hmph. It will remain to be seen if that keeps...¡± The bronze dragon Solen opened a maw filled with fire.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I like the sound of that, Solen.¡± An elderly man in arcane robes muttered.


    A young gnome girl squealed from under the table. ¡°Your pretty pop-princess is losing, Archie!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s <i>ARCHIS!</i>¡±


    !!BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP!!


    Seven eyes turned to look up the mountain. Barck sat on his bluff and looked down upon the world. He held a bottle of beer that depicted a rather rude image of a goat and was devouring a pretzel the size of a football stadium. Every once in a while the mountain rocked as he roared withughter.


    ¡°Ugh, he¡¯s going to be insufferable if he wins this.¡± Lunara muttered.


    Thenky feline beastman Aaron stood from his chair. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some fries and see what¡¯s on.¡±


    There was a general mutter of agreement as the Gods went to watch their favourite streams.


    In the now unattended gazebo, an ivory dwarf carrying a bottle moved into opposition with another dwarf wielding a shepherd''s crook. Far below, mortals whirled through the intricate dance of life, blissfully unaware of a Great Game that was slowly building into a storm.


    ¨C


    Balin passed through the great stone archway to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild and looked around. The Guild was located near the gate closest to Greentree, and served as a hub for merchants and adventurers alike. A stream of monster hunters, porters, and middlemen poured through the grand stone entrance alongside him.


    The Adventurer¡¯s Guild was made entirely of thick stone blocks, and the double-wide door held a portcullis that could easily amodate wagons of supplies. Its basement stretched deep below the city, and it was connected to several different water sources. In the case of a monster stampede it was meant to act as ast line of defense for beleaguered citizens.


    The general feeling around him was of eagerness and repressed bloodthirst. Adventuring parties sharpened their weapons and prepared to enter the outskirts of Greentree for the first time in nearly two months. The city had announced the reopening of the dungeon just one day prior as the various disced monsters had finished settling into their new territories. Balin spotted multiple six man parties and even a couple of twelve person raids. Then there were the singleton stragglers; either neers like him, or powerful named adventurers. Speaking of named adventurers, Balin spotted the one he hade to meet and waved.


    ¡°Tania!¡±


    The dwarfess spotted Balin and waved back. ¡°Balin, over here!¡±


    Balin picked his way through the crowd and trotted up next to her. She was dressed for battle, her thick te-metal armour covered every inch of her body, and her heavy two-handed meteor-hammer was polished to a mirror finish.


    ¡°Everyone, this is Balin.¡± She gestured to a group of dwarves arrayed around her. They were all rough and tumble veterans of Greentree dungeon. Balin spotted a [Conjurer], a [Wizard], a [Doctor], a [Berzerker], and a [Hunter]. ¡°Balin here wants ta be an adventurer. Balin, this is my party, <i>Bloody Beard</i>.¡±


    There was a murmur of wee, though no great cheer. These grizzled warriors were all too aware of the dangers to cheer for anyone mad or desperate enough to be an adventurer.


    ¡°Wait, I think I recognize that name.¡± The [Berserker] piped up. He wore little more than hide armor, his legs bare and covered with tattoos. His face bore an enormous scar that stretched from his left cheek down to his chest. ¡°Yer tha one the [Guards] were discussin¡¯!¡±


    Balin blushed a bit, but stuck his chest out proudly. ¡°Aye, I¡¯ve heard that.¡±


    ¡°The one that fought the Stoneant Warriors? Och, you¡¯ll fit right in here, then!¡± The [Wizard] chuckled.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have space fer him.¡± The [Doctor] grouched.


    ¡°Aw shove off! I just wanted to introduce ¡®im. He¡¯s going to join one of the new teams.¡± Tania smacked the white robed [Healer] on the shoulder.


    Balin nodded. ¡°Captain Morris wanted ta¡¯ pair me up with his daughter¡¯s team.¡±


    ¡°<i>Brightstar</i>?¡± The [Berzerker] mumbled. ¡°Aye, they were lookin¡¯ fer a meat-shield. If what I¡¯ve heard is true, you¡¯d fit the bill. [Knight] right? That¡¯ll fit in perfectly with those uptight - *ahem* - What made ya decide to be an adventurer anyway?¡±


    Balin frowned. ¡°Aye, I¡¯m a [Knight]. As fer why I¡¯m here, it¡¯s ¡®cause someone recently tried ta mess with ma¡¯ family. Between that and the false rm with tha¡¯ monster stampede, I¡¯m sick o¡¯ my kin bein¡¯ threatened. I¡¯m goin¡¯ to get strong enough, and famous enough, that nobody wille near ''em again!¡± His voice pitched lower as he spoke, his voice and demeanor shifting to a simmering anger.


    The truth was, with the amount of money they were making, the Thirsty Goat could now afford to hire carpenters. His skills with a saw weren¡¯t <i>necessary </i>any longer. Yet each day he sat with a hammer in hand, ignoring the power within his Title and [Golden Armour]. It was a waste of a mighty gift, and he¡¯d finally had enough. He spoke with Annie, and the two of them agreed: The likelihood that the Guild of Brewers, or some other ne¡¯er do well, would try to sabotage their work in the future was high. However, if he became a named adventurer? Nobody Fueded with a n that had one of those.


    So here he was, joining a party of dwarves he¡¯d never met. To stand at the front as they pushed into the deadly dangers of the dungeon.


    ¡°Yer in the right ce. If you can survive long enough to make it count!¡± The [Wizard] chuckled. He took a swig from a bottle and Balin jolted as he realized it was a bottle of Thirsy Goat¡¯s <i>New Brew</i>. ¡°You can see what yer¡¯ future holds on tha board over there! Grab a job or two! Don¡¯t ferget to read tha¡¯ notices, they¡¯ll save yer life!¡± He pointed at a wall spanning cork board. It was covered with posters, leaflets, parchments, and various odds and ends. A crowd milled in front of it, and every so often someone would reach up to rip a piece of paper off the wall and take it to the front desk.


    ¡°You¡¯d better not be drunk when we hit the dungeon¡­¡± Tania scowled.


    ¡°Rx, it¡¯ll be at least an hour before we get there.¡± The [Wizard] made a shooing motion. ¡°Go get the newbie signed in.¡±


    ¡°You lot keep an eye on him.¡± She pointed at the [Wizard]. ¡°Balin,e with me, we need to go get you registered.¡±


    She led Balin to the enormous front desk. A dozen connected booths stretched floor to ceiling, each containing a uniform d clerk. The adventuring guild uniform was a ck-and-red-checkered studded leather affair, notable for the enormous feather each clerk wore in their basc helmet.


    Upon notifying the clerk of his intention to join the Adventuring Guild, Balin was required to provide ID, fill several forms out in triplicate, and then provide a bit of his blood for an adventurer¡¯s tag. He performed all the tasks with his usual quiet enthusiasm, and was partway through reading a waiver that absolved the Adventuring Guild of all fault if he died in the dungeon, when there was amotion at the front door.


    A panting dwarf ran into the hall and made his way to the board. He wore a uniform that marked him as a page from City Hall, and amotion sprang up as adventurers noticed his presence. A request from City Hall usually paid very well, and fighting over who couldplete it first wasn¡¯t umon. Then there was the possibility that it was a notification or warning.


    The page nailed his notification to the board and then left posthaste, leaving a rapidly increasing circle of curious onlookers.


    ¡°What is it?¡± A burly dwarf in chainmail shouted.


    ¡°It¡¯s a notification from Kinsasha!¡± A gnome shouted. The hubbub grew in intensity at that.


    ¡°What¡¯s this got to do with us?¡± A half naked dwarf wielding a broadsword grumbled.


    A gnomish [Wizard] in a pointy hat scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s probably going up at every message board in the city. There¡¯s nothing special about <i>you, </i>idjit.¡±


    Balin walked forward and began reading the notice as a fight broke out. As he read, his eyes grew wide.


    <strong>Attention Citizens of Crack!</strong>


    The King seeks his greatest Brewers to take part in apetition that will shake the foundations of Crack!


    Few are the Guilds of Brewers within our borders, but fewer are those that have risen to the top. Which Guild has the greatest brewer within the dwarven kingdoms?


    The octamillenial is the perfect opportunity to reveal how well we have kept the traditions of our ancestors. Or perhaps, how much we have advanced with the gifts they gave us!


    Given eight thousand years, which brewery has truly perfected the art of Brewing?


    Starting in six months, each city shall hold a contest whereby all the brewers willpete for the title of best brewery. Each Guild will select up to eight breweries topete from among their members, and the City Lord will judge them.


    The top Brewery in each city will be invited to Kinsasha, where a brewery and pub will be provided to them. In return, they will be expected to provide the citizens of the Capital with their top-quality brews. The final contest will take ce over six months in a series of Feuds leading up to the final contest. The winning Brewery will be the official Royal Brewer of Crack!


    Brewers, make your country proud!¡±


    ¡°Huh, think yer¡¯ buddies might want to take a crack at that?¡± Tania muttered beside him, ¡°Can they, with you not being members o¡¯ tha guild anymore?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­¡± Balin grinned. ¡°Pete can probably figure something out.¡±

 End of Book 1 Thoughts

    <h4>End of Book 1 Thoughts</h4>


    Well, this has been an adventure! What originally started as an fruitless search for dwarf-lit after a game of deep rock gctic has turned into something a bit bigger than I expected! I want to give a huge thanks to several people that were involved in the making of book 1!!


    My darling wife, Mystic Neptune, whose journey into publishing was what gave me the idea "why don''t I just write my own damn dwarf story", and who supported me with child-care and editing over these crazy past months.


    My beta readers, current and past! You all know who you are, and this wouldn''t have been possible without you! You rock!


    My cute 3yo daughter who somehow managed to auto-rece every instance of the word "word" in my final manuscript with "%460nome%" . That was a fun note from the editor.


    My Patrons! Whose loyal support has made my writing turn from just something fun to something fun that <i>also </i>pays for my daughter''s swim lessons, dance lessons, summer camps, etc. etc. etc.


    My Mom, who was so amazed that I had 1000 views (It''s a million Mom, bless your heart), and my Dad, who is still trying to get me to like Guinness.


    My publisher Aethon Books, whose advance paid for my kitchen flood repairs.


    And finally, all you lot, my loyal readers, who have sat through the first 80+ chapters of B&B and hopefully will be around for the next nned... 320 or so. That''s right, Pete''s journey has every book and the ending all nned out! Now we just need to get there.


    If you''ve been enjoying B&B please remember to follow, and ratings and advanced reviews are especially wee! If you have any questions, feel free to drop them in thements and I''ll get to them as I can.


    Cheers all! See you on Wednesday!

 Book 1 Changes - Read this before starting Book 2!

    <h4>Book 1 Changes - Read this before starting Book 2!</h4>


    <strong>Here are some of the major edits to book 1!</strong>


    <strong>Octa Millenial!</strong> Somebody on RR pointed out that the decamillenium shouldn''t be important given that everything is in eights! They were right! So, the deca-millenial has been changed to the Octa-Millenial! 8000 years vs 10,000 is pretty much the same to us humans, so not much of a difference there.


    <strong>Minnova Reform Mine!</strong> The name of the Minnova Prison Mine has been changed to Minnova Reform Mine. Its stated purpose is still pretty much the same, to help down on their luck dwarves and/or minor criminals get reformed. It may sound simr but they have very different tones, and in a cozy genre book like beers and beards, tone is important. Almost nothing changes in the book as a result since it still <i>feels </i>like a prison to Pete, but the general feeling in the mine changed to one of growth and learning, and now the parties make a lot more sense!


    <strong>Stats! </strong>Pete''s stats have been fine tuned, and I added a couple more quests to the book. This has resulted in an increase of stats across the board, and Pete will update everyone on his new stats at the start of book 2.


    <strong>What stats mean! </strong>A young teenager in Erd will now average out at around 8 across the board, and every 4 is now an increase of 1.5 times. That means an adult with a strength of 12 will have about 1.5 times higher strength than a teenager. Stats now max out at 32. I felt that was about right and lets me have a fantasy level progression without reaching DBZ levels. A max strength dwarf will be about 12 times stronger than an average 12 year old. That tracks, and makes any magical strength above that really *pop*.


    <strong>The Boulder!</strong> is an actual character from Avatar and using him was iffy, so THE BOULDER!! is now THE STONER! I got to add some fun quips about that, let me tell you! It''s now safely parody.


    <strong>More songs! </strong>I added more original mining songs to volume 1, and n to keep doing so for volume 2.


    <strong>100% More Dwarf Tossing! </strong>I''m not sure on the exact numbers, but I tried to make it 100% more for the final draft. Did you know dwarf tossing was almost illegal in Canada?


    <strong>Tim! </strong>Tim got toned the eff down. His powers are much more an addition to a swindling set rather than mind control. They have clearer limitations and are an aid rather than doing straight mind wiping etc. There''s still some stat maniption involving wisdom theft, but it feels more systemy now. The chapters have been re-written a bit to reflect this, and ording to beta readers the entire mine section just feels much cleaner and happier now.


    <strong>Extra Chapters!</strong> A few extra chapters were added to flesh things out in the mine and add a bit more ''cozy''. Bran has a much bigger presence in the first half now! It worked out to about an extra 10,000+ words.


    <strong>Pub Food!</strong> As part of my edits, using the Sacred Brew in something as mundane as FOOD has been added to the list of dwarven Taboos. It helped make Bran an eager conspirator instead of a willing participant.


    <strong>Pete''s Motivations! </strong>Pete has clearer motivations now. I can''t really describe them in a few short paragraphs, but Pete has tied himself to his quest for better beer a bit more clearly and cleanly in the final edit.

 Book 2 - Prologue

    <h4>Book 2 - Prologue</h4>


    The Adventurer¡¯s Guild in the dwarven city of Minnova was bustling, and there was an eager air that always came with a crop of new adventurers.


    Greentree had just undergone a Boss Shift, and the dungeon was ripe for fresh teams to learn the ropes. Monsters were most dangerous in theirirs, and it would take at least another year for the disced denizens of the dungeon to settle into new territories.


    Therge open hall was dominated by an enormous notice board on one wall. A collection of administrative booths sat opposite, and a cafeteria style bar took up most of the back wall.


    The floor was covered in tables, each staked out by an adventuring team enjoying their favourite libations from the bar. Laughter and good naturedpetition could be heard throughout, alongside the asional sound of belching and - more recently - the odd bit of loud tulence.


    At one such table the up-anding adventuring team Brightstar was resting after a sessful dungeon dive. The group of four were a bit banged up and made an eclectic tableau.


    A brown-bearded dwarfess in a high-quality leather gambeson in the middle of lecturing a teammate.


    A balding gnome in overalls bent over his tools and asionally swearing.


    A lumberjack bearded dwarf with a handlebar moustache digging through a medicine kit.


    A brown-skinned South Erdian gnomess in a white robe watching the bar carefully.


    ¡°You¡¯re still holding your shield too high, Balin. It¡¯s giving you a blindspot below your waist.¡± The brown-bearded dwarfess said in a tone of serious critique. Her prim and proper attire and oiled gambeson were entuated by a pencil moustache and anchor beard. Starshine Morris was well known around the Guild as the hard-nosed daughter of the Chief Guard of Minnova.


    Balin Roughtuff looked up from where he was applying salve to a cut on his knee. ¡°I think I learned me lesson, Starshine. Just give me a few more weeks of fightin¡¯ fer my life against deadly vegetables and I¡¯ll be an expert.¡±


    ¡°Give the dwarf a break, Starshine. He¡¯s doing great for someone who was a simple carpenter in a reform mine justst year." The gnome in engineering coveralls muttered from where he was fiddling with a collection of broken ss on the table. He wiggled his white toothbrush-moustache, adjusted a pair of goggles and swore. ¡°Barck¡¯s Bloody Beard!¡±


    ¡°First tha mine, then tha brewery, then tha brewpub, then tha dungeon.¡± Balin sighed. ¡°It¡¯s been a long year.¡±


    "Just wait till you''re over three hundred." The gnome chuckled. "The years whizz by and you¡¯ll miss when they were ¡®long¡¯."


    "If ya say so, Flowerpott." Balin shrugged.


    The gnomess in the white robe pointed to the bar. ¡°Herees Raysdotter with our drinks. Ray-ray! Over here!¡± Aishablue''s voice was a bright alto that Balin¡¯s brother Pete had once described as ¡®vaguely Punjabi¡¯.


    ¡°Hooee! That was a rough run, eh!¡± A dwarfess in shining ck leather armour plunked a trio of beer mugs down on the table. Her beard was as ck as her armour, and shaped in a carefully manicured Garibaldi style. ¡°Yer coffee will be a bit, Ai, and Flowerpott - get all that Godsdamn ss off the table!¡±


    ¡°I have to finish this ssfly! If <i>you </i>want golem air support, then<i> I</i> need dwarven emotional support!¡± The gnome shot back.


    ¡°This is why people think we¡¯re weird!¡± Raysdotterined as she plunked down into an empty seat next to Balin. She jostled him as she did so, and his finger jabbed into the small wound.


    ¡°Ach, that stings!¡± Balin hissed. ¡°Can ya not just give me a [Minor Blessin¡¯ of Regeneration] Raysdotter?


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, ya big baby.¡± Raysdotter patted Balin on the shoulder.


    ¡°Learning to handle pain in a safe environment like this will help you handle it inbat.¡± Starshine said with conviction.


    ¡°Now <i>that¡¯s</i> weird.¡± Flowerpott smirked.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know it¡¯s an epted bit of dungeoneering!¡± Starshine shot back. The two were soon bickering over the esotera of pain and agony while Raysdotter interrupted every once in a while with gorey tidbits. A pair of dwarves walking past gave them horrified looks and backed away.


    Aishablue sighed. ¡°No¡­ <i>that </i>is why people think we¡¯re weird.¡±


    ¡°I wouldnae worry.¡± Balin said good naturedly. ¡°Everyone knows that any kind o¡¯ fame is good fame when ites to the adventurin'' life.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of which, how <i>are </i>you finding the adventuring life with Brightstar, Balin?" She replied. "Is it more - or less - stressful than the Thirsty Goat Brewpub? I imagine things must be pretty crazy there after the Feud.¡±


    Balin nodded. ¡°Aye. Pete is part-owner of it now. Between tha Thirsty Goat and his business with Whistlemop, he''s swamped.¡±


    ¡°Is your brother nning to enter that Octamillenial Beer Competition thing?¡± Aishablue pointed towards a yellowing piece of paper sitting forgotten on the notice board.


    ¡°Mebbe. But since its tha start o¡¯ tha new year, he and Annie are fightin¡¯ with somethin¡¯ even more terrifyin¡¯ than any monster in Greentree.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    Balin replied in a hushed tone full of fear and repressed memories. ¡°<i>Taxes.¡±</i>

 Book 2: Chapter 1: The Tax Man Cometh

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 1: The Tax Man Cometh</h4>


    I, Peter Roughtuff, co-owner of Whistlemop¡¯s Wonders and the Thirsty Goat Brewpub, reincarnated human from Canada, and Chosen Shaker of the God Barck, was having a bad day.


    A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The kind people wrote children¡¯s books about. My beard was frizzing, a goat had eaten half my breakfast, and my office was being attacked by a horrible monster that spoke in arcane riddles. A sphinx that taxed my patience and my business. I was on the <i>Highway to Hell</i>.


    ¡°If you¡¯d please examine Column B on Form #244A2 you¡¯ll see that the numbers from Columns C and Y on Form #244A1 have been added incorrectly.¡± The gnome seated in front of me pointed at a column filled with math, which looked identical to all the other columns and pages filled with math. ¡°The number is far too high, and it is increasing your tax bracket considerably.¡±


    For the tenth time today, I considered pointing out that as the Chosen of a God, I had deity bestowed duties involving the brewing of alcohol to get to. And for the tenth time today, I dismissed it as a terrible n - no matter how delicious it would be to watch the egghead from City Hall fall over in shock.


    ¡°Hello? Here?¡± The white haired gnome in a in-grey pinstripe business suit pointed insistently at the page.


    I dragged myself closer and peered at it bleary-eyed. We¡¯d been at this for a couple days already, and I was close to being driven to drink. A feat, considering the horrid taste of dwarven brew.


    ¡°Looks like numbers.¡± I muttered.


    The gnome, an actual Titled [ountant] named Silverpen sighed. ¡°Mr. Roughtuff, I understand this is your first time performing business taxes in the country of Crack. That is partly why City Hall has assigned me in particr to your case. I assure you that with a little more effort the forms are more than easy to understand. Here, [Bestow rity].¡±


    A blue box popped into my vision with a *Bing!*


    <strong>Milestone Used</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>An [ountant] is trying to grant you the [Calm] Condition.</i>


    <i><strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong></i>


    <i> Yes/No</i>


    I hit yes and another box popped up. *Bing!*


    <strong>Condition Gained: [Calm]!</strong>


    <i>You have gained the [Calm] Condition!</i>


    I felt the tension drain out of my temples, and the world snapped into focus.


    I looked around my desk in the small corner office of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub. Every inch of it was covered in paperwork, and there were even piles on the floor that reached my knee. Ugh, what a mess. Maybe I could let Penelope handle it? She¡¯d eat all this math right up. Literally, just like my breakfast. She was the finest pilfering goat I¡¯d ever met.


    Back in the Okanagan, I¡¯d left everything to my ountant, Jebediah. Between him and all the fancy tax tools provided by the Canadian government, tax time was easy - if annoyingly expensive. My dear Caroline always said that I was a bit of a grizzly bear during tax time, but who wasn¡¯t?


    In dwarven society, everyone had to get a yearly audit. A <i>yearly</i>, <i>freaking</i>, <i>audit </i>- for the bigpanies, anyway. And with my business empire stretching to include nearly all the bottle-making in Minnova, a chunk of the local beer business, and a thriving brewpub, I counted as big enough. ording to Silverpen, my taxes were ¡®extra exciting¡¯ because they involved two entirely disparate businesses. Furthermore, a significant portion of it was owed to the city for licensing their coat of arms, as well as for owning a Main Store in the local Grand Market.


    I¡¯d begged Annie to help me with it, but she¡¯d refused. She had ¡®important business to attend to regarding personnel hiring in the brewpub¡¯ and I ¡®needed the experience.¡¯ I didn¡¯t need [Truespeech] like Aqua to know that was a load of baloney. She just wanted to watch me squirm. <i>She</i> didn¡¯t get an audit, as the Thirsty Goat Brewpub alone wasn¡¯t quite big enough to warrant one. I know Whistlemop did, and my weasley little business partner had spent thest month trying to bury his money in tax-deductible investments. He was looking forward to seeing how much stayed hidden from his auditor. I¡¯d been too preupied to do so, and was now paying the price.


    All told, I was going to be paying well over half of my considerable ie in taxes.


    I took a deep breath and used this precious moment of [Calm] to focus on the task at hand. Well, that and my handy dandy Ability [Mental Maths], which gave me an additional four points to intelligence when doing math.


    I pointed at the column Silverpen had circled. ¡°That number isbined from Columns C and Y, but it <i>also </i>includes Column A from Form #13325. Here.¡± I leafed through the papers on my desk and passed one to the nerdy gnome.


    He took it with a look of slight surprise and read it over. ¡°Fascinating. I¡¯ve never actually met someone with ie from a City Indenture Early Release before. My goodness, this is quite a lot of gold. What on Erd did you make, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡±


    ¡°The city of Minnova is currently in the midst of a <i>boomin¡¯ </i>trade in Boomdust thanks to yours truly.¡± I knocked my fist against my chest in a dwarven salute. It *tunked* against the leather padding inside my armoured suit. Even after two years, I still wasn¡¯t quite used to the dwarven penchant for wearing armour everywhere.


    ¡°Ah, that new mining technique I heard about from ounting? That was you?¡± Silverpen gave an appreciative nod. ¡°That¡¯s been very lucrative for the city. I understand there is now arge bounty up on Fireash treants. They¡¯re bing scarce at the edges of Greentree. Hmmm¡­ [Sense Errors]. No, even with the additional ie the form is still incorrect.¡±


    I groaned. ¡°How?¡±


    Silverpen shrugged. ¡°Likely a missing form, or an incorrect value on another page. [Sense Iplete].¡± He scanned the piles of paper and grabbed several of them at seemingly random - his Ability had probably pointed them out as relevant. ¡°Yes, see here? You haven¡¯t filled out Column F on form #13324 to indicate your status as an indentured miner in the City of Minnova Reform Mine at the start ofst year. The ie on your form #13325 is your <i</i> ie after taxes. All monies received as part of the City Indenture Early Release are taxed at a t rate by the city before they are transferred to the recipient.¡±


    I took that in and then stared at the page in shock. ¡°That¡¯s the gold <i>after </i>taxes!?¡±


    Silverpen nodded. ¡°Yes. Congrattions.¡±


    I stared in shock at the page. There were¡­ a lot of zeros on it.


    <strong>Condition Lost: [Calm]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>You have lost the [Calm] Condition!</i>


    Silverpen lifted my limp hand and put a pen in it. ¡°If you would just initial here, indicating eptance of the change to Column B we can move on to your holdings in the Grand Market.¡±


    ¡ª


    Two dayster I was finally free. Once Silverpen realised I was ¡®new money¡¯ and verified my ¡®amnesia¡¯ with City Hall records he was pleased as punch to give me a full runthrough in ounting.


    I wasn¡¯t going to turn down free lessons from an expert, and I learned more about dwarven ounting in the past couple days than I had in six months with Richter and Whistlemop. It had been <i>taxing</i> but totally worth it. Nyuck.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send you a note when the funds clear from the bank.¡± Silverpen said as he packed up his leather briefcase.


    ¡°Thanks again for all your help,¡± I opened the door of the office for the dapper [ountant], ¡°and I hope City Hall enjoys the piles and piles of gold I¡¯m sendin¡¯ them. Sorry that you got stuck with me fer so long.¡±


    ¡°I must admit that I had a bit of influence in my appointment here,¡± Silverpen coughed, ¡°I¡¯m a bit of a drinker myself, and I was interested in meeting the dwarf causing so many waves in the gnomish and drinkingmunities.¡±


    ¡°Eh? Howso?¡± I paused. As far as I knew the majority of our clientele were dwarves. Gnomes simply weren¡¯t a fan of the thin and sour taste of dwarven True Brew ale. I couldn¡¯t me them. Some of them liked the Light Brewger, but we didn¡¯t make that here.


    ¡°Well you see, Mr. Roughtuff, when you¡¯re quite a bit shorter than the average dwarf you <i>notice</i> when there¡¯s a sudden increase of tulence around the city. You¡¯re a bit of a ck sheep after the Ass-ster Ale incident I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Ohhhhh! Yearns Yams, I¡¯m so sorry!¡± Oh dear Gods, I hadn¡¯t even thought of that! I¡¯d just been so happy with how well the Brewer¡¯s Guild Feud went!


    Silverpen actually chuckled, ¡°Regardless, Minnova appreciates your hard work, and I personally look forward to seeing what new things you invent Mr. Roughtuff. Between the Boomdust, the Ass-ster, and the bottles sweeping through the Brewer¡¯s Guild you¡¯ve had quite the influence on our fair city in one short year.¡±


    I smiled, my consternation momentarily forgotten, ¡°Ah yes, quite the influence.¡±


    I pulled up a quest that had been aggravating me for the past month.


    <strong>New Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 1,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i>Dwarves Influenced: 365,467/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]</i>


    As I watched, the count ticked up by a pathetic single dwarf. After rising like a rocket for several months following the release of our New Brew, it looked like I hadpletely tapped out the Minnova beer market. I hadn¡¯t quite gotten 100% of Minnova¡¯s poption, but I suspected that every impressionable dwarf was influenced at this point. I needed to cast a wider or I was never going to get that manasight ability!!! It was time to think about cross-country shipping, and I wanted to try using [Refine Brew] on a few new magic ingredients to see if that helped.


    I also have a great idea for my first ¡®real magic¡¯ brew, and I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ll be able to get the magical diagrams right after one or two more lessons with Richter. I¡¯d even gotten a bonus intelligence out of my lessons with him, alongside a couple additional boosts from some quests and hard work as well. All told, my character sheet looked pretty good!


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong><i>Name:</i></strong><i> Peter Roughtuff</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Age:</i></strong><i> 50</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Conditions:</i></strong><i> [Blessed]</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Race:</i></strong><i> Dwarf</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Blessings</i></strong><i>: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Title:</i></strong><i> [Otherworldly Brewer]</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Milestones:</i></strong><i> [Power Pick], [Basic sh</i><i>], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Bottomless Barrel]</i>


    <strong><i>Strength:</i></strong><i> 15.4</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Vitality:</i></strong><i> 19 [23]</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Agility: </i></strong><i>12</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Dexterity:</i></strong><i> 13</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Wisdom: </i></strong><i>14.4</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Intelligence:</i></strong><i> 14</i><i></i>


    <strong><i>Perception: </i></strong><i>18.2</i><i></i>


    <i></i><strong><i>Charisma: </i></strong><i>15</i>


    No more Milestones unfortunately, but I could feel it in my bones that I was getting close to getting some more!


    I was really starting to notice the difference of a higher perception and charisma - especially when it came to interpersonal rtionships. I always seemed to know the right thing to say, and I could spot small inconsistencies and lies much more easily.


    For example, from the way Silverpen was shifting from foot to foot and making slight nces in my direction, I could tell he either A) needed to leave to use the bathroom, B) was attracted to me and working up the courage to confess, or C) wanted a favour but was afraid of asking. Option C was the most likely, unless Silverpen had a dashing and debonair dwarf fetish I was unaware of.


    I decided to make things a little easier on him, ¡°You''ve been an amazing help, Silverpen, and I really appreciate the time you took to teach me the ropes. If there¡¯s any way I can make it up to you let me know.¡±


    Silverpen¡¯s face grew gaunt, ¡°I am unable to ept bribes Mr. Roughtuff, or ept anything that could call my impartiality into question.¡±


    ¡°Of course! I wasn¡¯t thinking of anything so crude as a bribe! However, if I could get you a bottle of beer as you leave, or a piece of our memorabilia, surely no-one would begrudge you something like that.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately the Ordinances are quite clear that City Hall employees cannot receive anything with a mary value exceeding a single gold.¡± Silverpen fidgeted, ¡±However, I would be interested in one thing¡­¡±


    ¡°Feel free to ask, I¡¯m happy to provide just about anything.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s small, but I noticed it while we were sitting in your office, and I¡¯ve been desperate to get my hands on it for a while now¡­¡±


    Wow, with a line like that I really, really, hoped it wasn¡¯t Option B.

 Book 2: Chapter 2: Resume Duties

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 2: Resume Duties</h4>


    ¡°Thank you so much, Mr. Roughtuff! Something like this shouldn¡¯t cause any problems. It¡¯s only of sentimental value, really. A lovely little loophole.¡± Silverpen clutched his prize tightly.


    I smiled back. Poor naive egghead. That autograph from the gnomish pro-drinker Beatbox was probably going to be worth significantly more than a single gold piece sometime down the line. They were still free while it drove traffic to the Thirsty Goat Brewpub, but we were going to start charging for them eventually. The autograph in question was also one of the <i>numbered</i> ones - #1 in fact, and dated to the day of thepetition. I¡¯d gotten one from each of the pro-drinking crowd who¡¯de to the afterparty. Namely Chuck, Tania, Rumbob, Beatbox and whatshisface¡­ John?


    No, Jim. That was it.


    ¡°I¡¯m d I was able to repay you properly. Feel free toe by the brewpub any time for some drinks. Beatbox is usually in here on Solday and Miday.¡±


    I was pretty sure that was right. It had taken a surprisingly long time for me to make the mental switch to naming the days of the week in Erd after the Erdian Gods instead of the Norse Gods like back on Earth. Solday was¡­ the middle of the week, and Miday was the Erdian equivalent of a Saturday.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll be quite busy for at least the next month with audits. Thank you for the information though.¡± Silverpen held out his fist and we bumped knuckles in a traditional dwarven farewell.


    I walked him out into the lushly appointed foyer of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub. The room was well furnished with wooden walls and rafters and plush green carpet. Some fairly standard solstonemps gave a bright, cheery yellow glow to everything. The Brewpub had spent the first five or six thousand years of its life as a brewery run by the Goldstone family, which was why the walls were adorned with ancient Goldstone family paraphernalia alongside newer racks of gleaming bottles and Ass-ster swag.


    Johnsson looked over at us from where he was manning - <i>dwarfing</i> the counter. Casks lined the wall behind him, though most of them were empty; business was good. Johnsson¡¯s blonde beard was done up in braids with bows today and his outfit had actual rhinestones in it. John¡¯s son had the most <i>fabulous</i> wardrobe, and I still needed to schedule a date with him for clothes shopping.


    ¡°Hey Pete.¡± he waved.


    ¡°Hey Johnsson, where¡¯s Aqua? Shouldn¡¯t she be dwarfin¡¯ tha front?¡±


    ¡°Nah, she had ta leave early. Somethin¡¯ up with her pappy.¡±


    ¡°You know, I still haven¡¯t met Tom.¡± I grumbled, ¡°Wasn¡¯t he supposed to be helping with the taxes around here? Honestly, I¡¯m not even sure he really exists.¡±


    ¡°What!? You¡¯ve seen him at brewing time haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I have¡­ but we¡¯ve never spoken, and every time I try to meet him Annie changes the subject or distracts me.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Johnsson¡¯s eyes flicked up slightly to the left, ¡°He¡¯s often busy with things. Ask Aqua?¡±


    A lie, for some reason. I added that little mystery to my long list of chores.


    ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t really matter. We¡¯re done doing the taxes now, Silverpen was just leaving.¡±


    Silverpen nodded graciously, ¡°Indeed. Thank you for your hospitality Johnsson, those meals you brought us were divine!¡±


    Johnsson waved the praise away, ¡°I just brought the food, Bran¡¯s the one you¡¯ll want to thank.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense! Every second of work is valuable, no matter how inconsequential. That¡¯s what makes the machine move! You¡¯re a hard worker and a credit to your n, young dwarf.¡±


    Johnsson blushed. ¡°Well then, thank you sir.¡±


    We finished off our goodbyes and Silverpen absconded, but only after promising to see me again next year. Uggghhh.


    I leaned on the counter and buried my head in my hands. Finally done!


    Johnsson came alongside and patted my back, ¡°Congrattions on finishing yer audit, Pete!¡±


    ¡°Thanks Johnsson. Where¡¯s Annie?¡±


    ¡°She actually told me to tell you to meet her in the brewpub when yer done.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Don¡¯t we open soon?¡±


    ¡°Aye, but she¡¯s got the first round of names ready.¡±


    ¡°Huzzah!¡±


    ¡ª


    The Thirsty Goat Brewpub hadn¡¯t changed too much since our grand opening. A tall room with a wooden ceiling and an enormous painting of a white goat on one of the cherry brick walls. The caprid was drinking from a tankard, and was obviously drunk.


    Booths lined the walls, and a series of four-dwarf pic tables took up most of the floorspace. Arge wooden bar took up one whole corner, with a kitchen space behind it. A framed painting of Penelope sat behind the bar next to the transom window into the kitchen, along with a mishmash of paintings depicting pro-drinkers and localndscapes.


    I came to a stop in front of the pic table Annie had spread out on. There was significantly less paper than I¡¯d been dealing with for the past week, but it was still enough that the table waspletely covered. Annie was skimming through them while humming a song I recognized as Rasperrysyrups hit single <i>Like a Greenbeard</i> - or rather, Madonna¡¯s hit single <i>Like a Virgin. </i>Aqua must have been rubbing off on her.


    ¡°You look well rested,¡± I growled, ¡±had a good week?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Annie stretched, her long straight blonde locks spilling past her waist. Her beard was of a simr shimmering gold, and she absentmindedlybed it with her fingers. ¡°It¡¯s been a bit hard with one of our workers so selfishly absent. I can¡¯t wait to hire someone actually reliable.¡±


    ¡°I spent thast week stuck in hell - I mean tha Nether - and you know it.¡±


    ording to a <i>very intense</i> conversation I¡¯d had with the God Barckst year, hell actually did exist in other worlds. This universe had a cycle of reincarnation instead of heaven and hell, so the worst celestial punishment was to have your soul cut from the karmic cycle and shunted into the unknowable Nothingness of the Nether. I wasn¡¯t sure which was worse, eternal damnation or forever alone.


    ¡°Excuses, excuses. <i>I</i> finished my taxes a week ago. It only took <i>me</i> an afternoon. Brains <i>and</i> beauty - I¡¯m theplete package. Isn¡¯t Balin lucky he¡¯s marrying me?¡±


    ¡°Puh-leeze, you had Aqua helping you the entire time!¡±


    ¡°And <i>you </i>had a Titled [ountant]. Maybe you should have gotten a blue-haired minx to help you instead of a grey-moustached mister."


    ¡°Harumph.¡± I plunked down on the bench next to her, ¡°What have we got?¡±


    ¡°Too many, actually.¡± Annie waved over the papers, ¡°I think our poprity is a bit of a double edged sword. We have a lot of great applicants, but it¡¯s difficult to separate out those that want to work and those that are just in it for the bragging rights¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that pile over there?¡± I pointed at a tall pile of papers on the other end of the table.


    ¡°Those are resumes from people without Titles. We have so many applicants that we can afford to be choosy, and that was the easiest criteria.¡±


    ¡°Oof. One hundred years of brewpub experience required, eh?¡±


    ¡°Almost nobody is going to have a hundred years of brewpub experience, Pete. The only brewpubs in Minnova are Drum¡¯s <i>Rusty Battleaxe </i>and our <i>Thirsty Goat</i>. A Title just guarantees a hard worker that enjoys their craft.¡±


    ¡°So the job requires experience that doesn''t exist? Sounds exactly right.¡±


    ¡°Is this an Earth joke?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it is, but it¡¯s less a funny ¡®ha ha¡¯ and more a funny ¡®sob sob¡¯.¡±


    The only dwarves on Erd that knew about my secret past as a human from Earth were my brother-by-choice - the fabulously moustached adventurer Balin Roughtuff, and his betrothed - Annie Goldstone. They were my two closest friends, family, and confidants in this new world, and I shuddered to imagine where I would be without them. Plus, Annie was the reincarnation of the First Brewer, and that was super cool. Not that I¡¯d ever tell her that.


    Annie regarded me for a moment while she tapped her fingers on the solid wooden table, ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve lost me.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter.¡± I pulled the stack of pages over and leafed through it, ¡°Are ya sure that we aren¡¯t losin¡¯ any good people in this pile? Someone who would be a better fit even without a Title? How about if they just have a single Godly Blessing? They might get that second Blessing pretty quick given how fast we seem ta get them around here.¡±


    ¡°I thought about it. That¡¯s why the pile you¡¯re leafing through is the people with Blessings. Everyone else is in the pile over there.¡± she pointed over at the bar and my eyesnded upon an enormous mound of papers. Penelope was grazing through it, munching contentedly.


    *Meeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Their rejection is a delicious spice and their tears are gravy.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a lot. Point taken.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯re starting with the short pile, which is everyone with a Title, and then moving to everyone with a single Blessing. If all of those are a bust we move back to the big pile.¡±


    I pointed to where Penelope was tearing a sheet apart, ¡°If there¡¯s any left.¡±


    Annie shrugged, ¡°It just means they¡¯ll need the luck of Barck to work here.¡±


    ¡°Fair, so who have we got?¡±


    ¡°The first is actually just a confirmation of Beatbox¡¯s daughter, Lemontwist. Bran hired her to help him in the kitchen, and we never made it permanent.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the gnomish girl with the blonde hair who keeps trying to set me up with you?¡±


    Annie sighed, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the one. I me your little warcry at the Beer Brawl.¡±


    ¡°I like her! And more importantly, she does a good job in the kitchen. Alright, you''ve <i>t</i>wisted my tail, she can stay.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, I¡¯ll give Bran the good news. Next, we have four Titled people to look over. First is this one.¡± Annie passed me another page and I looked it over. It was done up on thick off-white paper in excruciatingly beautiful calligraphed dwarven runic script.


    ¡°Wow, this is a work of art!¡± I eximed.


    ¡°Yes, I noticed it right away. She used at least one Ability to make it, probably more.¡±


    The resume was for a dwarfess by the name of Pazmin Gemsdotter. Her work experience included several decades as a librarian at one of the local libraries. Pazmin was a Titled [Psychometer], and could talk to inanimate manufactured objects. The only reason I knew that was because I¡¯d been involved with one through Whistlemop. That seemed like a really neat Ability for a librarian! Imagine asking a book what it contained, or being able to walk through the stacks and asking the books directly ¡®Is anybody in the wrong shelf?¡¯


    I paused as I read her name again, it seemed familiar, ¡°Wait¡­ I think I recognize this name. Pazmin¡­ Pazmin¡­ yeah, she¡¯s a librarian at the branch Richter and I usually go to!¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Annie leaned over to look at the page.


    ¡°Aye, she and Uric threw us out of the library during the beer-bottle incident!¡±


    ¡°Was that anything like the noodle incident?¡±


    ¡°You remember that? No.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes Bran mutters dark things about pruno - ¡°


    ¡°We <i>DON¡¯T </i>talk about pruno.¡± I interrupted, ¡°It was when Richter, Aqua, and Balin pranked me by pretending to go crazy over the bottle-conditioned beer.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes.¡± Annie smiled and then her gaze grew cloudy. Right, that day had not been very kind to the Goldstone n, given how Annie¡¯s father had betrayed her for the Brewer¡¯s Guild. Time to change the subject.


    ¡°She isn¡¯t very sociable though. She¡¯s apetent librarian, and talking to the dishes is kind of neat, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯d be a good fit for the front of house.¡±


    ¡°Denied then?¡±


    I nodded, ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±


    Annie grinned. ¡°Read this one next. His name is Jack Thornsson¡±


    She passed me another sheet. It was crinkly and had terrible hand-writing, but it was extremely exciting. Literally.


    ¡°He used the word desperate and excited at least two dozen times. And did he capitalize every other word in here? ¡±


    ¡°Just the important ones!¡±


    ¡°What style of writing is this? I can barely read it and I have an Ability that helps me withnguages.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a more traditional form of runic. They still use it in the backcountry.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a ¡®goatboy¡¯? I have no cultural context. Is there a goatman too? Do they fight crime?¡±


    ¡°What? It¡¯s like a goatherd, except while the goatherd simply herds goats, a goatboy speaks to them directly.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so does his [Therian] Title mean¨C !?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Annie grinned. ¡°He can talk to goats, and take on some of their aspects!¡±


    ¡°Hey, neat! So are we going with him? It seems like a perfect fit for the <i>Thirsty Goat</i> to have an actual *heh* goatboy - wow what a word - as our head waiter.¡±


    ¡°We can invite him in for an interview, but I¡¯m a bit leery of his experience and social skills.¡±


    ¡°What tipped you off? The stink of desperation?¡±


    ¡°Nope, the poop.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re joking. Is that <i>actual goat poop </i>on the corner? I thought it was just a stain.¡± I sniffed it. ¡°It is! Argh, why is ''distinguishing the subtle aromas of goat shit¡¯ part of my skill-set now!?¡±


    Annieughed, ¡°Ok, enough of Jack. There¡¯s still two left, and I left the best forst.¡±


    ¡°What could possibly top an uncivilized goatboy with a shitty resume? Maybe Balin will finally aim his goat-lover wisecracks at someone other than me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see, snacks first though!¡±


    Annie called out to the kitchen and Lemontwist brought out some kind of fruit tarts. They were sweet, goopey, and cinnamony. Just the way I liked it - uh huh, uh huh.

 Book 2: Chapter 3: Making the Cut

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 3: Making the Cut</h4>


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna be hard to prove that anything is better than a goatboy.¡± I crossed my arms, ¡°Penelope agrees with me. Don¡¯t ya Penelope!?¡±


    *Meeeeh!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I am always correct, and as an extension of me, my manservant is henceforth also always correct!"


    I held out my hand, ¡°See?¡±


    Annie rolled her eyes. ¡°I know for a fact that you can¡¯t speak goat.¡±


    ¡°I understand tha gist of it.¡± I told a little [White Lie].


    ¡°Uh, huh. To answer your question, feast your eyes on <i>this!</i>¡± Annie pulled another resume out of the pile with aplomb and ced it down on the table.


    The paper was in a stylemonly used for notices on the local news and job boards. The adventuring guild board was the biggest and best example, and I often went down there myself to keep up with local gossip.


    It read:


    <strong>Porter for Hire!</strong>


    Local adventurer Kirk Manly seeks to try his hand at beverage service!


    A lover of all things alcohol and a master of conveyance!


    A Titled Porter with experience in multiple dungeons!


    Allow a power-house with four milestones to serve at your convenience!


    He¡¯ll carry your beers, guard your doors, and capture your heart!


    Who is this mysterious and dashing tavern hero?


    Kirk Manly - Action Adventurer!


    See reverse.


    I turned the page over and - lo and behold - there was more. A series of lines and dots that I immediately recognized as sheet music was carefully drawn on the back. I read it over in disbelief.


    ¡°Is that - Is that a <i>theme </i>song? With <i>lyrics!?</i>¡±


    ¡°It is! I can¡¯t read it, but isn¡¯t it amazing!¡±


    ¡°Can anyone in the brewery read music? I need to hear this.¡±


    Annie shook her head, ¡°None of us can, I was hoping you might.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, I wish we had one of my hired advertisement musicians. Tiara¡¯s Teats, I wish we had <i>Sam</i>.¡±


    ¡°Who ''s Sam? Was he someone from the mine?¡±


    ¡°Aye, a bushy bearded fellow with an odd ent. He¡¯s a Titled [Maestro], and a damn good one. He said ¡®eh¡¯ a lot.¡±


    Annie¡¯s brows furrowed in thought. ¡°He must be from out east. That vocal tik is Eastern Crackian in origin. You actually had a bit of an Eastern Crackian ent before - well, you know. You <i>do </i>still say ¡®eh¡¯ though.¡±


    ¡°Ehhhh¡­.¡± I shuffled a bit ufortably. It was a bit disconcerting to be reminded that this body belonged to someone else before I took it over; I was kind of wearing a corpse. Generally speaking, dwarves weren¡¯t overly concerned with death, and even had a nearly religious respect for their ancestors. That made a lot of sense,e to think of it. With reincarnation, your ancestors were technically you, and the decisions you made back then were the decisions you would make now since it was you making them at the time. Death wasn¡¯t the end, it was just moving into a future you that respected the past you.


    Confusing.


    Annie took the page and read it over again, ¡°Oh well. I figured with all the songs you knew that you might have some musical training from before.¡±


    ¡°Nope, that¡¯s all from listening to other people sing.¡±


    ¡°Truly? You have such a wide variety of songs though.¡±


    ¡°Oh sure. It¡¯s because of pop-music, good old rock and roll, and the rise of radio.¡±


    ¡°I understood none of those words.¡± Annie raised an eyebrow.


    I tented my hands on the table, how to exin? ¡°You know Raspberrysyrup¡¯s music, and how everyone¡¯s listening to it now?¡±


    ¡°Maybe not eee-veryone.¡± Annie hedged.


    ¡°I heard you singing it earlier, and if you¡¯re doing it, it¡¯s everywhere.¡±


    ¡°Fine, her music is a <i>little</i> catchy, but only because Aqua sings it all the damn time!¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try and give you a picture. Is there a way you could listen to Raspberrysyrup <i>any</i>where?¡±


    Annie shrugged. ¡°Sure. An object enchanted with music, or amstone.¡±


    ¡°Commstones are like solstones, right? Except where solstones are infused with Solen¡¯s Fundamental of Chaos/Light,mstones are infused with Midna¡¯s Pir of Communication?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°And they allow people to sendmunications over long distances?¡±


    Annie nodded, ¡°Yes, but only for a short time until the infusion runs out.¡±


    ¡°And then it¡¯s really expensive to get the infusion reced? So you need to keep gettin¡¯ a new charge?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not <i>as </i>expensive, but yes.¡±


    ¡°Sounds almost exactly like back home.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Sure, except there are <i>thousands </i>of Raspberrysyrups and they¡¯re all pumping out music at the same time and they each have <i>millions</i> of fans who will all fight over who¡¯s the best. Then your music box of choice would be sting it at you at full volume all day long.¡±


    ¡°By the Gods!¡± Annie almost fell out of her chair in shock, ¡°That sounds horrific!¡±


    ¡°It was <i>glorious</i>. I actually got to see the <i>Barenaked Ladies</i> live in concert once.¡± I sighed in joyful reminiscence. Ahh, if I only had a million dors. Come to think of it, I actually <i>did</i> have a million dors right now. I should buy a house, an ottoman, and some fancy dijon ketchup.


    ¡°A band of nakeddies?¡± Annie frowned, ¡°Does the nudity help the acoustics?¡±


    ¡°It was an all male band actually. They just used that name because it helped with sales.¡±


    She rolled her eyes, ¡°Your people were so <i>strange</i>.¡±


    ¡°All aboard the <i>Crazy Train</i>! Where were we?¡± I nced back at the table and the smallke of paperwork.


    ¡°Deciding to give Kirk Manly an interview, I suspect.¡± Annie tossed his page back on the pile, ¡°If only to make him sing us the song.¡±


    ¡°Agreed. You said there were four, so who¡¯sst?¡±


    Annie held up a crisp piece of white paper. Most of the sheets so far had been a rather dark beige, and made with coarse material; it was tough and strong and held ink well. This new page was thin, bright white, and of a much higher quality. I took an edge and rubbed it between two fingers, marveling at how much it felt like printer paper. It even had the faintest scent of lcs.


    ¡°Well, this catches attention almost as well as the theme song and the shit-stains.¡±


    ¡°Yes. I saved the best forst.¡± Annie said with a wide smile. ¡°I think this will be our most likely future member.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? Superior to a goatboy and an action-adventurer?¡±


    ¡°Just read it.¡± Annie¡¯s smile grew mysterious.


    ¡°Fine, fine, Bimbleberry, eh? Must be a gnome. Let¡¯s see - Dear Sir or Madam, please ept my most sincere - ¡± I raised an eyebrow as I began reading aloud then skimmed ahead. ¡° - ugh this is <i>boring</i>. Most pleased to - yadda yadda, forthwith - h h. How could you possibly like this tripe Annie? Denied!¡± I mmed the paper back on the table.


    Annie tutted and picked it back up. ¡°That¡¯s a traditional dwarven resume. Nothing fancy except for the <i>perfection</i> dripping from every aspect of it. The paper is expensive, the ink hasn¡¯t bled, the writing uses the correct words in the correct order, and the calligraphy is exact without being ostentatious.¡±


    I crossed my arms over my chest, ¡°Hrm, I can ept that. Does it hold any particr meaning?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a way of showingpetence.¡± Annie said, pointing to a point on the page. ¡°Look where he used to work.¡±


    I nced over the paragraph in question, ¡°A Titled [Butler]! To Lord Samuel!? Why is that name familiar?¡±


    ¡°I think he was one of thepetitors in the Barck Beer Brawl? He hit you over the head a lot, which may be why you don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°Oh right, the old military guy. Raspberrysyrup burst his eardrums or somethin¡¯.¡± I pulled at my beard in reminiscence. Ah those had been the good old days. They were onlyst year, but they were still good, and old.


    ¡°Well, apparently you made enough of an impression on his butler that the gnome in question has decided to jump ship.¡±


    ¡°That or it¡¯s all an borate ruse to trick us into letting down our guard until the sudden but inevitable betrayal! Those seem to be a recurring theme.¡±


    ¡°I strongly doubt that. Regardless, he is by <i>far</i> the most experienced of all the applicants when ites to a service position. He has over two hundred years of experience as a Lord¡¯s personal [Butler], and can probably wait the entire restaurant by himself without breaking a sweat. A Titled [Butler] serving drinks in a bar? People wille out for the experience alone! Most people never even meet a [Butler], let alone get served by one. They¡¯re all snapped up by nobles!¡±


    ¡°So why does he want toe work for us??¡±


    ¡°Pete! Read!¡±


    ¡°Ugh, but it¡¯s so <i>bo-ring.¡±</i>


    ¡°READ IT!¡±


    ¡°Fine!¡± I skimmed through the paper as quickly as I could, flexing my high perception. I tossed it back onto the table when I was done, ¡°So, Lord Samuel¡¯s leavin¡¯ early for the octa-millenial in Kinshasha, eh? More like fleeing in disgrace after his loss. And Bimbleberry doesn¡¯t want to skip town right now, so he¡¯s lookin¡¯ for work. And he¡¯s decided to work at the ¡®most popr new establishment in the City of Minnova.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± Annie¡¯s eyes sparkled. ¡°What an opportunity for us!¡±


    ¡°Yep, he¡¯s pretty perfect.¡± I nodded, ¡°So he¡¯s <i>DENIED!</i>¡± I mmed the page back on the table.


    ¡°What!? <i>WHY</i>!?¡± Annie grabbed the page back up and held it tightly to her chest. ¡°He <i>is</i> perfect!¡±


    ¡°Perfectly <i>boring</i>. I suspect Aqua will be brainstorming ns to get rid of him within half a day.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡±


    ¡°You do! She¡¯d be bringing out Bran¡¯s knives by day two and I¡¯d be helping!¡±


    Annie had the good grace to look unsure. Every person in this building was a bit of an oddball - except maybe John - and I was pretty sure that having a dyed in the wool Mr. Perfect around would eventually drive us all up the wall.


    ¡°Maybe Aqua will like him. At least¡­ let¡¯s at least let him do the interview.¡± Annie said with a hint of desperate hope, ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll like him, and if he¡¯s <i>so</i> much better than everyone else it could still be worth it.¡±


    ¡°Fine, but only if I still get to bring goatboy.¡±


    ¡°Deal. I¡¯ll send an invitation to Jack Thornsson, Bimbleberry, and Kirk Manly, and a rejection to Pazmin. Now help me clear this table, it¡¯s time to prepare for the dinner rush.¡±


    Ugh. I <i>hated</i> running front of house. ¡°Is it toote to just pick them <i>all </i>and hire them to do it for us?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Fine. When are the interviews nned?¡± I walked over to the kitchen and grabbed my waitering apron off a hook. It had an image of Penelope silk screened on the front of it, and <i>extra </i>deep pockets.


    ¡°Balin should be back from the dungeon in four days, and I want everything squared up when he returns. Interviews will be the day after tomorrow, and we should be able to get Bimbleberry fully trained and working by the day after that.¡±


    I arched an eyebrow. ¡°Looks like <i>someone</i> is counting her gnomes before they¡¯ve hatched.¡±


    Annie¡¯s eyes grew concerned, and her mouth pinched at the edges. ¡°Pete, gnomes aren¡¯t hatched from eggs. They''re born live, from their mothers.¡°


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Do you need to learn about the Elves and the Trees? I¡¯m not your parent, but I do have some responsibility for your education. Maybe I should ask Balin to do it¡­¡±


    ¡°<i>What</i>!?¡±


    ¡°Sex. And babies. Has anyone exined gnomish and dwarvish biology on Erd to you? That seems to be something that could have easily been missed.¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?¡±


    ¡°You see, dwarven men and women have different body parts. Women have breasts and men have - ¡°


    ¡°BY <i>ALL THE BITS OF THA GODS</i>!¡±


    ¡°Yes, exactly!¡±

 Book 2. Chapter 4: A Goatboy, a Butler, and an Action Adventurer Walk Into a Bar

    <h4>Book 2. Chapter 4: A Goatboy, a Butler, and an Action Adventurer Walk Into a Bar</h4>


    ¡°Would you please invite the first applicant in, Ms. Aqua?¡± I pitched my voice to practically <i>drip</i> maple syrup while channeling my best corporate muckety-muck.


    Aqua flinched. ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s even creepier than when you and Whistlemop do that simultaneous evilugh thing. I still have nightmares about that time I walked into the room and the two of you were cackling at nothing.¡±


    ¡°Why, Ms. Aqua, I do dere! If ya have anyints with my behaviour you are more than wee to bring ¡®em up with dwarven resources. Oh wait, that would be <i>me!</i>¡±


    ¡°Annie, do you have any idea what he¡¯s on about?¡± Aqua turned an imploring eye on Annie, who was seated beside me at one of the tables in the mess hall.


    Annie didn¡¯t bother looking up from where she was reading over the resum¨¦s onest time. ¡°Pete, stop confusing Aqua with obscure references.¡±


    ¡°But - ¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not fair to her.¡±


    ¡°Fiiine,¡± I sighed. ¡°Sorry Aqua, could you please let in Bimbleberry? He¡¯ll be first.¡±


    ¡°Ugh! You two are keeping secrets from me, and I don¡¯t like it!¡±


    <i>Now</i> Annie looked up, with a smirk on her face. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out eventually Aqua. I know you¡¯ve been listening in on us enough to have the big picture. Especially with [Truespeech] on.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a big stupid picture and it makes no sense. It was drawn in crayon by a psychotic <i>child,¡± </i>Aqua grumbled, but went to open the door<i>. </i>¡°Hey, you! The gnome in the fancy suit! You¡¯re up.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± the gnome said, as he stepped through the door from the foyer to the mess hall. He had a very cultured tenor. ¡°And thank you two for inviting me to this interview.¡±


    Bimbleberry was rather short for a gnome, barelying up to my navel. He had a groomed mop of ginger hair and a refined pencil moustache with a long pointed soul patch. His application indicated he was well over 500 years old, but there wasn¡¯t a white hair to be seen. He wore a ck butler style suit with a white shirt, and had the shiniest shoes I¡¯d ever seen. Seriously, it had to be an Ability of some sort, because those things managed to catch the light at every angle, and I was pretty sure they were brighter than the solstones lighting the interior.


    Annie rose to give him a fist bump, and he replied in kind. Each motion was smooth and calcted. He was¡­ <i>rounder </i>than I had expected. He looked more like a hobbit from <i>Lord of the Rings </i>than a gnome. He wasn¡¯t <i>overweight</i> per se, but there was definitely a lot of meat on those bones. He kind of reminded me of an overweight corgi, actually. He turned to give me a fist bump as well, and his coat-tails swished. Yep, corgi.


    I chuckled. ¡°Nice ta meet you Bimbleberry, and thank you forin''. Please take a seat.¡± I pointed to a chair that had been set up on its lonesome in front of our table. Bimbleberry acquiesced and sat knees together and straight-backed, with his feet at a slight angle. It was exactly what my physiotherapist had called <i>proper posture</i>. It was supposed to help with headaches and ensure a long life for the spine. Except nobody ever <i>actually </i>did what their physiotherapist said to do - that would be insane.


    I gave Annie some side-eye, but she was watching him with sparkling eyes. Aqua was too, actually. Huh, maybe it was just me.


    Annie shook herself slightly and replied to his question, ¡°Butler Bimbleberry, to start, could you expand on your reason for applying to the Thirsty Goat?¡±


    ¡°Just Bimbleberry is fine, Miss Goldstone. Honestly, there are two main reasons. The first is due to the unfortunate departure of my long-time employer, Lord Samuel. He has made the difficult decision to move away to his mansion in the Capital of Kinshasa. As his head butler, I was invited toe along, but at my age leaving my home of four hundred years is a difficult medicine to swallow. I declined and we separated cordially. I have a letter of reference from him right here.¡± Bimbleberry brought a sheet of paper out of nowhere and ced it on the table.


    ¡°Is that a storage ability?¡± I asked, leaning forward. ¡°Does it work on anythin'', or just paper?¡±


    I had an Ability called [Big Money] that stored cash in an extra-dimensional space. It wasn¡¯t quite as good as a bank, since the money didn¡¯t gain interest, but it beat a wallet in the back pocket any day of the week.


    ¡°Yes, though it only allows me to store letters and paperwork; an invaluable skill for a [Butler].¡±


    I jotted down a note, ¡®useless storage skill¡¯ and nodded at Annie to continue the interview.


    ¡°You said there were two reasons?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the other is a bit more selfish,¡± he chuckled, ¡°simply put, I¡¯m a fan of your food and drink.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been too busy toe myself, but one of Lord Samuel¡¯s maids brought me food from this restaurant several times in the past few months. The bnce of the vours was incredible, and the recipe divine. I¡¯m a bit of a gourmand, you see.¡± He patted his belly, and yes, we could see. ¡°I made some inquiries and was surprised to learn that the chef was a name already known to me, one Bran Hurler.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I put up my hand. ¡°How do ya know Bran?¡±


    ¡°One of my favourite bakeries purchased some recipes for confections from him. I give them a stipend to ensure that they bring interesting new foods to me.¡±


    Oh. Those had been <i>my</i> recipes. Ah well, Bran deserved the attention.


    The interview continued pretty much to standard. Annie asked him questions about his previous employment, the service industry, and beer in general. Bimbleberry had the right answer to every question, even when he didn¡¯t know the actual answer, and I found myself nodding along.


    Ok fine,petence could be sexy. That, or this guy had a charisma over thirty and I just couldn¡¯t help myself. Is it mind-control when somebody just has a massive ¡®like me¡¯ stat? At least something like that would¡¯ve made my attraction to Liv Tyler more easily exinable to Caroline. It was mind-control, dear!


    Before long the interview was at an end and it was time for the next applicant.


    ¡°Thank you for your time, Bimbleberry. If you could please wait outside while we see the next person? We''ll be announcing the results after we''ve seen everyone.¡±


    ¡°Of course Miss Annie.¡± He made his way out, and Annie stopped Aqua from getting the next person.


    She gave me a <i>look</i>.


    I sighed. ¡°He makes a good first impression, I¡¯ll give him that. But I still don¡¯t think he would fit in here. I like him, but I don¡¯t see myself <i>getting along</i> with him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d get along well with Bran.¡± Aqua piped up. Annie and I both looked at her.


    ¡°What did <i>you</i> think about him, Aqua?¡± Annie said with only a little trepidation.


    ¡°That suit looks very ufortable. I wonder if he has an Ability to negate that?¡± Aqua mused. ¡°He¡¯s fine. Weird that he isn¡¯t Specialized though, if he was such an incredible butler for so long."


    ¡°There is that.¡± I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll put him down as a maybe for now. He¡¯s <i>perfectly </i>fine.¡±


    ¡°Alright Aqua, send in Kirk Manly.¡± Annie said.


    Aqua gave a mysterious grin. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Why would I need to be sure?¡±


    Aqua opened the door. ¡°You¡¯re next big guy!¡±


    Big guy?


    Then the tallest dwarf I¡¯d ever seen walked into the room; he had to <i>duck</i> to get through the door! He wore a half-open white tunic and leather vest over top of ck leather pants. His boots were covered in at least a dozen brass buckles and were made of some kind of scaled skin. Unlike most dwarves I¡¯d seen, he eschewed a beard altogether for a Hulk Hogan style moustache. His brown hair was slicked back with some kind of grease and while Bimbleberry had exudedpetence, this guy screamed <i>machismo.</i>


    Kirk Manly, eh? Touche¡­ I did a double take as he sauntered to our table. Wait, he wasn¡¯t a <i>dwarf</i>, he was -


    ¡°You¡¯re human!¡± Annie proimed in shock. Aqua giggled.


    ¡°I am indeed,¡± Kirk pulled ab out of nowhere and brushed back an errant lock. He shed a sparkling smile and continued in a cool baritone. ¡°Kirk Manly, Action-Adventurer, at your service.¡±


    ¡°Um, nice to meet you, and thank you foring?¡± Annie seemed bereft of words for a moment, but still reflexively reached out to fist bump.


    ¡°The pleasure¡¯s all mine, Annie Goldstone. Thank you for the opportunity!¡± He took her hand into his own and sketched a bow.


    Kirk was the first human I¡¯d ever met face to face since arriving on Erd. I¡¯d seen some at a distance, but this was my first time with one in front of me. I gulped; if I stood up, I¡¯d barelye up to his stomach. It was likely that he was tall for a human, but still¡­ his head was just a little below the ceiling!


    We three dwarves in the room stared amongst ourselves in consternation. Kirk¡¯s resume hadn¡¯t mentioned that he was human. That made¡­ sense. I could understand his race being a roadblock in job hunting; some dwarves were a bit picky about that. Heck, I¡¯d been pretty damn racist myself when I first arrived here.


    Annie was still a bit dibobted, so I decided to start things off.


    ¡°I¡¯m Pete Roughtuff, and wee to Thirsty Goat Brewpub. So ya want ta work here, eh?¡±


    Annie and Aqua both nced over at me with looks of confusion. What? Was it <i>odd</i> to talk to a human? Surely not.


    Kirk¡¯s smile grew even wider. He held up his hand and gave me a massive fist bump. His ent had a slight twang; it was vaguely Western Americana, or Human in this case I guess. It reminded me a bit of home. ¡°Peter Roughtuff? Are you as rough n¡¯ tuff as your name?¡±


    I smiled back. ¡°I like to think so.¡±


    His brow furrowed. ¡°Any rtion to Balin Roughtuff of Goldenlight?¡±


    Wait <i>what!?</i> My mouth took a moment to catch up to my reeling mind. ¡°Wait, <i>what!?</i> Balin Roughtuff''s my brother. What¡¯s this ''Goldenlight''!?¡±


    Kirk looked taken aback. ¡°You haven¡¯t heard yet? Brightstar saved a couple new teams from an attack by a copse of Fireash treants the other day.¡±


    ¡°Brightstar, that¡¯s Balin¡¯s adventurin'' team!¡± I shouted in surprise.


    Annie gripped my arm tightly and began shaking it. I shooed her away, focusing on Kirk.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. Some youngsters were pushing too deep to earn the bounty on Fireash, and got themselves surrounded. Team Brighstar arrived out of nowhere and saved them. The kids say Brightstar ¡®arrived out of the darkness like a pair of shining silver and golden lights¡¯. The name¡¯s getting bandied around the Adventuring Guild now. We¡¯re all real proud of them; that¡¯s what a real adventuring team should be like! Heroes arriving in the darkest hour of need!¡± He struck a pose. It was very manly.


    ¡°By Yearn¡¯s Yams, Balin! What are you getting yerself into!?¡± I hissed. An entire copse of Fireash treants? And I thought <i>taxes</i> were bad!


    I was suddenly assaulted as Annie grabbed my ear and yanked hard. ¡°Pete!!¡±


    ¡°Argh, what!¡± I turned to look at her in annoyance and was taken aback by the desperation in her eyes.


    ¡°Why do you keep mentioning Balin¡¯s name? What¡¯s happened!?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean what happened? You¡¯ve been here the entire time!¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about!? You¡¯ve both been speaking the Human tongue!¡±


    I looked over at Aqua in surprise and she nodded in confirmation.


    ¡°I''m impressed you speak manish.¡± Kirk said, and now that I was paying attention I caught the subtle moment his voice shifted into speaking dwarvish. ¡°Not many bother to learn thenguage of other races.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯ve never learned manish¡­¡± I muttered, momentarily thrown off my game.


    Annie continued to pull at my arm, and Kirk simply smiled in polite curious silence, but across the room Aqua¡¯s eyes squinted in suspicion.


    Oh.


    SHIT.

 Book 2. Chapter 5: Lost in Translation

    <h4>Book 2. Chapter 5: Lost in Trantion</h4>


    ¡°So, uh, I''m just gonna step outside for a second." I began.


    ¡°NOOOPE!¡± Aqua put her arms up in an ¡®X¡¯. ¡°Exnations first! How do you speak Manish, and why did that seem to surprise <i>you</i>!¡±


    ¡°Aqua, we''re still in the middle of an interview.¡± Annie said crossly, pointing at Kirk. ¡°We can always discuss thister.¡±


    Kirk immediately gained my <i>eternal enmity</i> with a sparkling grin that would have fit on the cover of <i>Dentist¡¯s Monthly</i>. ¡°Don''t stop for me, blue-beard.¡±


    I knew it! Sudden and inevitable betrayal!


    ¡°See! He knows how things work. Smart move, maybe new guy. Spill Pete!¡± Aqua walked over to my seat and jabbed a finger in my chest. ¡°What the heck is going on with you! Amnesia doesn¡¯t even <i>begin</i> to cover this!¡±


    ¡°I - I - I¡­¡± I stood up from my seat and began backing up.


    I was in a bit of a spot. I¡¯d figured a while back that I wasn¡¯t actually thinking in Dwarvish; the words were being tranted in my head. It was an odd feeling when I concentrated on it, but it didn¡¯t really cause me issues.


    And now I was learning that it was in fact a <i>universal trantor</i>?


    Were my little goatly trantions <i>real</i>? I thought I was making them up!


    Oh Gods, the ents. The <i>Scottish </i>ents. Chuck and most of the other ck-skinned South Erden dwarves I¡¯d met had vaguely South African ents. Balin¡¯s South Erden gnomish teammate Aishablue looked vaguely Indian to my eyes and had a Punjabi ent. The Americana manly-man Manly spoke with a Cascadia ent. Gnomes drank tea and were slightly British!


    My trantor was <i>giving me</i> the ents based on what my subconscious thought the ents should be!


    Could I speak Elvish? Beastkin? <i>Draconic!? </i>Were those evennguages? What about secret codes or hiddennguages? Could I only trante modern vernacr? Would ancient dialects trante into my head as Old English? Were my thoughts even my own at this point!? Could I trust anything I said!? What was I even <i>saying </i>when I spoke!!!


    I felt a cool hand on my cheek. I turned some slightly spinning eyes and looked down into Aqua¡¯s deep stormy greys.


    ¡°Pete?¡± Her voice was concerned, all tones of usation lost. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I - I¡¯m fine.¡± I took a deep breath.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t think my question would hit you so hard. If you - if you really don¡¯t feelfortable talking about it with me I can drop it.¡± Aqua said. She smiled, but it didn¡¯t reach her eyes.


    It probably really ate at her. Knowing that Annie was party to a secret that we were deliberately keeping from her. Teasing her with even. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was <i>literally</i> more charismatic than I¡¯d ever been in my life. I could handle difficult conversations.


    ¡°Sorry, Aqua. I¡­ I¡¯ll talk to you about itter, ok? I think we owe you an apology for yanking your chain about it too.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, but only when you¡¯re ready Pete.¡± She patted my hand and her smile finally reached her eyes.


    We were brought back to the room by Annie giving a sharp whistle with her thumb and forefinger.


    ¡°Thank you Aqua and Peter for that heartwarming scene. May I request that we keep things professional for our prospective employees from now on? But first, Pete¡­ <i>BALIN!</i>? What were you talking about with Kirk?¡±


    ¡°Balin¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll tell you about itter. He got kinda famous. As for Kirk¡­¡±


    We all turned to look at Kirk, who was standing at ease watching the byy.


    He shrugged. ¡°It was a fine disy ofradeship."


    ¡°Ahem. So, why did you want to work here?¡± Annie asked, attempting to return the room to normalcy. I took a seat next to her.


    ¡°It is a long story.¡± Kirk began.


    ¡°Sorry, we¡¯ll only have time for the short version.¡± Annie held out her hand in cation. ¡°But regardless of what happens with the job, I¡¯d be interested in hearing how a human ended up as an adventurer in Minnova.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Aye, I¡¯ve seen a few here and there, but never gotten tha lowdown.¡±


    Kirkunched into a soliloquyplete with hand gestures. ¡°I sought to ply my skills as an action-adventurer in Greentree. Even above ground your fair city is known as a proving ground. Most of my adventuring in the human kingdoms was solo, but I wanted to join a team. You see - I started off delivering expensive goods cross-country, then moved on to porting mail for nobility. And the asional rescue, of course!¡± He thrust out his chest and gave a winning smile.


    It was kind of like listening to Superman deliver Shakespeare.


    ¡°Just the short is fine.¡± Annie interrupted.


    ¡°Short it is! I spent all the money I¡¯d earned toe and join a team in Greentree, but the dungeon was closed for nearly the whole year. While I cooled my heels I fell in love with the Sacred Brew - it¡¯s not avable in the human kingdoms you know.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I sat forward. ¡°What do they drink?¡± Now that I was watching for it I could <i>feel</i> my voice switch into Manish, but that was a problem for another time. There was alcohol to discuss!


    ¡°Milk mostly, and water. Though we do have liquor. My personal favourite is whiskey, but I can¡¯t seem to get any in Minnova.¡±


    ¡°Whiskey ¨C !¡± I began.


    ¡°Alright!¡± Annie pped her hands. ¡°Back on task.¡±


    I mouthed ter¡¯ at Kirk and he gave me a quick thumbs up then continued his story.


    ¡°While cooling my heels, I fell in love with the Sacred Brew, and I got to know the local drinking scene. By the way, good showing at the Barck Beer Brawl, Pete! Then just as Greentree was opening again you released the Ass-ster Ale, and it was incredible! A symphony of vours and sounds!¡±


    I choked; that was one way to put it!


    ¡°So when the Thirsty Goat announced they were looking for a waiter I simply <i>had</i> to apply! This brewpub is going to go ces, and I want to be there for it!¡± he finished.


    Annie smiled at his obvious love of the brew we''d put so much effort into. ¡°Thank you, Kirk. Now, I have a few more questions for you.¡±


    The rest of the interview went simrly to Bimbleberry¡¯s. Kirk was well spoken and answered questions with verve. While Bimbleberry had quietpetence and self-assuredness, Kirk had a swaggering confidence and quick wit. When he knew an answer he would include small personal anecdotes, and when he didn¡¯t he was often able to tie it around to something he <i>did </i>know.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s everything from me.¡± Annie said, shuffling the paperwork on the table. ¡°Is there anything more, Pete?¡±


    I cleared my throat. ¡°So, Kirk¡­ we couldn¡¯t help but notice the song on the back of your resume. Did you write it?¡±


    ¡°Yes indeed!¡± Kirk shed a shining smile. ¡°I had a lot of time to practice traveling from town to town alone. Would you like to hear?¡±


    ¡°You have a <i>song!?</i>¡± Aqua squealed. ¡°Is it anything like Strawberrysyrup?¡±


    ¡°The gnomish ¡®pop¡¯ star as she calls herself? I quite like her style! I went to herst concert and it was incredible.¡±


    ¡°We did too!¡±


    ¡°Well, my music isn¡¯t much like hers, but perhaps you¡¯ll like it!¡± He stretched out his hands, and with a *pop* a fiddle appeared in his right hand and a bow in his left. He struck a pose, and then spun into an upbeat song. After a few seconds heunched into the words, pausing his ying briefly as he sung each line. It felt a lot like listening to an opening theme song for a 90¡¯s cartoon.


    ¡°He ¨C ''s Kirk Manly!


    He ¨C ''s a hero!


    He¡¯ll be there to help, no matter king or zero!


    If ¨C you''re troubled!


    You ¨C ''ve got problems!


    Get the only guy who can kick right through Golems!


    He ¨C ''s a singer!


    He ¨C ''s a dancer!


    Now watch as he knocks out that Necromancer!


    He ¨C ''s Kirk Manly!


    He ¨C ''s a hero!


    He¡¯s the greatest human that you¡¯ll ever hear-oooooohhhh!!!!!!¡±


    He began to dance as he yed, hopping from foot to foot in a fanciful jig. He ended with a flourish of the bow and bowed. His shirt had ruffled a bit from the exertion and a bead of sweat stood out on his forehead, but he wasn¡¯t breathing hard at all.


    We all pped.


    Aqua looked like she was about to say something but Annie broke in. ¡°That was wonderful, thank you Kirk. If you could wait in the hallway; we have one more person to see.¡±


    Kirk thanked us for our time and made his way out the door.


    The three of us stared at the door for a while after he left.


    I coughed into the silence.


    Aqua snorted.


    ¡ª


    I spent a little time filling Annie in about Balin, and then it was time for the main attraction.


    ¡°Before we let in the next one, I need to go get something.¡± I said, standing up to run out back.


    Annie rolled her eyes. ¡°You mean some-<i>one.</i>¡±


    Yes indeed, yes indeed. I fetched our erstwhile guest star and brought her into the pub.


    ¡°Alright, go get thest person, Aqua!¡± I said.


    ¡°Finally! Last one.¡± Aqua stuck her head into the foyer and called. ¡°Hey you, yeah you, the one with the hat,e in.¡±


    ¡°Thank ya¡¯ll fer seein¡¯ me.¡± Jack the goatboy said in a rough tenor as he sauntered in. Like many dwarves I¡¯d seen he had his beard up in a traditional set of knots and pleats, with a light-brown moustache that reached his belt. That was where his simrity to Minnova city-dwarves ended. His ent was a fair approximation of an American cowboy, while his leather armour was fairly standard, he wore the most ridiculous hat I¡¯d ever seen. It was almost half again as tall as he was, and covered in ayer of dappled goat fur. There was a single horn pointing out the front of it, just like a unigoat.


    That confirmed my [Minimap] Ability was tranting based on my own subconscious. Someone who looked like they walked out of a cowboy movie just <i>happened </i>to speak with a cowboy twang?


    ¡°Thank you foring, Goatboy Jack.¡± Annie held out her hand and Jack walked up to fist bump it.


    ¡°Nah, thankew fer havin¡¯ me Miss Annie! I do look forward ta bein¡¯ part o¡¯ yer brewery!¡± He swung one fist back and forth in a celebratory gesture.


    ¡°That will depend on this interview of course. To start, what made you decide to pick the Thirsty Goat brewpub?¡±


    ¡°Well, you see - ¡° he began, but was interrupted by a questioning noise from underneath the table.


    ¡°Meeeeeh?¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Prithee, who art this fine specimen of goatboy?¡±


    Jack spluttered to a stop and stared as Penelope-the-Five-Hundred-and-Fourth stood up from where she¡¯d been chewing on my shoes under the table. Penelope was a unigoat, which were treated kind of like a cross between dogs and horses in Minnova. They were justrge enough for a dwarf tofortably ride, but were small enough and smart enough to keep as domesticated pets. Penelope was a fine white specimen with a single pearlescent horn curling up from her forehead.


    Penelope moved forward and sniffed at Jack. ¡°Meeeeh.¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I am Penelope, queen of all within these walls. Who are you that stinks of foreign powers?¡±


    Jack¡¯s eyes crossed, and his pupils became rectangr like a goat¡¯s. His ears grew a little longer as well, and his nails were suddenly a bit¡­ hoofy.


    Then, he spoke in perfect goat.


    ¡°Meeeeh.¡± [Tranted from Weirdo Goatboy] ¡°Greetings, your highness. I am Jack,e to thesends from afar to meet with your servants.¡±


    Penelope¡¯s head tipped quizzically. ¡°Meeeeh!¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Shock of shocks! You speak the noble tongue of goats, goatboy!!¡±


    Jack¡¯s bleating became a bit harsh. ¡°MEEEEEH! MEEEH!!!¡± [Tranted from Weirdo Goatboy] ¡°Of course! The goat is the most noble of beings! It is an honour to be in your presence, your highness!¡±


    Penelope pawed at the floor. ¡°Meeeh. Meeeeh!!¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Truly! Do you wish to serve this one as well?¡±


    Suddenly, Jack¡¯s eyes flickered back to normal and he stood to his full height. He whirled around and marched back to the door.


    ¡°Uh, Jack?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°I will not be treated dis way, I¡¯ve never been so insulted in ma whole durn life! That city slicker goat has the foulest tongue of any beast I¡¯ve encountered! What kinda business are you runnin¡¯ here!?¡± He mmed the door behind him, leaving a very confused room of dwarves and one goat.


    ¡°What was <i>that </i>about?¡± Annie asked, looking wide eyed at Penelope.


    ¡°Dunno.¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°But I think my goat trantor is broken.¡±


    Or didn¡¯t exist. Phew.

 Book 2. Chapter 6: Aptitude Test

    <h4>Book 2. Chapter 6: Aptitude Test</h4>


    I nced over the resum¨¦s again. ¡°I dunno Annie. They¡¯re both amazing.¡±


    ¡°What, you don¡¯t want the goatboy anymore?¡± Aqua asked. She was doing some cleanup around the brewpub while Annie and I discussed who we wanted to hire.


    ¡°He insulted our princess. We don¡¯t need some dirty goatboy that can¡¯t appreciate true beauty, isn¡¯t that right, Penelope?¡± I pulled Penelope''s head close by her horn and gave her a nuzzle.


    She gave me a testy head butt and pranced off, her tail held high.


    *Meeeeh.* [Tranted from Jerk Goat] ¡°Eat goat shit and die.¡±


    I coughed. Maybe I would¡­ leave my internal goat trantor as it was before the goatboy incident.


    ¡°I still like Bimbleberry, but Kirk would really mesh well with us. Having some muscle around the brewpub would be nice too.¡± Annie said, ignoring the byy. ¡°The Brewers Guild hasn¡¯t tried anything after the events of the Feud, but we still get the odd curmudgeon."


    ¡°Bimbleberry has the charisma to talk just about anybody down,¡± I put in. ¡°I think tha big question is: will people befortable drinkin¡¯ their beer if there¡¯s a human serving them?¡±


    Annie shook her head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t see why that would matter. Humans are just bigger than all the other races, that¡¯s why they call them ¡®giants¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Humans are <i>giants</i>?¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°They¡¯re often referred to as such. Most of the humans in Minnova are on the short side for their race. Our architecture can be hard on them in general so only the shorteste deep into Crack. Kirk is a little above average for the race.¡±


    And he¡¯d been <i>huge!</i> ¡°What about elves? Beastkin?¡± My lessons had focused on dwarves and dwarven culture, so I hadn¡¯t really covered racial biology that much.


    ¡°Elves are a bit taller than dwarves, though much thinner. Beastkin are roughly the same size as elves, though their antlers add some height. Humans are easily thergest race other than dragons, but the scaly lizards keep to the continent of Drakken.¡±


    Wow. I was used to humans being the average boring race in fantasy worlds, so this was a bit different.


    ¡°Dwarves are famed for their vitality and strength, right? What about the other races?¡± I asked.


    Annie sighed and put down Bimbleberry¡¯s resum¨¦. ¡°We need to finish this before we open. Ask Richter during your next lessons.¡±


    ¡°Fine. So¡­ why not just hire both? We just hired a bunch of people into the brewery section.¡±


    Annie ran her hand through her beard and thought for a moment before speaking. ¡°All those hires were old hands to the brewery. Most of them had to leave because we couldn¡¯t afford their wagesst year. Richter, John, and Johnsson took a substantial pay cut to stay with us. Now that we are hiring someone <i>new</i>, please remember that we can only hire people we <i>trust</i>.¡±


    ¡°What, are you concerned about people stealing the secret to brewing?¡± I scoffed. ¡°I thought we were past that. We¡¯ve had a bunch of dwarvese by and ask for brewing tips the past couple months. I don¡¯t think the secret to beer brewing was as <i>secret</i> as the brewers guild hoped. It was just taboo.¡±


    Annie shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s more than that. Pete, people who work for us will do so for possibly their entire lives. For <i>hundreds of years</i>. It¡¯s rare for a dwarven n business like ours to take in more than one new person a century. Between you and Balin joining the Goldstones it¡¯s already been two just thisst year.¡±


    Hmmm¡­ yeah, I could see that. If you were going to have someone working with you for several hundred years, too many new people at once couldpletely wreck the work culture.


    ¡°Who do all the youngsters usually work with then?¡± I pushed a resume forward. ¡°I prefer Kirk, by the way.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re usually apprenticed en-mass by various Guilds. Gnomishpanies are usually more willing to take onrge numbers of new employees as well.¡± Annie said, and pushed forward a different resume. ¡°I still like Bimbleberry the most.¡±


    ¡°Does anybody care what I think?¡± Aqua asked, pushing a broom past the table.


    ¡°What do you think, Aqua?¡± Annie replied, sweetly.


    Aqua leaned on her broom and sighed. ¡°Kirk¡¯s better looking. And that voice¡­ dreamy.¡±


    ¡°And what does that have to do with waitering?¡± Annie asked with amusement.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have a certain subset of dwarvendies hammering on our doors at opening every day, I guarantee it.¡± Aqua tittered, then returned to her sweeping.


    I shook my head. ¡°That didn¡¯t help at all, so I guess we¡¯re at an impasse?¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°Aye.¡±


    We hummed and hawwed for a minute until I was struck by a bolt of lightning.


    Not literally. An important distinction in a world with magic.


    ¡°How about an aptitude test!¡±


    ¡ª


    Kirk and Bimbleberry eyed each other and then looked around the room. A grumble of dwarves sat at various tables around the room, and Bran and Lemontwist had the kitchen running at full.


    ¡°May I ask what this is?¡± Bimbleberry asked.


    Kirk grinned. ¡°Are you inviting us to ate lunch? I ept! I¡¯ve heard good things about this ce¡¯s food.¡±


    Bimbleberry nodded. ¡°Oh yes, they¡¯re exceptional.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a test!¡± I announced proudly. ¡°You two were both so perfect that we couldn¡¯t decide on who to hire. As such, we designed this little scenario to test your waitering skills.¡± I waved one hand around the room. ¡°This is the rest of the crew of the Thirsty Goat. Say hello everyone!¡±


    The grumble in the room waved their hands and grumbled. I nodded, a grumble was indeed a good name for a group of dwarves!


    I began pointing them out.


    ¡°The three at those table are Richter, John, and Johnsson. They¡¯re the OG three from when I started working.¡± The tall ck South-Erdian Richter looked up from a book he was reading, though John and Johnsson ignored us to continue with an argument. Possibly something to do with Johnnsson¡¯s new pink mohawk?


    Bimbleberry mouthed ¡°OG?¡± curiously.


    I pointed to a pic table with a pair of dwarfesses. They both had almost raspberry coloured beards so curly they were practically permed. They were wearing Raspberrysyrup branded leather armour as well. Branding like that was new, and it was kind of fun watching the usually taciturn dwarves get swept up in brand fever. Right now it was mostly Whistlemop¡¯s Fineries and Raspberrysyrup doing it, but a few local businesses were starting to catch on. I even saw an armored jacket for a local cksmith recently!


    ¡°Those are Zirce and Emma, they¡¯re twin sisters in case you couldn¡¯t tell.¡±


    ¡°Hai!¡± Zirce waved back.


    ¡°Nice ta meet ya!¡± Emma added.


    ¡°And good luck!¡± They both giggled.


    Lastly I pointed to another pair of dwarves sitting side by side at a table in the corner. ¡°Those are two of our oldest members, Moony and Markus.¡± Moony had her head on Markus¡¯s shoulder and the two of them were softly chatting. They didn¡¯t seem to notice our attention. Both of them had shock white beards and hair done up in traditional dwarven style. They reminded me a bit of the ¡®cool¡¯ grandma and grandpa that everyone else had, while you were stuck with angry racist ¡®in my day¡¯ grandpa. Moony often brought treats to work that she¡¯d made at home, and Markus told the best stories during staff lunch and dinner.


    ¡°With Penelope they¡¯re Goat White and the Seven Dwarves!¡± Nyuck!


    ¡°What am I, <i>chopped goat</i>?¡± Bran shouted, sticking his head out the transom window to the kitchen.


    ¡°We love you Bran!¡± I called back, and there was a general chuckle in the brewpub. I turned back to our two applicants. ¡°Your job will be to serve everyone ate lunch and then a snack. They will be making orders, eating, making messes, et cetera.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Bimbleberry nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve not seen it done quite this way before, but I understand the reasoning. You wish to see a live demonstration of our skills.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°Will it be natural, or do you have surprises nned?¡±


    This guy was <i>smart</i>. I tried to hide my smile, an easy task with a huge beard and a high charisma. ¡°Not telling.¡±


    Kirkughed. ¡°I think that¡¯s a yes, Bimbleberry!¡±


    The two surveyed the room, taking everything in. I let them. We¡¯d put a few¡­ traps here and there, like a wet spot on the floor and a piece of roller wood from the brew-room. We¡¯d also re-organized the tables to be a bit less¡­ optimal.


    I cleared my throat to grab their attention again. ¡°Who¡¯s first?¡±


    Kirk and Bimbleberry looked at each other, then Kirk grinned and began bunching up his sleeve. Bimbleberry snorted and did the same.


    Wait, were they going to fight for it!?


    ¡ª


    Kirk won the game of <i>rock, pick, dwarf</i>. The rules were simr enough to <i>rock, paper, scissors</i> that I had to wonder if another Otherworlder had brought it over.


    Dwarf breaks pick.


    Pick smashes rock.


    Rock squishes dwarf.


    The only differences to the hand signs were that pick kept two fingers together instead of apart like scissors, and dwarf was paper with the fingers pointing down like a beard.


    Bimbleberry, Annie, and myself absconded to watch from behind the bar.


    I held out a notepad and pencil. ¡°Do you need a notepad for takin¡¯ orders?¡±


    Kirk nodded and took the proffered items. ¡°My int stat isn¡¯t high enough for perfect recall yet. I know everything in my [Inventory] at all times though.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s neat. Is that one of tha Blessing Abilities for Porters?¡±


    ¡°Yes indeed. Instead of a cloak of shadows I can put things into my shadow.¡± Kirk nodded.


    ¡°What are your other Abilities?¡± I began taking notes in my own notepad. It was usually considered rude to ask a person their Abilities, but this <i>was</i> a job application.


    ¡°[Strength of All: Self][Inventory][Strengthened Steps][Sense Motives][Basic sh][Basic Dodge][Store Area] and [Sticky Grip]¡±


    I raised my eyebrows in surprise. ¡°That¡¯s a lot ofbat Abilities.¡±


    Kirk shrugged. ¡°I was originally a cross-country Porter, and that involved a lot of running away from and fighting monsters. It¡¯s still useful in day to day porting though. Never know when someone might want to steal what you¡¯re carrying.¡±


    ¡°Is it possible to steal from your [Inventory]?¡±


    ¡°Over my dead body!¡± Kirk quipped. Or maybe that wasn¡¯t a quip. Oof.


    ¡°How about you, Bimbleberry?¡± I regarded the debonair Butler.


    Bimbleberry ced his open hand on his chest. ¡°<i>My</i> Abilities are [Sense Needs],[Strengthened Tools],[Strength of All: Self], [Nothingness], [Soothing Voice], [Immacte Attire] and [Paper Pusher].¡±


    ¡°Let me write those all down on my handy dandy judging notepad here¡­ and done. You get fifteen minutes to show your skills here Kirk, are you ready?¡±


    Kirk nodded. ¡°I was born ready.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ GO!¡±


    He was off. And I mean OFF.


    ¡°[Strengthened Steps]!¡± Kirk said cheerfully and then practically teleported next to Zirce and Emma¡¯s table. Between the Ability and his long legs he crossed the room in only a few strides.


    He took their order on his notepad and then made his way to the kitchen. As he passed John, the wily old dwarf stuck his foot out to trip him up. Kirk barely seemed to notice, his entire body lifting out of the way as he continued on his way. [Basic Dodge] maybe? He hadn¡¯t shouted out the Ability, but it would be a bit weird to do that in the middle of a restaurant.


    He ced the sheet of paper with the order on it into the transom and jetted back to the tables. He quickly gathered everyone¡¯s orders with genial aplomb,ughing and joking with Richter, making smalltalk with Moony and Markus, and outright <i>flirting</i> with Aqua. After the orders were collected he began pouring drinks. Not delivering drinks¡­ <i>pouring drinks</i>. Everyone in the pub stared open-mouthed as he pulled a keg out of thin air, bnced it on one hand and began pouring a beer from it right at the table. Hisrge size made it easy for him to hold it, and I suspect his [Sticky Grip] ability made it easier still. It was a pretty impressive feat either way.


    ¡°Oops!¡± Johnsson shouted, knocking his te from the table. The food sttered all over the floor, making an awful mess.


    ¡°Waiter!¡± John snapped his fingers, like a <i>jerk</i>. ¡°Over here!¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Kirk headed past their table, and¡­ didn¡¯t stop. As his shadow passed over the mess he dered ¡°[Store Area]!¡± And the entire mess disappeared into his inventory. There was a small stain left-over that Kirk wiped up with a rag obtained from the kitchen.


    Holy shit!


    I nced over at Bimbleberry, who had wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. Looks like <i>he</i> found it impressive too.


    The crowning moment was when Kirk delivered lunch to the trio of Richter, John, and Johnsson - a Bacon, Cabbage, Onion sandwich with some of Bran¡¯s secret sauce drizzled on it and a helping of mayo. He walked out of the kitchenpletely empty-handed and ran his hand over the table in a circr motion. He easily reached every part of the table, with the food simply materializing underneath his palm wherever it passed.


    Annie actually pped. It was quite a show.


    And then time was up. Kirk walked back over to the bar.


    ¡°And? How was it?¡± He asked with his usual blinding smile.


    ¡°Ahem, it was well done.¡± I said, slightly choked. ¡°Screw well-done, that was a <i>rare</i> sight!¡±


    ¡°Ignore him.¡± Annie said. ¡°Impressive work Kirk. You¡¯re up Bimbleberry.¡±


    We all turned to look at the gnome, who shuffled his feet a bit before nodding.


    ¡°Yes, I will endeavour to give you an equally impressive show!¡±


    He took a deep breath and stepped onto the pub floor carrying a tray of beers. Which was unfortunate, as it blocked his vision from John¡¯s strategically ced foot.


    I winced, time to see how a professional Butler handled a professional Butthead.

 Book 2. Chapter 7: The New Guy

    <h4>Book 2. Chapter 7: The New Guy</h4>


    Bimblebery was impressive, but he didn¡¯t quite hit the same level as Kirk when it came to <i>pub-fu</i>. He tripped on John¡¯s foot, but managed to keep his stride, appearing as though nothing had happened at all - possibly abination of a high charisma and dexterity. He even nonchntly scooped up the little wooden roller we¡¯d left as an obstacle, neatly stowing it away in a pocket as he made his way from table to table. He was organized and <i>efficient</i>.


    However, when Richter jumped up in his way, Bimbleberry bounced off and onto the floor. He was back up on his feet in an instant, smoothly apologizing, but the Thirsty Goat could get a bit rowdy, and that was going to be an issue.


    Bimbleberry <i>did </i>have better customer service skills than Kirk. He was very sociable and got along quite well with everyone in the pub, especially Moony and Markus, who were positively beaming as they got waited on by the [Butler]. Zirce and Emma had been more enamored with Kirk, but Bimbleberry won them over quickly enough. Kirk¡¯s forthright bravado would probably grate on some patrons, but most of us working at the Goat were that special kind of grating anyway. Bran was especially <i>grating </i>when it came to cheese.


    One thing that made Bimbleberry stand out from Kirk was that he didn¡¯t return to the kitchen to deliver orders. He vanished them into his paper storage, and with a pushing motion made them appear on the other side of the room.


    Ah, suddenly [Paper Pusher] made much more sense as an Ability name.


    This time it was Aqua¡¯s turn to make a mess, spilling beer all over the floor. Bimbleberry nabbed a cloth and walked over to it. He simply swirled it a few times and the mess waspletely gone. The floor even sparkled.


    ¡°Were our towels that amazing?¡± I asked Bran, who''d left the kitchen to Lemontwist so he could watch the proceedings.


    ¡°Nah, got to be an Ability.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ [Strengthed Tools] maybe?¡±


    ¡°Sounds right.¡±


    Bimbleberry looked good doing it too. Never a sign of anxiety or concentration or effort, just smooth operation. At one point Zirce sshed some beer on his nice suit by ident. She immediately apologized, then stopped as she realized the outfit wasn¡¯t even marked.


    Bimbleberry smiled and exined, ¡°[Immacte Attire].¡±


    There were two problems though. As a gnome he struggled to easily reach around the dining tables, and he reallycked a <i>presence</i> in the pub. Everyone knows how awful it is to try and catch a waiter¡¯s attention in a busy tavern, and Bimbleberry was almost impossible to spot even a few tables away.


    I looked over at Annie, who was crestfallen.


    ¡°Well, Annie?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s¡­. really good?¡±


    ¡°Aye, but¡­¡±


    She put her face in her hands. ¡°He¡¯s right behind table six, but I can¡¯t see him.¡±


    ¡°Oh, there he is!¡± I pointed to the tip of a head barely visible behind Moony¡¯s back. ¡°And now he¡¯s behind Zirce at table eight!¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s so good at this!¡± Annie whinged.


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s good, but not quite as good as Kirk. He¡¯s missing vim, and you need vim to work in a dwarven pub.¡±


    ¡°Do I get any say?¡± Bran asked. We turned to regard him.


    ¡°Sure, go ahead.¡± Annie said.


    ¡°Havin¡¯ a human around means I¡¯ll have someone¡¯s brain ta pick fer new recipes. That, and he¡¯ll be able to easily reach the rafters so ya won¡¯t need ta keep sending someone to clean up there. Johnsson took a tumblest time.¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, was that why he was demanding a rope system?¡±


    ¡°Aye, he¡¯s just lucky he fell on his head. Would have been a disaster if hended feet first.¡±


    We all sucked in our breaths at the thought. Dwarves had naturally weak feet, which was why we wore padded socks and armored boots everywhere. No dwarf would be caught dead without those padded socks.


    ¡°Aqua was telling me how much she hated it up there too.¡± Annie said, with a tone of resignation.


    We looked back to where Bimbleberry had hopped onto a stool in order to deliver a te of cookies to Zirce and Emma.


    ¡°I guess that decides it. Should we let him finish?¡± Annie sighed.


    ¡°Might as well, he could have more to show us. Maybe [Nothingness] will help him stand out?¡± I chuckled.


    Annie shook her head. ¡°No, [Nothingness] makes people <i>less</i> likely to notice you.¡±


    ¡°Like Lunara¡¯s [Shadowcloak] Blessing?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes and no. [Shadowcloak] drapes you in a tangible shadow and makes it easier to hide in darkness. [Nothingness] masks your presence in a crowd. Useful for a [Butler] or a [Burr], but less so for anyone needing to hide or smite someone with darkness.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ his Blessing Ability is to be <i>less</i> noticeable.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    We nced back to the room. Bimbleberry was nowhere to be seen.


    Bran pointed to a pair of legs behind a table near Richter, John, and Johnsson. ¡°Over there.¡±


    ¡ª


    In the end we chose Kirk. For me, the chance to pick a human¡¯s brain for beer ingredients and alcohol was the deciding factor. I was still intently curious about my new world, and having Kirk around would give me ess to an enormous wealth of first-hand information. I wanted to know how humans lived, what they ate, what they drank, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Also, I wasn¡¯t actively trying to win the God¡¯s little game, but if I wanted to take a crack at it I was going to need to ess the human alcohol market eventually. Hopefully they didn¡¯t have anything like Canada¡¯s horrific alcohol import taxes. I used to pay four or five times what my European friends did for the same beer!


    For example, one of the most famous beers in Europe is a Trappist ale. Trappist beers must be made by monks of the Trappist order in their monasteries and as a result, only ten Trappist monastery breweries are officially allowed to call their beers <i>Trappist</i>. There used to be eleven, but one of them lost the designation recently because all the monks had died of old age. That beer cost me nearly twenty dors for a bottlepared to the five euros that any random Deutschbag could pay. Yeesh, what a ripoff. I was better off drinking <i>Lucky</i>, and that stuff was a swear-word at our old Beavermoose Brewery.


    Bimbleberry had epted his defeat with good grace, and taken his leave. Not before I got his contact info though, because I had other ns for the hyper-qualified little Butler.


    Kirk had been overjoyed until we¡¯d sat him down and forced him to read several dozen pages of dwarven contracts. It had taken him five hours, but soon we would have a brand new front of store! After he signed off on the contract, I got a notification for a little quest that I''d received from Tiara a while back. It was toplete a full hiring process for my first employee.


    <strong>Quest Complete: The New Guy</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Congrattions! You now possess your first employee!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.2 charisma! Your new charisma is 15.2!</i>


    The implication that I now <i>possessed</i> him was a bit disturbing, but the gist of capitalism <i>was </i>that I now owned hisbour. I¡¯d try not to think about it too much, and leave myself a mental note to ensure I was giving enough vacations and pay. Not that maximizing profit meant much with the amount dwarves paid in taxes!


    Anyway, that was yesterday''s news, and I had to get back to business - I was sitting in the admin office trying to solve two major problems. Annie was out tonight meeting with a major potential client, and Aqua was busy cleaning the brewroom. That left me with some quiet time, and I was using it to do what I loved best - improving beer.


    When I¡¯d first arrived on Erd I¡¯d set myself an epic quest to save beer from what I considered a <i>sour</i> fate. A cultural tendency towards tradition and conservatism due to abination of long age and ancestor worship, had resulted in a beer that hadn¡¯t been improved or changed in thousands of years. The stagnation of the dwarven brewing industry had left their beer sour, puckery, cloudy, and un-carbonated. There were several problems that needed tackling, but they mostly boiled down to six main issues:


    Ack of cleanliness.Open-top fermentation.A poor malt base.No filtration.No chilling.A Godsawful bittering agent.


    Over the past year I''d managed to solve a lot of those problems with the help of the Thirsty Goat staff. Cleanliness was now the watchword in the brewroom, and we even had everyone change into clean Thirsty Goat branded work clothes and shoes when they arrived at work every day. No grimy leather armor or chainmail with sandwich crumbs allowed near our beer! The cleanliness had yielded instant results, with the total number of failed batches dropping to near zero overnight. The sess of my first change had left everyone favourable to my other ideas, and a brand newbination filter-and-chiller hop-back was taking care of problems 4 and 5. I still needed auter-tun toplete filtration, and I had one on back order with a local gnomish engineeringpany.


    That left problems 2,3, and 6 as my main concerns right now, and none of them had easy solutions. Problem 2 - the open-fermentation tanks - could be fixed with money and space. I had ess to both of them, but the easiest solution - steel pressure-tanks for fermentation - was taboo around the Thirsty Goat right now. Annie had blown a hole through the wall using one just a few years ago, and half the workers in the brew-room were still traumatized by the concept. Time would heal that wound, and I had hundreds of years to wait. For now we simply bottle conditioned every batch for a couple weeks, which was good enough.


    Problem 3 - the poor malt base - was a result of using the tuberous erdroot. Erdroot was a vourless potato-like vegetable used everywhere in dwarven cuisine including their beer. Most Earth beers on the other hand were made using barley, wheat, oats, or rice. Problem 3 had no easy solution for one terrifying, horrifying reason.


    Dwarves were all gluten-intolerant.


    I looked out into the brew-room at one tank of beer that was full of a light yellow liquid coated with white foam. I¡¯d made a single batch of beer with some wheat I¡¯d purchased from a local farmer who specialized in dungeon crops. There was a small in right inside of Greentree dungeon called Goldenfield, and a lot of cereals were grown there.


    Mostly for the gnomish poption as it turned out.


    For the umpteenth time since I¡¯d made that damn batch I cursed the fact that I hadn¡¯t spoken to Annie about it first. More freedom to y around with my brews was turning out to be a bit more trouble than it was worth.


    Like: how to unload several thousand litres of beer that caused stomach cramps in a <i>bad</i> way. I¡¯d almost thrown up after a single ss.


    I tapped my fingers on the desk as I came to problem 6, or what I personally hated the most about dwarven beer - the sack of shit that went into the wort. Dwarven beer used gruit for bittering, which was a bundle of sticks and herbs that Annie bought from the local alchemist. It was vile, and I really, really, <i>really</i>, REALLY needed to get hops.


    I¡¯d asked Balin to bring me absolutely everything he found in the dungeon on the off chance there was something useful for me, but so far there hadn¡¯t been any nts of note. He was supposed to return sometimeter today, and maybe he would have something new for me. A dwarf could always hope!


    I yed with my pencil and was soon lost in thought while I cursed the conundrum of a full tank of worthless beer.


    ¡°You workin¡¯ alone today, Pete? Where¡¯s ma¡¯ Annie?¡±


    I looked up with a slight jump as I recognized the voice that had disturbed me. ¡°Balin! Broooo!!!¡±


    I jumped up and walked over to the handlebar-moustached dwarf I now called brother.


    ¡°Broooo!¡± Balin gave me a fist bump, then pulled me in for a hug. He smelled of sweat and blood, and I shivered.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked, pulling back and looking into his eyes. He was bright and chipper as ever, with no sign of strain or shell-shock in his bearing. The first few months I''d worried that bing a full-time monster-murderer would change Balin¡¯s bright and outgoing personality, but my fears seemed thus far unfounded.


    ¡°I¡¯m doin¡¯ great, Pete! Wait till I tell you what I saw!¡± He thumped a heavy sack on the table and it kind of¡­ <i>squished</i>. ¡°And give ya what I brought!¡±


    And then heunched into the epic tales of Balin Roughtuff, Knight of Goldenlight.

 Book 2: Chapter 8: The Darkwood

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 8: The Darkwood</h4>


    I peeked inside the sack and cringed at the slimy organ-like sacs filling the bag. There were also a number of vines, flowers, and other odds and ends.


    ¡°I know I asked you to bring me stuff you got in the dungeon Balin, but¡­ why?¡±


    Balin gave a giant smile. ¡°Just you wait till ya hear what those are Pete! Let me tell you how I gottem. It all started when we were fightin¡¯ a terrible monster in tha Darkwood¡­¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Fer Crack and Annie!!!¡±


    Balin charged forward into the iling mouth tentacles, each rimmed with dozens of barbed teeth. The lily-leopard was a greenish-yellow snarling whip of pent up rage and hunger, its blows fast and furious against his greatshield and golden armour.


    ¡°[Basic Block]! I cannae keep this up! Are ya ready yet Aishablue!?¡±


    ¡°Starshine ising up on your raight! Five seconds!!¡± Aishablue¡¯s voice replied from behind him.


    There was a crash in the underbrush directly to their side, and the lily-leopard paused in its assault to nce in that direction. Balin took advantage of its distraction to swing his axe, and the beast jumped back with a snarl. Its spotted hide blended in with the patchy quilt of rot and decay around them, making it difficult to keep it in focus. In the pitch-ck of the Darkwood the only thing keeping it visible was the bright light pouring out from the brown-skinned gnomess. She stood in a white robe a dozen-odd paces behind him, her hands raised as she traced glowing symbols in the air. Beside her, a goggled elderly gnome in engineering-coveralls held a round-shield and mace at the ready.


    The lily-leopard took a step to circle Balin, clearly difited by the light. It eyed the pair of bite-sized gnomes with pale green eyes set on each side of an orange feline-esque face. Its rounded snout split in five and curled open like a flower as it roared and tensed to leap. A whiplike tuber flicked back and forth on its rear end in a crude imitation of a cat preparing to pounce. Balin put himself in its path just as the gnomess Aishablue shouted.


    ¡°Spell¡¯s done! Now!!¡±


    Balin shut his eyes and hunkered behind his greatshield, something he still found counter-intuitive in the heat of battle. There was a sh of light bright enough to hurt even through his scrunched up eyelids, and the lily-leopard¡¯s roar rose in pitch to be a keening shriek. Balin immediately opened his eyes and took in the scene. The lily-leopard¡¯s eyes were clenched tight, and ichor poured out from beneath its eyelids. Itshed out blindly with its wed feet and Balin blocked one lucky strike with his shield.


    Then with a pounding of metal on earth, the dwarf-sized juggernaut of shining steel that was Starshine erupted from the trees and crashed into the side of the beast. A husky feminine voice shouted, ¡°[Basic sh]!¡± and an enormous two-handed maul crashed onto the lily-leopard¡¯s nk. The monster was flung nearly half a dozen metres with a sickening *crunch*. The te-d figure turned to Balin and gave him a fist-across-the-chest salute. The armour was thick and bulky, but flowed in easy movements with a sound like rippling water.


    Starshine began a businesslike critique as Balin walked up to her. Her voice was a warm tenor, only slightly muffled by her closed visor. ¡°Perfect timing, Balin! Good job blocking the approach-path to Aishablue and Flowerpott; that went much better than the first time. We don''t want to waste your [Challenge] if we don''t have to. You¡¯re still closing your eyes a bit too early though.¡±


    ¡°Now''s not tha time, Starshine!¡± Balin faced the lily-leopard, which was struggling to its feet. It blinked, revealing ckened eyes, and loudly sniffed the air. One hip waspletely crushed and it tottered on its three working limbs. Sharshine scoffed as it groaned and began to back away.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a threat anymore, Manny and Raysdotter can handle it.¡±


    ¡°Aye but what if it ¨C" The lily-leopard roared and stumbled away, ¡°runs away.¡± Balin finished with a sigh.


    "Solen''s Socks!" Starshine swore and ran after the beast, Balin and the pair of gnomes following in hot pursuit.


    The heavy armour seemed to barely affect Starshine Morris, as she bounded effortlessly over fallen logs and smashed through knee-high bracken. The woods around them were full of enormous trees simr to pines, with scraggly needles that coated the forest floor. Shadows flickered through the lower branches as they ran, rotten wood crunched underneath, and the scent of decay and fungus filled their nostrils. Up ahead the lily-leopard gathered its three good feet and jumped over a stand of mushrooms twice as tall as the average dwarf. Then with onest hiss, it disappeared into the darkness.


    The party had to take the long way around the bed of poisonous red speckled puffballs, and by the time they made it, the lily-leopard was out of sight.


    Starshine sighed then looked up into the sky, searching for something. Up above them, there was a glimmer as light refracted within ethereal insectile wings. For a brief moment their ears were filled with an oppressive quiet, broken only by the creak of wood and the buzzing of insects.


    ¡°The ssflies indicate it went north-east.¡± Flowerpott, the gnome in the coveralls, broke the silence. He pulled anxiously at his white-flecked ginger goatee. ¡°We should let Ray-Ray look first. It couldn¡¯t have gotten too far, not after that jump.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Flowerpott. Raysdotter are you there?¡±


    ¡°This is your own Elfin fault dontcha know. Just because we have Balin now doesn¡¯t mean you can get sloppy, eh?¡± An easy-going altoined, as a dwarfess in ck leather armour materialized out of the shadows beside them. Balin jumped. He still wasn¡¯t used to the sneaky [Priest].


    ¡°I realize that.¡± Starshine said sternly, her stung pride evident even through her stern demeanor. ¡°I¡¯ll do better next time.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better. I don¡¯t want ta be tha one to tell Guard Captain Morris that his daughter was eaten by an overgrown flower!¡±


    The assembled party chuckled as Raysdotter stepped back into the gloom pushing at the edge of Aishablue¡¯s [Internal Light].


    ¡°Take Manny with you!¡± Flowerpott said offhandedly.


    ¡°Got it. Manny, Order: Follow!¡± A gangly, crystalline shape was briefly visible at her side before she proimed, ¡°[Minor Blessing: Solen],[Shadowcloak]!¡± and the pair vanished.


    ¡°Why do all you youngin¡¯s keep sayin¡¯ yer Abilities out loud?¡± Flowerpott muttered.


    ¡ª


    The party crept towards the copse of enormous tiger-lilies. The flowers ranged in size from the height of a horse to nearly as tall as a house, each a thick yellow stalk topped by a beautiful citrine flower. Aishablue¡¯s light was unable to prate the dense leafy mass, and the party stopped before they got too close.


    ¡°It went in there?¡± Starshine asked in a hushed tone. Her visor was up, revealing a pair of silver eyes set on either side of arge nose. A pencil moustache twitched as the leader of the adventuring team Brightstar looked around. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, it feels like a trap.¡±


    Raydotter nodded, her ck garibaldi beard bobbing, ¡°I took a look around with [Basic Stealth] up. There¡¯s at least two in there, maybe more.¡±


    Balin nodded. ¡°Aye, the beasties like to hide in these.¡±


    ¡°I am surprised you know that.¡± Aishablue remarked in her bright soprano. She scratched quizzically at an old scar on her brown cheek.


    ¡°We had an incident.¡± Balin frowned. ¡°Some bastard snuck lily-leopard oil into our brew. We all studied up on them then.¡±


    Raysdotter¡¯s nched. ¡°Someone poisoned the sacred Brew!?¡±


    ¡°Contaminated.¡± Balin corrected. ¡°We were makin¡¯ that new brew and the Brewer¡¯s Guild didn¡¯t like it. At least, the old Master Browning didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Oooh! The Ass-ster!¡± Flowerpott chortled. ¡°I don¡¯t like beer myself, but that stuff¡¯s hrious.¡±


    ¡°Is that why Malt is the new Guild Master?¡± Aishablue asked. ¡°There was some fuss in the city over a Feud six months back wasn¡¯t there?¡±


    ¡°Focus team!¡± Starshine chided. ¡°We don¡¯t want to get ambushed. Aishablue, how is your [Dangersense]?¡±


    ¡°It is going off, but it almost always does in the Darkwood. It is low level though.¡± Aishablue shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got eyes in the sky.¡± Flowerpott nced up, to where a dozen faint shimmers flitted between the branches. ¡°We should be fine.¡±


    Starshine shook her head. ¡°No. The ssflies are great golems for general use, but they aren¡¯t good at spotting stealthy monsters. Let¡¯s go in with formation six¡±


    ¡°Got it. Keep your eyes peeled everyone! You got this! I believe in you! [Encouragement: Perception]!¡± Raysdotter said with bravado.


    The party got into position and Balin pushed into the thick foliage at the front. Raysdotter stood to his left holding a spear, and Flowerpott to his right. Aishablue stood at the centre with Starshine bringing up the rear. The going was tough, as the lilies almost seemed to reach out and grab at their armour. The air here was heady with pollen and greenery, and Aishablue¡¯s lighting Ability was barely able to push the darkness further than two meters.


    ¡°[Dangersense] spike!!¡± Aishablue hissed. The party stopped and hunkered together.


    ¡°There!¡± Flowerpott pointed at one of the tiger-lillies. It¡¯s stalk was damaged and leaked a dark green fluid.


    Then with a growl, the lily turned to face them, revealing itself to be the injured lily-leopard. The monster pounced, attempting to leap over Balin¡¯s head and get at the source of the hated light. Balin whipped around his shield to block a strike from its teeth, while his axe fended off its whiplike tail.


    ¡°[Basic Block]!¡± He shouted, gritting his teeth.


    The lily-leopard fell back with a disappointed hiss, and stalked sideways. The party tensed, and Aishablue began tracing arcane sigils in the air, forming glowing magical diagrams. The lily-leopard crouched as it prepared to spring.


    And then a crystal sickle the size of a broadsword cut across its neck, and the monster''s head sprang free with a shower of sap-like ichor. An enormous spindly mantis stepped out from between the tiger-lillies. Its body was made of sharply angled ss, and it had a pair of lifeless crystal eyes. In the shifting shade it was even harder to see than the lily-leopard.


    Flowerpott looked upon it with pride. ¡°Good golem, Manny. Order: Guard.¡±


    ¡°Y''know Manny doesn¡¯t actually understand the concept of praise, right?¡± Raysdottermented, her eyes continuing to scan their surroundings.


    ¡°[Dangersense] is still up.¡± Aishablue warned, as a low hiss began to fill the lily copse. ¡°My spell is almost done!¡±


    The party jumped into action as another pair of lily-leopards pounced. Aishablue¡¯s spell went off, transforming a patch of air into a miniature star that illuminated the entire copse in bright light. Raysdotter and Flowerpott tumbled to the side as Balin rushed forward to meet the first monster. ¡°[Heroic Moment]! And you, ya other tuberous beastie, get over here! [Challenge]! Fer Crack and Annie!¡±


    ¡°Fer Crack and Minnova!¡± The rest of the party cried.


    With a yowl the second lily-leopard was forced to rush towards Balin, Hammers swung, ws raked, spells sparkled, and crystal sickles shed. In an instant the entire copse was a chaotic melee.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Ach, that stings!¡± Balin hissed.


    ¡°Sorry! I needed to get tha w out.¡± Raysdotter patted Balin on the shoulder. ¡°[Minor Blessing: Barck].¡±


    Starshine turned to Balin as they waited for the minor Blessing of regeneration to knit Balin¡¯s wounds. The party had survived almost none the worse for wear, minus a nasty sh that had cut through Balin¡¯s shoulder armour. And¡­


    ¡°Manny!!!!" Flowerpott wailed. He was examining a chip in Manny¡¯s ss carapace where one of the lily-leopards had taken a chomp on the ss-golem¡¯s thorax. His goggles telescoped out as he pulled some tools out from his overalls and tried to fix the damage.


    Starshine kept a careful eye on their surroundings as her party rested. Brightstar was one of the fastest rising teams in Minnova now that Greentree Dungeon had reopened, and she wasn¡¯t going to let a little thing like victory distract her. ¡°Think your family will be happy with today¡¯s haul, Balin? A whole four lily-leopard livers!¡±


    Balin nodded, watching in fascination as his savaged skin slowly began to meld together. ¡°Aye, It¡¯s a nice bonus, but Pete really wants me to bring him new things - stuff nobody cares about that doesn¡¯t make it out of the dungeon much.


    ¡°What is he looking for?¡± Aishablue asked. She was leaning against a tree breathing heavily; she wasn¡¯t the most fit of the team.


    ¡°He said he needs hops.¡± Balin said, and shrugged. ¡°I dunno what it means, but mebee there¡¯s some in here.¡±


    ¡°Here.¡± Raydotter deposited a long brown object in Balin¡¯s hand. ¡°Will this help?¡±


    Balin examined it. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t tell?¡± She replied easily, then grinned maliciously. ¡°It¡¯s a stick.¡±


    Everyoneughed, except for Balin. ¡°Midna¡¯s Mullet! That¡¯s not what I meant!¡±


    ¡ª


    I listened with rapt attention. Balin¡¯s stories of the dungeon almost made me want to go see it one day.


    Almost.


    Maybe after I maxed out every stat.


    I apuded as Balin¡¯s story came to an end with his tale of defeating an entire brood of lily-leopards. ¡°That¡¯s amazing! Are you¡­ sure yer okay doin¡¯ this?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that I am. I¡¯m enjoyin¡¯ it. It¡¯s exhrating, and gets my dwarven blood pumpin¡¯. It¡­ kind of feels like it¡¯s in ma bones.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­ well, thanks for bringin¡¯ all these, I was worried that we were going to single-handedly increase the cost of lily-leopard livers.¡± I grimaced at the damp sack, ¡°But maybe wrap the livers in something a bit more¡­ waterproof next time. For the rest of it, I¡¯ll grab those books we bought on alchemical ingredients in Greentree and see if I can cross-reference any of them. One question though.¡± I pointed at a long brown object sitting demurely in the sack. ¡°What¡¯s that one?¡±


    Balin¡¯s grin looked like he ate pieces of shit for breakfast. ¡°You can¡¯t tell? It¡¯s a stick.¡±


    I didn¡¯t bother dignifying that with a response.

 Book 2: Chapter 9: Brewing Blues

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 9: Brewing Blues</h4>


    I spent the next hour or so just chatting with my brother.


    Balin was the first dwarf on Erd who gave mepassion andradeship. He was strong-hearted, kind, considerate, brave, and outgoing. You could trust him to have your back in a scrap, and he couldn¡¯t tell a lie to save his life. He was a bit of a royalist, but nobody''s perfect.


    I sent Zirce to grab us coffees from Joejam Cuppa and then Balin and I retired to the alley out back. It was nice and cool and quiet, only upied by a pack of neighborhood cats and the remains of their dinner. We''d been attracting more and more ratstely with all our food, and the massive number of felines nketing the city were keeping them nicely under control.


    ¡°Sooo, Balin of Goldenlight, eh?¡± I kicked his shins and he grimaced.


    ¡°Buncha stupid kids. Coulda gotten themselves killed over our own damn boomdust.¡±


    ¡°Eyech, that <i>would</i> put a damper on things. Buuuut, do you like being the good kind of famous?¡±


    ¡°I love it! What about you, Pete? How are things at tha Goat?¡± Balin grinned around a sip of coffee. He''d hated the stuff the first couple times, but the addictive nature of caffeine won him over in the end! Muhahahahaha!


    I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s going okay. I got one more new brew going but it didn¡¯t turn out very well. I¡¯m takin'' my time on tha next one and makin¡¯ sure all my ducks are in a row first.¡±


    ¡°What do ducks have to do with it?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say co-owning a dwarven brewery while co-owning a ssworks isn¡¯t all it¡¯s quacked up to be.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°My first new brew since New Brew is sitting in a tank right now because it''s so fowl nobody can drink it.¡±


    Balin took a sip and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of roasted bean. Joejam the gnome made a mean cup of coffee. ¡°Because it''s as terrible as yer puns?¡±


    ¡°I made it with wheat.¡±


    Balin winced. ¡°Nobody''s gonna drink that.¡±


    ¡°Yesssss.¡± I drew the word out in an irritated hiss. ¡°I got that. In the meantime I¡¯m thinkin'' about my next steps.¡±


    ¡°d ta hear it, but why were ya usin¡¯ wheat anyways?¡±


    I waved my hands up and down. ¡°Well, it¡¯splicated. It¡¯s mostly because I don¡¯t like usin'' erdroot to make beer, ya¡¯know. True Brew has a really smooth, filmy mouthfeel which is just wrong whenbined with the sourness of the gruit. I figured that using somethin¡¯ else for the malt would help.¡±


    Balin frowned. ¡°I like tha smooth feelin¡¯ meself.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but you¡¯ve never had different. Do you like the taste and feeling of that coffee now? You used to hate it.¡± I pointed at his mug. We were consistent enough customers now that Joejam allowed us to take the mugs out. I really needed to get that gnome some disposable cups, or ask Whistlemop to start selling them out of the Emporium. Or maybe not¡­ he¡¯d probably call them something dumb, like Whistlecups.


    Balin nodded. ¡°It¡¯s grown on me. It¡¯s got a feelin¡¯ sorta like abination of wet and dry at tha¡¯ same time.¡±


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s the tannins, and Erdroot doesn¡¯t have any. I could use fruit to add some but that would change the vour profile a lot.¡±


    "And addin¡¯ fruit to beer is one step towards radler.¡± Balin shivered. ¡°I don¡¯t think dwarvenkind is ready fer that, Pete. Give it time.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± I waved it off, ¡°so I want to focus on using a different malt instead. Back on Earth the mostmon malts were barley, rice, and wheat. A malt-house would purchase massive amounts of grains and then dry them in a kiln before cleaning and storing them. The drying kept any fungus or mould out until the grains were ready for the next step.¡±


    Balin frowned. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m pretty sure True Brew has some fungus - er - mushrooms in it. I saw Annie shove some in the secret bittering sack during thatst batch.¡±


    I sat at attention. The secret ingredients of the True Brew bittering agent were a mystery I was desperate to solve. ¡°Oooh? Really? I always figured there was some mushroom in it. It doesn¡¯t matter though, my point stands that fungal growth isn¡¯t great for vour.¡±


    Balin peered into the bottom of his now nearly empty mug and made a sad face. "You were right about coffee, so I''ll take yer word for it."


    ¡°Why thank you. When it''s time to make the malt, the stored grains get soaked and then left to sit a short while to germinate. That gives chemicals called malt enzymes time ta break down some of the cell walls in the grain, which changes the vour profile. The germination step needs to be done in a cool space because it produces a lot of heat. On Earth it wasn¡¯t umon for malt-houses to burn to the ground. I imagine dwarven safety Ordinances and magic keep that from bein'' an issue here.¡± I gave Balin a quizzical look.


    Balin shook his head. ¡°Not many fires in Minnova or any other dwarven city. Most o¡¯ tha buildin¡¯s are made with stone, and there¡¯s almost always some aether mage around ta turn all tha air into water.¡±


    ¡°Right, well after the germination step the malt gets roasted in a kiln until it¡¯s somewhere between lightly toasted to almost ck depending on the beer. There¡¯s a kind of beer that I want to make called a stout, and another called a pale ale, both of which depend on how much the malt gets roasted. I haven¡¯t bought a malt-house yet, so I can¡¯t control that.¡±


    Balin raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yet? How much gold do ya have now, Pete? Weren¡¯t wepletely broke justst year?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°A lot happened while you were in and out of tha dungeon. Don¡¯t worry about gold, we¡¯re fine. On that note, do you need new equipment or weapons? How about an enchanted axe?¡±


    Balin shook his head. ¡°I can get all me own equipment Pete. Don¡¯t worry about yer brother, I can handle meself.¡±


    Right, one enchanted axe for his birthday then. Which was¡­


    Hrm. When was his birthday?


    When was my birthday?


    Maybe Annie would know.


    Hey, I¡¯m 50 years old now! When did that happen?


    It¡¯s kind of weird being an old man but only being a young dwarf. I wonder if that gets easier?


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    I shook myself. ¡°Yes, Balin?¡±


    ¡°You were talkin¡¯ about malts.¡±


    ¡°Right. After the roasting step, there¡¯s some more cleaning stages, though I don¡¯t know if dwarven malt-houses do that. Thepleted malt is sent out to the breweries to be ground in the grist mill and put into the mash.¡±


    Balin tapped his feet for a moment before asking his next question. ¡°Pete, does this whole story have a purpose? ''Cause I could be braiding Annie''s beard right now.¡±


    ¡°Because erdroot has no tannins, doesn¡¯t germinate properly, roasts kind of weird, and I hate it. I hate it soooooo much. I would rather eat nothing but potatoes and my momma didn¡¯t raise any Irishmen.¡±


    Balin put up his hand.


    I ignored it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what an Irishman is. What matters is that I don¡¯t want erdroot, and I can¡¯t use wheat, or barley either. Because of our stupid, annoying, stomachs!¡±


    ¡°Well, sorry fer our annoying dwarven stomachs. Is there anythin'' else you can do?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°The next best thing would be rice or sorghum, but I can¡¯t seem to find those anywhere. Then buckwheat, but same problem. If you find any of those in the dungeon, please let me know.¡±


    Balin shook his head. ¡°Ill try, but I¡¯ve never heard o¡¯ either of those. What am I lookin¡¯ for?¡±


    ¡°Wild rice kind of looks like long grass gone to seed, usually in shallow water. Sorghum''s simr, but you''ll find it in firlds. Buckwheat is actually a small white flower with kernelly seeds. It looks like this.¡± I pulled my handy-dandy notebook out of my pocket and showed Balin a drawing I¡¯d made of a buckwheat flower. ¡°This is from memory though, so it won¡¯t be perfect. I can¡¯t even guarantee that it¡¯ll be white on Erd, so just bring me everything.¡±


    ¡°Anythin¡¯ in tha sack I gave you earlier?¡±


    ¡°Sigh, no. I checked. Even gave it a once over with my Minimap. Thanks for bringin¡¯ it though. I want to try some other magical ingredients with my [Refine Brew] and see if we can¡¯t get any other interestin¡¯ effects.¡±


    ¡°Happy ta help, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Happy for yer help, Balin.¡±


    We sat in happy silence for a short while, nursing our mugs and staring up at the permanent twilight that made up the ¡®sky¡¯ in Crack. A faint purple illumination from the massive Solstone in the center of Minnova¡¯s cavern bathed everything in a soft indigo glow. Luminescent mosses and small bright stones dotted the roof of the cave far above us like pinprick stars. I absentmindedly rubbed a cat between the ears while it debated between mauling me or leaning in to enjoy it.


    Balin eventually spoke up. ¡°Are ya joining up for tha Octamillenial brewin¡¯ contest? I figured it would be just yer style.¡±


    I winced. ¡°Ugh. You need to be a member in good standing with a brewing guild to join. We haven¡¯t made it back in yet. I have a meeting this week with Guild Master Malt to see what we can do. I¡¯m hopeful, but until then I¡¯m just enjoying the down time to try and brew something new.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re just lookin¡¯ to make somethin¡¯ new, Pete, why not try makin¡¯ some Light Brew? Tha¡¯ Goldstone¡¯s haven¡¯t ever made any. You might have fun gettin¡¯ it started.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I thought about that. I¡¯ve actually been working on a tank design for it with Richter and an [Engineer] Whistlemop hired. It should being in sometime this week. Maybe tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°What were you thinkin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got two ns going right now, one for a pressurized version - ¡°


    Balin sucked in a breath to protest but I barreled on.


    ¡°- which I won¡¯t be using for a while, and another for an open-top with a pressure release lid. Kind of like our regr tanks, but with a cap that levers up and allows pressure to escape. It''ll also help keep any nasty bacteria, dust, or yeasts out.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate that you aren¡¯t usin¡¯ a pressure thingamajig. Why does it need a lid at all?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s because of howger - er - Light Brew is made. Light Brew needs to be kept at a lower temperature than ale and fermented for a longer duration.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so it needs instion and more o¡¯ those fancy coolin¡¯ enchantments that ya got on tha hop-back?¡±


    ¡°Aye! We¡¯ll make a brewer out of you yet, Balin!¡±


    ¡°An axe and some wood or a dungeon is plenty for me, thank you!¡± He grinned.


    I gave a mock sigh. ¡°Ah, what a waste. Anyways, the only thing stopping me right now isn¡¯t the tank. It¡¯s something else entirely.¡± I pulled my fingers away as the cat finallynded on ¡®maul¡¯. I sucked at a slight cut on my finger, and watched with faint fascination as my [Regenerate] Blessing knit the flesh slowly back together. It wasn¡¯t like I was a Wolverine or anything, but never needing to worry about minor cuts ever again was amazing.


    ¡°Is it space?¡± Balin asked, looking around. The Goldstone brewery wasrge but it wasn¡¯t huge, especially inparison to some of the other breweries. I¡¯d scoped out thepetition over the past few months and several of them were positively massive.


    ¡°No, well kind of, but mostly it¡¯s seed - Ancestral Seed to be exact. True Brew ale uses a top fermenting yeast, which ferments the wort and then floats to the top, making that white crust you see in all thepleted tanks. Ale yeast needs a temperature of around 18-22 degrees celsius to work properly, and the temperature in the brewery sits nicely in that range. When you want to make an ale, you simply harvest some of the Ancestral Seed from an older batch and pitch it into the new tank. The amount you use is the pitch rate.¡±


    Balin nodded. ¡°And Light Brew doesn¡¯t use our Ancestral Seed.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Nope. It uses an entirely different kind of yeast called bottom-fermenting yeast.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess.¡± Balin grinned. ¡°It floats to tha bottom?¡±


    I gave him a double finger-gun. ¡°Got it in one. It also needs to be kept at a constant temperature of 5 degrees, hence the need for a cooled tank, and requires at least a month to ferment. But new tanks won''t matter since we don¡¯t have any Light Brew Ancestral Seed in the first ce.¡±


    Balin brushed his hand through his beard, a habit whenever he was thinking. ¡°Could ya¡¯ get some from another brewery?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Maaaaybe, but we¡¯re not exactly popr with the other breweries right now. I doubt anyone would give us any.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you could ask Whistlemop¡­?¡± Balin ventured.


    ¡°Eh, Whistlemop is a smart businessman, but I don¡¯t think it would be a good idea to have him ask tha local brewers for anything but gold.¡±


    Balin snickered at the image of a top-hatted gnome with a rainbow suit and enormous walrus moustache asking dwarves for their precious Ancestral Seed. ¡°How is it workin¡¯ with him?¡±


    I chuckled too. ¡°He¡¯s infectious. If I spend any more time dealing with bottles, and Whistlemugs, and Whistlesses, my brewer''s soul is going to be transformed into a Heart of ss!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a song by Blondie, I -¡± I cut off, my eyes growing wide.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Balin! You¡¯re a genius!!!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Blonde Ale! I can make ager that isn¡¯t ager! I even have a perfect marketing campaign for it! I could kiss you brother!¡± I grabbed his beard and pulled him in for a hug.


    ¡°You keep yer lips away from me! I only kiss ma Annie! [Basic Block]! [Heroic Moment]!¡±


    Balin tossed me one-handed into the pile of cats, and I yowled almost as loudly as they did in the resulting flurry of fangs, ws, and beard hairs.


    I didn¡¯t care, for the first time in a month I finally had direction again. First I needed to see Malt, and then it was time to start operation Strawberry Swing. After my wounds closed. Ow.

 Book 2: Chapter 10: Talking Shop

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 10: Talking Shop</h4>


    I had several meetings today; three in fact.


    First I had to see an object, then a grain, then a fruit. All in all, Gnomish and Dwarvish names could be very hunger and/or confusion inducing at times.


    ¡°So you truly think Whistlemop himself will hire me?¡± Asked the finely dressed, but slightly wide gnome following closely behind me. We may have turned Bimbleberry down for working at the brewery, but I was absolutely not going to throw away such an incredible find right while we were expanding. As for goatboy¡­ eh, we could do without - he insulted Penelope, so he could eat Aaron¡¯s Arse.


    ¡°Oh absolutely. Your resume is impable, and you¡¯ll fit in perfectly at the emporium.¡± I stepped aside as a trio of Dwarves wearing the badge of the Highwatch trundled past on unigoatback. I gave them a customary closed-fist-to-the-chest salute and they nodded in acknowledgement. The Highwatch was responsible for guarding the roads in Crack against monster and bandit attacks, and it was dangerous but important work.


    ¡°I admit that I was surprised to learn that you are partners.¡± Bimbleberry shook his head. ¡°There are very few co-owned dwarven and gnomish businesses even in a rtively egalitarian city like Minnova.¡±


    I coughed; the history of our rtionship was fraught. If theft, assault, battery, kidnapping, confinement, and coercion could be so simply described as <i>fraught</i>. ¡°Yes, well, he¡¯s a good business partner, but you¡¯re right that we haven¡¯t really advertised that fact.¡±


    ¡°I should have realized since you were selling your drinks out of his cart. I simply assumed you were renting it from him and helping him sell bottles!¡±


    ¡°The bottles were my idea actually.¡± I gave a self-satisfied smile as the Main Street of the Grand Market came into sight ahead. Then I frowned. Speaking of bottles, I could see one in a ditch ahead. I¡¯d noticed a good number of them on our walk here and that¡­ was going to be a problem.


    City of Minnova Ordinances Chapter 56, Section 3, Subsection 9 stated that any garbage in the city from a business or party that exceeded 800 kilograms was the responsibility of the business in question. I was willing to bet that a pencil pusher in City Hall was busy counting every bottle picked up by the city cleanup crew, waiting for it to hit the magic 800 kilos. Then we¡¯d be in trouble. Some of those staid sticks at City Hall were <i>just </i>the kind of Dwarves who¡¯d be annoyed by my changes to the Sacred Brew and would have an axe to grind.


    Our return program was going well. But when a hypothetical party of Dwarves walked drunkenly through the street (and were not picked up by the guard and shipped off to one of the reform mines) they tended to leave a mess. It was probably best to get ahead of this problem before City Hall <i>made</i><i>it </i>my problem.


    ¡°Everything all right?¡± Bimbleberry asked at my side.


    ¡°Take a note that we need to deal with those cast-off bottles.¡± I pointed at the offending ssware.


    Bimbleberry looked about to say that he did not, in fact, work for me yet, then shrugged and pulled a notepad out of nowhere. ¡°Bran brings meals every day you say? Fullyped?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll have him prepare extra just for you. That¡¯ll help make Whistlemop partial to you. He likes the food too.¡±


    Bimbleberry shed a grin. ¡°Most excellent.¡±


    ¡ª


    We walked into <i>Whistlemop¡¯s Emporium of Fine Goods and Beer</i>, and there was the jingle of a bell over the door. The ce was <i>packed</i>, mostly by Dwarves moring over the various kinds of beer being served on the first floor. It was mostly ours, but Whistlemop had refused to go exclusive. A few gnomes were sprinkled throughout, especially on the second floor where Whistlemop sold his ss alongside odds and ends from Greentree. We were greeted at the door by The Mop himself wearing his godsawful rainbow suit.


    ¡°Greetings, and wee to my emporium! Thank you for - oh¡­ it¡¯s you. Good morning, Pete. How was the audit?¡± Whistlemop gave a knowing smirk.


    I glowered. ¡°The audit was just <i>peachy</i>. Did <i>you </i>get Silverpen as your auditor?¡±


    ¡°No, it was a Dwarf by the name of Jackson. He was pretty easy to give the run-around. You got <i>Silverpen</i>?¡± Whistlemop asked with surprise in his voice.


    ¡°Do you know him?¡± I moved aside to allow a few Dwarves out. They nodded thanks as they passed, though one stopped with a shocked expression and pointed at me. His fellows dragged him out. I was a bit of a minor celebrity in the drinkingmunity following the Feud and the drinking contest.


    ¡°He¡¯s the only gnome working for City Hall. He got in on a loophole he found in the Ordinances, and they closed the loophole in an emergency update.¡± Whistlemop shook his head. ¡°A crying shame. We could use more auditors like him and less like Jackson.¡±


    ¡°Huh, yeah. He was really good at his job.¡±


    ¡°What brings you in today?¡± Whistlemop nced over at Bimbleberry in curiosity. Bimbleberry stood to attention at the attention.


    I looked around the zoo. ¡°This ce is getting a bit too busy for you to be wasting your time greeting people at the door Whistlemop. You need a front of house.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t -¡± Whistlemop hotly began. We¡¯d had this argument before, but things had changed.


    I wagged a finger as I interrupted. ¡°You <i>do</i>. There are a million things to do and manage, and you¡¯ll never get it done if you keep trying to micromanage your shop!¡±


    ¡°But how will people trust <i>my </i>products if they don¡¯t meet with <i>me</i>.¡± Whistlemop whined.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this! That¡¯s what the <i>brand</i> is for!¡± I began and paused as I realized we were gathering a crowd of curious Dwarves. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this in the office.¡±


    Whistlemop sighed. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s.¡±


    The three of us made our way to the basement, which contained a massive storage cave as well as Whistlemop¡¯s - and my - office. The room was lushly appointed with a couch, several plush chairs, a somewhatrge coffee table, thick carpeting, cozy yellow lighting, oh - and a small forgotten work-desk tucked in a corner. Smoked-ss windows gave us some privacy from prying eyes.


    Whistlemop picked up a te from the table as we entered. ¡°Scone?¡±


    Bimbleberry instantly brightened to the level of the <i>sun</i>. ¡°Made by Bran?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Emma dropped my breakfast off this morning.¡± Whistlemop nodded, and used a small knife to cut a trio of orange and green flecked scones in half.


    ¡°Then I would <i>love</i> one, thank you.¡± Bimbleberry gratefully received a scone and I snatched one from the te as well. We chewed in blissful silence for a while. Bran¡¯s scone-of-the-day was an onion-garlic-cheese affair, with chives in it. It had a crunchy exterior, but the interior was light and ky. I closed my eyes and took in a deep sniff, enjoying the heady scent of garlic mixed with cheese. The scones were a tad under-salted for my taste, but I was ruined from years of Earth fast food.


    ¡°Any butter?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You would <i>ruin</i> such perfection with condiments?¡± Whistlemop asked, aghast.


    ¡°Just asking.¡± I grumbled, and finished off my scone in several quick bites. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to sit around though, I have a meeting with Malt after this. Whistlemop, this finely dressed gentlegnome is Bimbleberry, Bimbleberry this annoying blowhard is Whistlemop.¡±


    Whistlemop almost popped. ¡°Blowhard!?¡±


    ¡°See? He admits he¡¯s annoying.¡±


    Whistlemop looked like he was giving serious consideration to stabbing me with his scone-knife. Thankfully I was saved by Bimbleberry.


    ¡°Greetings and salutations Merchant Whistlemop. ¡®Tis a pleasure to meet you. I¡¯m a Titled [Butler], and was in service to Lord Samuel until just earlier this month.¡± He sketched a perfect little bow.


    Whistlemop choked on his scone. ¡°To a <i>Lord</i>!?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you want to work for <i>ME</i>!?¡±


    Bimbleberry looked down at his scone then up at me. ¡°So long as food like this is included in the contract.¡±


    I nodded and Whistlemop nodded harder. I rolled my eyes at the obvious greed ying across Whistlemop¡¯s features. Then again, it was hard to me him. A pro like Bimbleberry was a treasure worth more than - well, not maybe gold, but at least silver.


    Gold was <i>GOLD.</i>


    ¡°Are you pleased with your prospective employee Whistlemop? And do you see what I mean? If you hirepetent people like Bimbleberry, and keep your build quality high, then <i>you </i>don¡¯t need to be the one greeting people at the door. Your <i>brand </i>will greet them. If you keep wasting your time with the nitty gritty it¡¯ll have the opposite effect, because you won¡¯t be properly managing thepany.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes. You¡¯re right. Tell me more about your job with Lord Samuel, Bimbleberry. Do you know any other nobles?¡± Whistlemop waved me away and soon the two of them were chatting like old friends.


    I left them discussing ways to go about getting a noble sponsorship, Bimbleberry¡¯s eptance as the Emporium¡¯s new chief manager a practically done deal.


    Next on the list was Guild Master Malt.


    ¡ª


    It was a short walk; The Honourable Guild of Brewers had their own Main Store in the Grand Market. They were our healthypetition, though they only sold beer. They had arge outdoor space apportioned for a beer garden outside, and I admired it as I walked by. It was currently full of merrily drinking Dwarves, and a small sign at the entrance said ¡°no outside drinks allowed¡±. I frowned at the clear attack on our ale; Thirsty Goat was pretty much the only ¡®outside drink¡¯ there was at the moment.


    I walked in the front door and greeted the young Dwarfess beside the wee stand. I say <i>young</i>, but she was probably older than me. She had a fuzzy red beard with wavy hair done up in a bun, and was wearing the brown robe of an apprentice brewer.


    ¡°I¡¯m Peter Roughtuff, here to see Guild Master Malt.¡± I said in my most officious air. ¡°I have an <i>appointment</i>.¡±


    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re, you¡¯re¡­! Uh, uh - right away, sir!¡± She said, and almost tripped over her metal-shod boots as she ran into the depths of the store. Time passed, and I looked around the store while I waited, admiring the architecture and deciding if there was anything we could steal - businesswise, I mean.


    The Guild was a single-storey building madergely of stone, with several basement levels likely lurking below. This was in starkparison to the Emporium, which was made in the gnomish style with lots of wood and ss. Other than the walls, theyout was actually quite simr to Whistlemop¡¯s, with arge bar taking up one wall and several disy kiosks throughout. One major difference was that kegs lined the walls instead of magic fridges filled with bottles.


    The names of different Breweries hung above the kiosks, and I read through some of them with curiosity.


    <i>Ruddy Bloodbrews</i>


    <i>Stusk Brewery</i>


    <i>The Sooty Sot</i>


    <i>Moon Over Minnova</i>


    <i>The Rusty Battleaxe</i>


    <i>Marvelous Malts</i>


    I paused as my eyes passed over a pair of kiosks where two disys clearly <i>used</i> to be. One was likely for our dear Thirsty Goat, the other held an aged barrel that read ¡®Browning¡¯ in a faded script. I smirked.


    Au revoir, jerkface.


    ¡°I brought him, Brewer Peter!¡± I looked over to see the front desk Dwarfess pointing Guild Master Malt in my direction. Malt was old, even for a Dwarf, and he walked with a slight limp. His pure-white beard was done up in the traditional style with knots, pleats, and its, and he wore the ck and brown armored robe of an official Brewer. He also smelled faintly of onions and waspletely bald.


    I walked over to greet him. ¡°Hello Guild Master Malt!¡±


    We shared a fist bump and Malt regarded me from beneath bushy eyebrows. His quavery voice and demeanor were spry, even if his joints creaked when he walked. ¡°d you came on time! So many youngsters these days don¡¯t appreciate punctuality!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to waste this opportunity, Master Brewer.¡±


    Malt waved his arm to epass the showroom. ¡°What do you think? Not as fancy as that <i>Emporium</i> of yours, but it¡¯s stood the test of time!¡±


    ¡°It looks great!¡± I said honestly, then pointed back at the sign that read ¡®Marvelous Malts¡¯. ¡°Is that yours? I thought Malt was <i>your </i>name. Were you named after the brewery?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s my family¡¯s brewery. As head of a dwarven n it¡¯s customary that I use the n as my name. Did¡­ did you not know that?¡± He gave me a confuzzled nce.


    ¡°Uh, no, I knew that.¡± I coughed. Right, Goldstone had done pretty much the same, going as Goldstone in public and Jeremiah with family and friends. ¡°I¡¯m here to see you about that thing we were talkin¡¯ about? Could we take this out back?¡±


    Malt gave me a dirty smile. ¡°Are ya invitin¡¯ me out back already, Brewer? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m a married Dwarf!¡± He crossed his legs and blinked demurely.


    ¡°Yearn¡¯s Yams, you know what I mean.¡± I grumbled. ¡°Let¡¯s go somewhere private.¡±


    ¡°Hoooeeee!!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to tell yer wife you were flirtin¡¯ with me.¡±


    ¡°Right this way, Brewer Pete!¡±


    ¡°Uh-<i>huh</i>.¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 11: Guild Politics

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 11: Guild Politics</h4>


    Malt brought me down into the dark ces of the Guild of Brewers. I was on my guard, for there were likely older and fouler things than Malt here, in the deep ces of the Erd.


    I waved my hand in front of my nose and tried not to breathe. That <i>anything </i>could be fouler was questionable, given the intense oniony scent wafting from him and every brewer I encountered. The ce was mostly run by brown robed apprentices and journeymen, and the younger dwarves would bow and scrape and mutter obsequieties as we walked past.


    Every once in a while we met a ck-robed Titled [Brewer] and went through a series of formal greetings before continuing on our way. What should have been a two minute trip down to Malt¡¯s office quickly ballooned into a twenty minute nightmare.


    ¡°It gets a bit much, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Malt asked, as he waved me into a small room on the fourth basement floor.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± I said, trying to sound innocent. Had my thoughts been in on my face? My higher charisma should have taken care of that!


    ¡°Oh, you didn¡¯t need to say anything.¡± Malt chuckled. ¡°Trust me, when you get to my age the formalities all seem a bit pointless. I haven¡¯t got <i>time</i> to waste on bein¡¯ mollycoddled.¡±


    I nodded in appreciation. ¡°Yes, I can see that.¡±


    ¡°Are you calling me old, whippersnapper?¡± Malt snapped, his voice cracking with anger. He peeked back at the apprentices lining the hallway behind us. I shrank back for a moment in shock, then followed his gaze and realized his game.


    ¡°If the boot fits.¡± I replied, my own voice rising to match his.


    ¡°I oughta have you thrown outta here!¡± He bellowed, moving to close the door.


    I pitched my voice to carry down the hall. ¡°I¡¯ll have Whistlemop shut off the flow of bottles to tha whole damn Guild!¡±


    We were ring face to face, visible to the shocked apprentices, right until the moment the door closed.


    Malt immediately plunked down on a plush leather armchair and pulled out a pipe. ¡°Ah, I knew you were a smart one. Well done, well done.¡±


    He lit the pipe and took a drag, the sweet scent of tobo leaves quickly filling the space and overpowering the onions. I wasn¡¯t the biggest fan of pipe-smoke, but it beat onion. ¡°Let them think we¡¯re ying hardball. But really, cutting off the bottle supply? Right when we¡¯re all changing over? That¡¯s dirty pool.¡±


    I grumbled. ¡°You shoved us into the deep end of that dirty pool by kicking us out of the Guild in the first ce. We won that damn Feud, and it was wrong of the Guild to kick us out after everything they did to us.¡±


    Malt sighed and pointed to a in wooden chair across from him. ¡°Sit young [Brewer], and I¡¯ll exin. It¡¯s a bit moreplicated than you might think.¡±


    I took a seat. Malt¡¯s cave-like office was very different from Whistlemop¡¯s, with much less concern forfort - outside of his own plush chair. The walls were essentially in carved stone and the majority of the space was taken up by several desks covered in paper. No plush carpeting or smoked-ss here.


    ¡°Why do I get the shitty chair?¡± I asked.


    Malt sighed and took another drag of his pipe, then billowed out some smoke rings before answering. ¡°This is my personal chair actually, the Guild normally only has those Godsawful wooden affairs, and they¡¯re tha Nether on me back. Pipe?¡± He held his pipe out to me.


    ¡°No thank you, I don¡¯t smoke, it¡¯s - .¡± I paused for a moment, considering. Did I really need to worry about smoke inhtion or lung cancer in a world with magical healing? <i>Especially</i> as a healthy, wealthy, long-lived dwarf with a high vitality?


    Malt shrugged in a ¡®suit yerself¡¯ gesture. ¡°Drink then?¡± He pointed to a small keg and a pair of Whistlemugs on one table.


    ¡°I try not to imbibe during business dealings.¡±


    Malt smiled like a shark. ¡°Ah, much wiser than many of the other [Brewers] I¡¯ve worked with over the years."


    I gulped as I considered the cagey old dwarf in front of me. That offer had been a <i>trap</i>! I wondered briefly if the pipe was spiked with anything, then discarded the thought. There was a pretty major difference between business drinking and literally poisoning your guests.


    I tried to getfortable in my hard wooden chair but quickly gave up. Difort didn¡¯t matter when I wasn¡¯t nning to be here long. ¡°Can we get down to business, Malt? I have another meeting after this.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Malt frowned. ¡°Meeting day is it? My condolences, we¡¯ll get right to things.¡±


    I nodded my head in appreciation. ¡°Thank you. Here¡¯s my reason for visiting: we want to participate in tha Octamillennial Brewing Contest, so we want back in tha Guild.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I figured that would be the case.¡± Malt nodded. ¡°I approve.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate, because I.. <i>what</i>!?¡± I had leaned forward tounch into my spiel and nearly fell to the floor at the sudden turn.


    ¡°I approve.¡± Malt nodded. ¡°These bottles have been great, and regardless of the general feelin¡¯ in the Guild, I think your improvements to the brewing process should be considered. How could we call ourselves followers of Barck and not take this chance to innovate after all? There¡¯s just one, tiny problem.¡±


    I waited for the other steel-shod boot to drop. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°More than half the Guild hates your guts after the incident with the Feud.¡± Malt shrugged.


    ¡°That was <i>not</i> our fault.¡± I protested. ¡°And Browning¡¯s gone now, so why does anyone care?¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t how the membership sees it, they consider the entire event a ck eye for the Guild. And while I have a lot of sway as Guildmaster, I don¡¯t haveplete control over who gets to join.¡±


    My stomach sank. ¡°Is that why we were kicked out? Nobody wanted us around anymore?¡±


    Malt breathed another smoke ring. ¡°Yes and no. When Jeremiah retired, it technically meant you had no more representation in the Guild. Normally it would be a formality to vote in his heir to his old seat - that would be Annie Goldstone. In the case of the Thirsty Goat, the membership declined to vote, effectively removing her.¡±


    I harrumphed. ¡°Bunch of hypocrites. <i>They </i>were the reason Jeremiah retired in the first ce!¡±


    ¡°Hrmmm¡­ I won¡¯t deny that.¡±


    I angrily pursed my lips as I considered my options. Everyone in the Thirsty Goat wanted to take part in the brewing contest, and we needed to be in the Guild to get a crack at it. The event looked to be a ton of fun, and was a great opportunity to spread some of our new brewing techniques.


    Plus, I was pretty sure I needed to be in that contest to win my soul back. When I¡¯d met Barckst year, he¡¯d revealed that he would own my soul until I beat him in a bet. He¡¯d made it pretty clear that he needed a ¡°sufficiently impressive¡± event to give me a crack at winning it back. The Octamillenial was my best chance.


    The entire event was also practically custom designed to help me in my ongoing personal quest to save beer from its terrible predicament. A well-timed stout or a perfectly ced porter couldunch the entire craft brewing industry.


    Well, if the Guild didn¡¯t want us, who cared! I¡¯d go make my own Brewers Guild - with ckjack, and lookers!


    ¡°That isn¡¯t to say that all is lost,¡± Malt continued.


    I focused, my previous worries tossed aside. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Since all you need is a majority of the Guild to approve of you, then the answer to your problem is simple.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ bribe them all with free bottles? I could liberally sprinkle gold around too.¡±


    ¡°Hah, no, though I wouldn¡¯t say no to some free bottles. The answer is to invent something so lucrative for the Guild that the members will be <i>forced</i> to ept you!¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Guildsman</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Get into the Brewers Guild! Do you have what it takes to get enough members on your side? </i><i></i>


    <i>Members Persuaded: 3/16 Dwarves</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Thick Skin]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I actuallyughed. My deep chuckles turned into booming bassughs as my sides shook. My dwarven body could <i>really</i> get that awesome echo on each HA! ¡°HA HA HA! You¡­ you must be joking!¡±


    Malt shook his head. ¡°No,pletely serious.¡±


    I wiped away some tears and mentally clicked on ¡®yes¡¯ for the quest. ¡°You want me to invent something <i>sooo</i> lucrative that all the members of the Guild will want it, and then just <i>share </i>it with you?¡±


    ¡°Why not? You did it once, if my conversations with Whistlemop are to be believed.¡± Malt shrugged. ¡°These bottles and the Whistlestop are perfect for selling beer. I should show you the bottle we¡¯re rolling out at Marvelous Malts!¡±


    Malt rummaged around in a bag set beside him and eventually pulled out a brown one-litre Belgian-style bottle. It was wide at the base with a long body and a short neck. Right where the neck met the body of the bottle there was a bulge of ss to help with pressure. A wire rack at the top held a levered stopper. A sticker on the front dered it to be <i>Marvelous Malt¡¯s True Brew</i>.


    Malt passed it to me and I looked it over. It was very simr to our bottles, though ours used clear ss.


    ¡°Why the brown ss?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It matches the colour of the beer!¡± Malt said proudly. ¡°And they look different from everyone else¡¯s so it¡¯ll stand out in the kiosks when we start putting them out there.


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± I considered it for a while and was struck with a small pang of longing for home. I hadn¡¯t had one of those for a while, but the brown bottle just reminded me so much of standing in the government liquor store, perusing singletons.


    The brown bottle for beer actually had a different use back on earth - it protected the beer from UV rays. Clear bottles were susceptible to spoge and souring whenever they were left in the sun. Brown bottles acted just like sunsses by blocking sr radiation.


    Green bottles became popr during World War One due to the war effort using up all the brown ss production. Green wasn¡¯t quite as good as brown, but it worked well enough at stopping harmful light. Certain brands like Corona didn¡¯t bother with brown bottles at all - after all, who was going to leave a Corona lying around undrunk?


    Sun-spoiling wasn¡¯t going to be a problem underground, but it was good to see the dwarves were future-proofing their beer. When I inevitably figured out how to ship beer to the humannds, those brown bottles woulde in handy!


    Maybe <i>that </i>would get me in the guild¡¯s good graces? A new market? There were two non-imbibing races I had a connection with. The gnomes, and now humans through Kirk. I handed the bottle back to Malt while I considered it. ¡°This looks great. I¡¯m d to see the bottles are doing so well, especially since I get money for every sale.¡± I shed a mischievous grin.


    Malt nodded. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for Whistlemop taking so much of the credit, they might have been enough.¡±


    ¡°First the Whistlemug, and now the bottles too? That Gnome is going to get world famous based on MY inventions.¡± I rubbed the back of my neck and groaned. ¡°Honestly, most of what I can give the Guild they probably aren¡¯t going to want.¡±


    ¡°There is that,¡± Malt nodded. ¡°But it¡¯s your best chance, and you¡¯d be surprised what some of the guild members may be willing to ept. And you don¡¯t need all of them, not even half since some like Drum and myself already like you. You just need enough to tip the majority in your favour.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I rose to leave. ¡°Thank you for your time, Guild Master Malt. I¡¯ll get back to you.¡±


    ¡°Luck of Barck be with you, Brewer Pete. I look forward to seeing what youe up with! Remember, thepetition starts halfway into the 2nd Month, so you don¡¯t have much time!¡±


    Today was the 13th of the 1st month, so I had¡­ just over four weeks. That wasn¡¯t much time.


    I left the Guild of Brewers behind and headed to my next rendezvous. I had a date with a diva.


    Well, it was more of a surprise for a soprano, but still.

 Book 2: Chapter 12: A Pink Raspberry

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 12: A Pink Raspberry</h4>


    Living in a fantasy world gives a man - er, Dwarf - a lot of options. Should I work on learning more magic with Richter? Should I ask Balin to take me into the dungeon? Should I start trying to revolutionize gnomish tinkering with futuristic knowledge? Should I take up an axe and learn how to fight in case I¡¯m ever attacked by monsters again?


    All the options meant I was in danger of losing the plot. A plot whereby I was an interdimensional traveler Chosen from his own ne and ced in a different world by an omnipotent being with a quest to save beer.


    There were seven other souls trying to do the same thing, just for different Gods for different purposes, and all of them had ess to more information and deific intervention than I did. The Chosen werepeting to see who could inflict the most <i>change</i> on the world, and thereby earn a wish.


    I paused in midstep. Was¡­ was Barck actually omnipotent? My time with him had revealed arger-than-life personality with <i>near-infinite</i> power, but not really omnipotent. He couldn¡¯t create anything that hadn¡¯t been created yet, and seemed to be somewhat rules-limited in how he was allowed to interact with the world.


    Ah well, a thought for another time. I resumed my walk through the Central Square of the Grand Market, and ducked into a small shop. Silks and other fine cloth adorned the walls, and a well-dressed Gnomess perked up as I entered.


    ¡°Hello, dear customer ¨C¡± She began.


    ¡°Sorry, just passin¡¯ through eh.¡± I said, and continued out the back wall. The pop-up shops in the Central Square were mostly made with sticks and cloth for walls, or carriages, or stacked pallets and boxes of wood. That made it easy to duck in and around and through the various stalls. As I walked between two fairlyrge wooden carriages, one decked out in sausage, and the other in fish, I donned a blonde false beard and a bva.


    It wasn¡¯t guaranteed that Malt would send someone to follow me, but it¡¯s what <i>I</i> would have done if a business rival announced they were going to an important meeting. The old Guild Master Browning was a bit too up his own beard to do so, but Malt struck me as smart enough to consider corporate espionage.


    That was a problem, because my next meeting needed to be extra secret. Now fully disguised, I stepped out from between the two wagons. I paused at a small kiosk selling books - namely non-fiction and history books - and watched carefully. No pursuers stood out, so either I was being paranoid for no good reason or I¡¯d properly lost them. Either way, it was time to go. The Cathedral of the Gods sat a close distance away, and I could see my quarry standing on the steps impatiently tapping her foot.


    She was dressed simrly to me, with a scarf, hood, and loose baggy clothing. Whereas I wore a mining helmet, she wore a small gnomish style beanie. Her pink hair was done up in a bun and tucked inside it. If I wasn¡¯t looking for her, I probably wouldn¡¯t have recognized her.


    I took a deep breath; it was time to see if we would be friends, or dire enemies. I walked up the steps towards her and coughed to catch her attention, lowering my voice as I did so.


    ¡°Hey there, Delh.¡°


    She whipped around to stare me up and down, looking for a moment like she might bolt. A trio of dwarves walked past her on the steps, and she rxed - someone would need to be an <i>idiot</i> to do anything untoward on the steps of the Cathedral of the Gods. A pair of mithril-ted guards stood a mere dozen paces away and they could probably move faster than the average Dwarf could think.


    ¡°Are you the one that sent me this letter?¡± She asked, holding it up. I nced at the small piece of white note-paper; it was indeed the letter I''d sent through her fan-mail a few days ago.


    <i>Hey there, Delh</i>


    <i>Roses are red, violets are blue, </i><i></i>


    <i>This is a poem that I wrote for you.</i>


    <i>At Midday Miday,</i><i></i>


    <i>On the Stairway to Heaven,</i><i></i>


    <i>Waits another world.</i>


    <i>Sincerely,</i><i></i>


    <i>Your Bud, Weiser.</i>


    I was quite proud of that little bit of subterfuge. A good number of Earth references that would be indecipherable to anyone from Erd, and a haiku just to drive the message home. I nodded.


    She started to speak, and her voice caught in her throat.


    ¡°Are - Are you Budweiser?¡± She began, her voice cracking.


    ¡°I¡¯m more of a Guinness man,¡± I replied, faux offended.


    And then the pop-princess of Minnova, looking for all the world like a run-of the-mill Gnomess, fell into my surprised arms and began crying in wracking sobs.


    ¡ª


    Half an hourter we sat in Joejam¡¯s Cafe, and Berry - as she¡¯d asked me to call her - was finally no longer crying. We still wore our disguises, and I swore gently under my breath as the bloody fake beard drooped into my mug for the umpteenth time. I¡¯d told her to call me ¡®Pete¡¯, and I don¡¯t think she¡¯d realized who I was yet. A good thing, probably.


    ¡°It¡¯s just been so hard, y¡¯know?¡± She whimpered, then took a gulp of espresso.


    The scent in Joejam¡¯s was heavenly to any coffee aficionado. The proprietor, a bespectacled Gnome with a blond goatee named Joejam, had bags of coffee piled behind the counter alongside pots filled with tea leaves. The enormous brass and copper contraptions that he used to make the coffee puttered and popped and burbled merrily as they turned the golden roasted beans into the best damn coffee I¡¯d ever had. And that <i>included</i> Tim Hortons coffee - which wasn¡¯t all it was really cracked up to be, honestly.


    ¡°I admit I had a rough time the first few months.¡± I acknowledged.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know anybody, I didn¡¯t really have any friends when I arrived, and my ''original'' self was pretty much a recluse at Archis Academy. I¡­ I hated it, it was so lonely.¡± She finished thest in an angry whisper.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done pretty well for yourself regardless,¡± I said. ¡°How long have you been here?¡±


    Berry nestled back in her chair. ¡°About two years. You?¡±


    ¡°Same.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Where didjae from, Pete?¡± Berry¡¯s voice, when she wasn¡¯t crying, kind of reminded me of a chipper New-Jersey ent. It was definitely quite different from the somewhat British tones of most other Gnomes.


    ¡°I was originally from the Okanagan, in BC Canada.¡± I stirred my mug thoughtfully, watching the cream spin in eddies.


    ¡°I was from East Orange, New Jersey,¡± Berry said, growing whistful. ¡°I just finished my BA in music, and was in the middle of nailing down a recording deal. It was my dream.¡±


    I winced. ¡°Ouch, that¡¯s rough.¡±


    ¡°I guess? Honestly, I think I¡¯ve been way more sessful here than I ever would have been back - back in my old crib.¡± She looked around for any listening ears. I did as well, but Joejam¡¯s was pretty empty at the moment, with just Joejam, his two helpers, and a single Gnome bent over study papers in a booth a good distance away.


    We looked at each other and nodded. ¡°How did you die? If you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. I was walking to the performing arts center, and then¡­ poof! Here I was! It¡¯s one of the reasons I¡¯ve been pushing so hard. I¡­ didn¡¯t get to lead the life I wanted just as I was living it, y¡¯know? What about you?¡±


    ¡°Cancer. I was nearly fifty though.¡± I shrugged. I¡¯de to terms with my death before I¡¯d even died.


    ¡°Ouch, that¡¯s rough.¡± She winced. ¡°Kids?¡±


    ¡°One, but she was already headed to college.¡±


    ¡°You miss them?¡± She asked, then noticed my face. ¡°Uh, sorry.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°No, it¡¯s alright. I do miss them, but the pain''s dulled. I have a great new family now.¡±


    Tears sprang to Berry¡¯s eyes again and she dabbed at them with a napkin. ¡°I miss mine. My ma, sis¡­ bro. I¡¯m so damn homesick. Everyone down here has beards, and I¡¯d kill for some ma''s gumbo or MickeyDs or Jesus Christ, even some disco fries. Fuck, I miss deep-fried food.¡±


    I flinched, I hadn¡¯t heard someone use an Earth swear in¡­ almost exactly two years. ¡°What about your new¡­ er, self?¡± I waved to indicate all of her. ¡°Did you get a new name? Mine is essentially the same.¡±


    ¡°The name¡¯s pretty close, actually. My name was Raspberry before.¡± She blushed. ¡°Ma thought it would be funny, a Raspberry from Orange. I always hated it. Now with the pink hair? It fits¡­ The records at City Hall say my new Ma and Da both died in a monster attack a long time ago, so I¡¯m a ward of the state. At least I didn¡¯t need to worry about tuition.¡± She chuckled darkly.


    It sounded like I was doing a bit better in this world, emotionally at least. I had a loving brother and caring friends, a full family practically. It looked like Berry mostly had hangers-ons and groupies. That was¡­ a rough ce to be. I thought back to Michael Jackson, Kurt Kobain, and countless other music stars. They flew high and burned in the light of the sun.


    I could do with changing the subject; this was clearly a sore point for her.


    ¡°How much do you know about¡­ uh, the Game?¡± I asked, hesitantly.


    ¡°Oh, the Big Guys¡¯ Great Game?¡± She nodded, pointing a finger upwards. ¡°I heard about it. I already spoke to my sponsor.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Me too.¡± I nodded. ¡°What did they tell you? We canpare notes, and not just musically!¡± Really, I was angling to find out who her sponsor was. That was useful information.


    ¡°God, you really were a dad. My sponsor didn¡¯t tell me much, just that I waspeting. He said that anything he could tell me would hurt my growth, and I should just do what I was doing. He gave me some bougie magic tools, but that was it."


    I grumbled. ¡°Mine said much the same, but I didn¡¯t get any cool stuff. He also revealed that he owns my soul, so you may want to check up on that.¡±


    Berry nodded. ¡°Oh, I got mine back already.¡±


    ¡°Scuse me?¡± My vision was arrested.


    ¡°Yeah, he said that ''any nascent control over my erstwhile spirit would negatively impact my creativity''.¡± She made finger quotes as she spoke.


    My first thought was that sounded suspiciously like what a God of Knowledge would say. My second thought was -


    ¡°You got yours back for <i>free</i>!? That sunnovanannygoat! By Aaron¡¯s Freckled Arse, the next time I see ¡®im I¡¯m gonna twist his beard until it takes him a millennium to detangle!"


    Berry tittered. ¡°What? You¡¯ve really gone full native, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    I paused mid-rant; I already knew Barck was a jerk so this news wasn¡¯t <i>really</i> news. ¡°You haven¡¯t? Didn¡¯t you get the [Otherworlder] Ability?¡±


    ¡°Yeaaaah, but I dropped that shit into my first Specialization.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Did you not get quests? Why did you give it up?¡±


    Berry sipped thest dregs of her coffee and nodded. ¡°I hated the quests. It felt like I was like, being creeped on, what with all those little pop-ups, y¡¯know?¡±


    ¡°Has your progression slowed down?¡± I frowned. [Otherworlder] had been the single best Ability I¡¯d had, and I¡¯d gone out of my way not to lose it when I Specialized. I now had [Minimap], whichbined [Otherworlder] with a customizable 20 metre radar. It single-handedly turned my existence on Erd into the world''s greatest VRMMO.


    ¡°Sure, but whatevs, I have hundreds of years to make it up. If I''m not out of here first.¡± Berry waved it off and went up to go get another drink.


    I watched as she ordered and waited at the counter for her next coffee. Her decision was¡­ naive. But then she didn¡¯t have close friends to help guide her into smart Erdly decisions. If it wasn¡¯t for Balin I likely would have taken [Chosen Alchemist] with its amazing infinite ingredient cheat. She¡¯d probably made the exact <i>opposite </i>decision.


    Berry came back to the table with - what else - a raspberry shortcake. My stomach rumbled as I stared at it. Joejam¡¯s cafe mostly served Gnomes, so ny percent of his stuff used wheat.


    ¡°What¡¯s yer Title?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I started out as a [Herald] and now I¡¯m a [Chosen Soul-Singer],¡± she said, then frowned. ¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t be telling you that¡­¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m an [Otherworldly Brewer]. I only tell people thest part though. I''m working for a local brewery, actually.¡±


    ¡°Hah! I don''t tell people the Chosen bit either!!¡± She really did have a niceugh, it was bright and merry without being too high-pitched. ¡°Hey hey, you managed to get into a brewery, aren¡¯t they like, controlled or something? I mean, I knew you were working in Minnova, but I always figured you were that Whistlemop guy. Wait, a [Brewer]¡­ with the name Pete¡­¡±


    She stared at me more closely, then her eyes widened.


    ¡°You! <i>Youuuuuu</i>!!!¡± She stood up then sat immediately back down as the attention of the cafe turned towards us. She made throttling motions with her tiny gnomish hands. ¡°You¡¯re the <i>butter bastard</i>!¡± She hissed.


    I waved my hands catingly. ¡°Now that was entirely <i>not </i>my fault. I needed to win thatpetition to save my new home. We didn¡¯t know each other at the time, and besides, you blew out my eardrums first.¡± And all¡¯s fair in love and war - I carefully <i>didn¡¯t</i> say.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: All¡¯s Fair in Love and War 1/7</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve discovered your first other Chosen, now sabotage them! </i><i></i>


    <i>Chosen Sabotaged: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Karmic Reversal + 1]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Not now, Barck. I have a conversation to salvage. Gods, I hope nobody gets that Quest aimed at ME!

 Book 2: Chapter 13: The Magic of Friendship

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 13: The Magic of Friendship</h4>


    Aqua arrived at the Thirsty Goat, absolutely exhausted. Annie had her running ragged trying to take advantage of the empty space left by the dissolution of Browning Brewery. She popped her knees, and adjusted the flowers in her tealish-blue beard; she put a lot of effort into looking like she wasn¡¯t putting a lot of effort into her appearance. Between her collection of fashionable dresses and her very expensive silver armour ents, she was quite the fetching dwarfess if she said so herself. Her minecart brought <i>all</i> the boys to the dive.


    Not that she was really interested in dating right now - there was just too much going on at work. The Thirsty Goat was barely recognizablepared tost year. The people she loved were the same, and the building was in the same ce, but now it was bustling and bursting at the seams with energy.


    She loved it.


    And it was all the fault - or rather the vision - of one singr dwarf. Aqua scraped some mud from her shoes as she stepped over the threshold of the Thirsty Goat. A fresh painting on the wall contained said dwarf,ughing alongside Annie, Johnsson, Richter, John, and herself. Pete¡¯s face was like an open book, mouth wide inughter and eyes twinkling - probably at some awful pun.


    Pete¡­ Pete wasn¡¯t an open book. He was a mystery. He¡¯de to them as an amnesiac, but Aqua was absolutely certain that wasn¡¯t true. Annie and Balin clearly knew what was going on, and it hurt that they didn¡¯t trust her with the truth. She and Annie were practically sisters, and knowing that some new dwarf could just walk in and upend that rtionship stung. Boys <i>sucked</i>.


    Aqua ran one hand along the counter as she made her way through to the mess hall. On the other hand, Tiara knew Pete had been good for the Thirsty Goat. Between his new brew, the Whistlemugs, and the brewpub, they were finally out of theva and into the vein. Annie was walking around with a stupid grin on her face all the time - when she wasn¡¯t smooching Balin that was. Plus, the new brewpub really, <i>really</i> appealed to the extrovert in Aqua. There was always new stuff to do and people to meet. Kirk Manly was just her style, and she actually <i>enjoyed </i>teaching him the ropes of waitering.


    And of course, she couldn¡¯t forget that the only reason they had Bran was because of Pete. Ah, Bran - Opal was one lucky dwarfess. He had that dreamy mop of curly ck hair, and that chiseled close-cropped beard¡­ Aqua took a deep breath as she walked into the brewpub, inhaling the scent of fried, baked, and boiled delights. Of course, she couldn¡¯t forget the scrumptious treats she got to eat every single day! If her tight fitting skirt was any indication, she was going to need to cut back on sweets. She swore that the cook was going to be the death of everyone at the Thirsty Goat. They¡¯d all balloon up and explode, cream filling flying everywhere.


    As she walked into the pub, Aqua spotted two figures sitting at a table eating fries. One was Pete, oddly enough in the silly ¡®miner¡¯ disguise he sometimes used. The other was a gnomess, and she was voraciously focused on her te of fries. Aqua decided to give Pete a little jump scare. That would teach him to eat fries without inviting her!


    The gnomess seemed oddly familiar, but she couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on it¡­ oh well. She rose up behind Pete, preparing to grab his long brownish-red hair and give it a yank, when the gnomess turned around and spotted her.


    And Aqua saw her face.


    ¡ª


    Berry didn¡¯t kill me in the end.


    I like to imagine it was my winning personality and handsome charm, but it was more likely because I promised to get her a burger and fries. She relented, but only with a promise that there would be gravy.


    I agreed, and we moved our meeting from Joejam¡¯s to the Thirsty Goat. En-route we chatted about our status as Chosen, as well as my idea for a partnership. I wouldn¡¯t say we were friends at this point, but Berry seemed desperate for something from home, and I fit the bill.


    I¡­ turned down Barck¡¯s quest. Interestingly enough it didn¡¯t disappear, but simply became ¡°Inactive¡±.


    The brewpub was closed every afternoon for brewing and cleaning, and it only took a bit of convincing to get Bran to make us burgers and a heaping te of fries. Well, Bran took a <i>lot </i>of convincing, but most of it was done by a squealing Lemontwist. I could <i>feel</i> her move from shipping me and Annie to shipping me with Raspberrysyrup.


    Berry and I sat down to talk a bit more about home, then buried ourselves in burgers. Each burger was made with a thick b of perfectly browned goat-meat coated in a gooey mass of cheese. Fried curly onions sat on a bed of crispy lettuce, and the bun itself was a fresh erdroot brioche bought from the bakery this morning.


    It was a brief moment of delicious bliss. So, I waspletely surprised when a scream and some crashing furniture from behind interrupted my grazing of fries with a side of mayo. I recognized the voice, so I took my time finishing my current golden and crispy fry. There are many who say ketchup is the perfect condiment for fries, and others whoude the extravagance of aioli. They all pale inparison to the simple deliciousness of in mayo. I¡¯d fallen in love with it while visiting Munich with Caroline.


    I turned my head to see Aqua, who was sitting on the floor and backed up against a collection of fallen benches. She was pointing a shaking finger at Raspberrysyrup, who wore a bemused expression.


    ¡°Y-y-y-y-...¡±


    Berry hopped down from her seat and swept her cloak off with a flourish. It revealed a somewhat ostentatious pink halter top over a pair of baggy sweats. She flicked her hair, and the bun fell apart into a series of small braids best described as ¡®haute messy¡¯. She nted her feet, put her hands on her hips, and dered.


    ¡°That¡¯s right honey, I¡¯m Raspberrysyrup - <i>in the flesh</i>!¡±


    I snorted, then jumped up and rushed over to support Aqua as she fainted dead away. Berry giggled.


    The two of us maneuvered Aqua¡¯s limp form to a safe position and waited for her to awaken. Thankfully we didn¡¯t need to wait long; Aqua woke with a start a minute or twoter, realized her head was on Raspberrysyrup¡¯sp, and then promptly fainted again.


    Bran stuck his head out of the kitchen transom to voice his discontent. ¡°You lot, stop that! A pair of grown dwarves er, and gnome, teasin¡¯ like tots.¡±


    ¡°A¡­ but it¡¯s so much fun.¡± I grumbled.


    Berry sighed. ¡°Yes, but I want to finish my fries and then get back to discussing your rather <i>fascinating</i> proposal.¡± She struggled to lift Aqua off herp and gave me a pleading look.


    ¡°Right, right.¡± I picked Aqua up andid her down on a bench. Some smelling salts and a quick round of ¡®dodge the angry dwarfess¡¯ter, and we were all sitting on the bench digging in - which was a very dwarven way to eat,e to think of it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it!!!¡± Aqua repeated for the half-dozenth time. ¡°Raspberrysyrup, in <i>MY PUB!</i>¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually <i>my</i> pub,¡± I grumbled. ¡°And Annie¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you, Pete!¡±


    ¡°Aqua, this is Raspberrysyrup, Berry, this hyperactive bundle of joy is Aqua. Ow!¡± I rubbed my shin where Aqua had kicked it under the table.


    Raspberrysyrup smiled winningly and looked Aqua up and down. ¡°Nice to meet you Aqua, but I think I¡¯ve seen you before? Weren¡¯t you the one that confiscated my fans¡¯ signs at the Barck Beer Brawl?¡±


    Aqua flushed pinker than Berry¡¯s hair. ¡°I¡¯m soooooooo sorry. I didn¡¯t know who you were at the time, and they were blocking our view, and I really love your music, I¡¯ve been to all your shows, but I always need to go in disguise and I regret it so much, and - ¡° She gasped in a breath, and Berry held up her hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Aqua! I couldn¡¯t possibly stay mad at a fan. All is forgiven, and I¡¯ll tell them to take your face off of the ¡®no entry¡¯ sign at my shows.¡±


    Aqua gasped.


    I pouted, ¡°What about me?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to earn it.¡± Berry sniffed. ¡°And Aqua, all my friends call me Berry.¡±


    Aqua shrieked. Possibly the highest pitch I¡¯d ever hearde from a dwarven set of lungs. ¡°EEEEEE!!!!¡±


    ¡°Eeeeeeghhh¡­¡± I groaned. ¡°Aqua, Berry and I were in the middle of talking shop.¡±


    Aqua quieted down, though she was still hyperventting. ¡°How do you know each other? How did this <i>happen</i>!? Did you already know each other?? Pete, you said you¡¯d heard her songs before, is this because of that!?¡±


    ¡°Actually, Raspberrysyrup may know something about my old hometown. But I asked her to keep it a secret¡± I said, truthfully. Berry looked at me with surprise and Aqua¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I mainly brought her here to discuss business. I¡¯ll tell you all about itter.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Aqua asked, looking between the two of us.


    ¡°Really?¡± Berry asked, looking shocked.


    I nodded. ¡°Aqua¡¯s family. I trust her. But, <iter</i>.¡± I cut off Aqua¡¯s hopeful expression.


    ¡°Fine, what were you two talking about before?¡± She grumbled.


    Berry took a firm bite of her fries, and I took that as my cue to start talking.


    ¡°I want to be a corporate sponsor for Berry, and have her star in some celebrity endorsements.¡±


    ¡°Oh my Gods, really!?¡± Aqua eximed.


    I rubbed my temple. ¡°You don¡¯t know what that means, do you?¡±


    ¡°Does anybody? Bran! What¡¯s a celebrity endorsement!¡± She called out to the kitchen.


    ¡°Dunno, what¡¯s a celebrity? Sounds elvish!¡± Bran shouted back.


    ¡°See? Nobody knows.¡± Aqua sniffed smugly.


    ¡°It means I would be payin¡¯ her to wear Thirsty Goat swag - gear - and talk about our beer whenever possible.¡±


    Aqua¡¯s eyes grew round and she nced at Berry. ¡°What does she get out of it?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Gold is gold.¡±


    Well, that and it would help increase her reach and influence and mine as well.I was also thinking of live events with incredibly expensive beer, but that couldeter.


    We¡¯d decided to go all in on Team America. I wanted it to be Team <i>North America</i>, but that didn¡¯t really roll off the tongue. Neither of us particrly thought we were going to win the wish, and we could always wish <i>both</i> of us home if one of us won. I mean, if that was what we wanted¡­. I did still want it, didn¡¯t I?


    Anyways, both of us were <i>Artistes</i> at heart, so it made sense to coborate. That may have even been why the Gods stuck us in the same city together. It turned out her patron God was indeed Archie, and her reason for being here waspletely and utterly <i>unfair</i>.


    My thoughts were interrupted as Berry wiped her lips clean with a napkin and stood. Her eyes shone with an inner fire as she spoke. ¡°With Pete¡¯s cash and a good campaign, I should be able to expand out of Minnova and into the Capital. I hear Kinshasa is amazing; the entire city is like the Cathedral and the Grand Market. Packed with sights, magic, sounds, everything! I¡¯m going to hit that ce like a hurricane!¡±


    ¡°With some new songs?¡± Aqua asked excitedly.


    "With some new <i>magic!</i>¡± Berry eximed.


    Aqua looked confused. "I didn''t know you were a mage."


    "Just watch, I''ll show you," Berry said, then began to sing. Her voice echoed through the brewpub, high and haunting; a melody I didn¡¯t recognize for once. It was less a song and more an eerie collection of notes in alternating harmony and disharmony. Bran and Lemontwist came out of the kitchen and we all stared at Berry, spellbound.


    Then the lights appeared. We gasped as the music seemed to take actual form, the Aether of the air transforming into motes of fire. The mes took shape into tiny butterflies, which fluttered about, dancing to the unerdly music. One alighted on my hand and I shook it off with a hiss - it didn¡¯t quite burn, but it was hot! As Berry¡¯s voice grew higher and higher in pitch, the butterflies rose up to the ceiling of the pub, fusing together into a rippling sheet of water. The wave rose above our heads and then crashed down upon us. We all jumped, and Lemontwist screamed, but the torrent vanished just before it struck, turning back into a harmless woosh of air.


    We all sat in stunned silence, except for Berry who looked immensely proud.


    ¡°What¡­ what just happened?¡± Aqua whispered.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to take the College of Archis by storm.¡± Berry''s smile was wide and manic. ¡°You don¡¯t need a wand and a bunch of math and sigils to cast spells, just intent and a pattern. Did you see!? I¡¯ve discovered the secret to <i>musical Magic</i>!¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 14: Liquid Gold

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 14: Liquid Gold</h4>


    ¡°And here¡¯s the brewroom!¡± I waved my hand expansively, taking it all in. The crew was hard at work filling bottles of ourtest batch of <i>New Brew</i>.


    Moony and Markus were bent together chatting while they used an industrial bottle stick to fill bottles. They looked over and waved, but didn¡¯t otherwise approach. They may not have known who Raspberrysyrup was, or didn¡¯t want to bother their knees with getting up.


    The same was true for Richter and John, who were currently cleaning and sanitising therge copper boiling kettle. The sanitisation step was all my idea, and while initially unpopr, everyone wasing around. The rtiveck of bad batches definitely helped.


    Finally, Kirk was helping Zirce and Emma clean the rafters. Emma was holding buckets and cleaning equipment down on the ground, and giggling at Kirk and Zirce. Therge human was holding the somewhat petite Zirce aloft by her ankles while she cleaned the parts he couldn¡¯t quite reach alone. It was a testament to his strength stat, but that didn¡¯t stop Zirce from swearing up a storm.


    ¡°By Lunara¡¯s ck Lace, I swear I will bite yer elfin knees off if ya drop me Kirk! Ahhh!!! Aaron¡¯s Fancy Freckled ARSE!¡± She swayed unsteadily and grabbed onto a crossbeam. Her permed pink beard was flecked with soap, likely from an earlier desperate tumble.


    Kirk adjusted his grip. ¡°I promise not to drop you, Zirce, but this would be much easier if you stopped trying to stomp on my face so often!¡±


    The twins giggled, by which I assumed the entire bncing act was in fact, an act. I cleared my throat.


    ¡°Ahem, as you can see Berry, we have quite the eclectic crew here. I don¡¯t see Johnsson, but he may just be using the John. Heh.¡±


    ¡°Oooooh, I do see.¡± Berry cooed. ¡°Or I <i>would</i>, if you took this <i>blindfold</i> off me!!¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Brewroom rules, sorry. You aren¡¯t a full member yet, we only let Bran in here after almost a year, and Kirk only gets to go blindfold free because well, nobody wants to clean the rafters without him.¡±


    Aqua grumbled. ¡°I still think we could let <i>Rasperrysyrup </i>go without a blindfold.¡±


    ¡°If <i>you</i> want to get in trouble, be my guest.¡± I sniffed. I had zero interest in getting harangued by Annie over it.


    Kirk and the two sisters saw us and waved. Then Zirce stopped cleaning and stared. Then she screamed, and Kirk almost dropped her. Then Emma started screaming. Then I heard another feminine screech from behind us, and turned to see Johnsson returning from the bathroom - wow, that Dwarf had quite the pair of lungs.


    And then as one they all screamed. ¡°RASPBERRYSYRUP!?¡±


    Meanwhile, the blindfolded Berry took a step backward. ¡°Uh¡­ what¡¯s happening?¡±


    I muttered, ¡°Your adoring fans,¡± as the avnche descended.


    ¡ª


    I was overruled.


    It turned out the ¡®outsiders need blindfolds in the brewroom¡¯ rule only applied to <i>plebs</i>, and not <i>high-muckity-mucks</i> like <i>Raspberrysyrup</i>.


    Zirce and Emma immediately took over the entire tour, merrily leading Berry around to exin how everything worked. Oh, but ¡®keep it a secret just between us girls, ok¡¯? I groaned as Zirce went into <i>painstaking</i> detail over how our super-secret hopback worked.


    ¡°You fine, Pete?¡± Richter asked,ing up behind me.


    ¡°I¡¯m just <i>pete-chee</i>. Thanks for asking.¡±


    ¡°Dunno what all da fuss is about meself.¡± Richter shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t follow da music scene.¡±


    ¡°Oh? You aren¡¯t swayed by her ¡®celebrity mystique?¡¯¡± I asked, making air-quotes.


    ¡°Nope. Dunno what a celebrity is, but she¡¯s just not my mug of ale.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t think you¡¯ll ever be her fan?¡± I raised an eyebrow.


    He shook his head resolutely. ¡°Nope, nevah.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡± I let the silence drag on for a moment, then hit the magic maniac with a bomb. ¡°She discovered a new form of magic.¡± I twiddled my fingers dramatically.


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°Aye, activating spells with sound instead of sigils.¡±


    Aaaaand, he was gone.


    Well, it looked like I had some time to myself. I walked over to four new enormous fermentation tanks in the back of the brewroom. They¡¯d been delivered while I was out with my meetings. Each tank was made of burnished brass rather than wood, and had runes etched around their midsection and bottoms. I ced my hand on one and pulled it back with a hiss. They were freezing! I made a note in my handy dandy personal notebook to have them encased in a more insting material for next time. It looked like I had been right that four was the maximum the Goat could currently hold, though; it was getting a bit tight on the floor.


    I sauntered around them, admiring the excellent gnomish and dwarven handiwork on disy. There was a clear location for a magic stone to be slotted in for charging, and a spigot specially designed for our industrial bottle stick. A heavy lid sat on top of each tank, with a pressure release valve on top and a cantilever for levering the lid off. The loose lid helped keep the cold inside, but also acted as insurance against boom.


    As for what they were for¡­


    ¡°Alright you lot!¡± I called, walking over to the press of bodies around Rasberrysyrup. ¡°I need her back now.¡±


    ¡°We were gettin¡¯ autographs!¡± Zirceined.


    Emma hissed. ¡°Spoilsport!¡±


    ¡°She was showin¡¯ me ¡®er magic next!¡± Richter actually <i>whined</i>.


    ¡°Later! She¡¯s really busy and I need to show her this. You can alle too, it¡¯s time to talk about the new tanks.¡±


    ¡°Those chilly ones?¡± Emma asked. ¡°They¡¯re real cold, you could have warned us!¡±


    ¡°Yer fine, ya big baby.¡± I led the procession over to the tanks. A number of wooden bottle-boxes were collected for temporary seating; Berry at the front, Kirk at the back, and everyone gotfortable. ¡°Now, take a gander at the first tanks for Thirsty Goat¡¯s own Light Brew! Richter, check if these runes are all working while I impressively monologue.¡± I waved expansively over them as Richter bounded over to carefully examine the enchantments.


    ¡°Impressively monologue?¡± Rasperrysyrup gave a wry smile.


    Aqua nodded. ¡°He won¡¯t shut <i>up</i> sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Hush you, I pay your sry. He who pays, says. Now, you all may be wonderin¡¯ why Raspberrysyrup is here, and why I brought you over to the tanks and how it¡¯s all rted.¡±


    There was a general murmur of agreement.


    ¡°The answer is right there behind us! See, I wanted to make some Light Brew, so I had these tanks made. But we¡¯re missing the key ingredient. Then, Balin gave me a brilliant idea!¡±


    ¡°Where <i>is</i> Balin?¡± The elderly dwarfess Moony asked, holding up a hand. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him in ages.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s giving Annie some <i>brilliant ideas</i>.¡± Johnsson quipped, and the grumble guffawed.


    ¡°*Ahem* Balin gave me the idea to make a blonde ale instead of ager, and that got me thinking about strawberry blondes, and <i>that</i> got me thinking about Raspberrysyrup here! I¡¯ve been trying to figure out how to work with her since - well, for a while now. I think this new ale is a perfect opportunity tounch an <i>advertising campaign</i>. Berry¡¯s music is new and our beer is new, so let¡¯s get all the ¡®new¡¯ in one ce! Blonde ale tastes kind of like a cross between Light Brew and True Brew and has a colour like spun gold, so we¡¯ll call it Liquid Gold! The slogans write themselves!¡±


    There was a murmur of appreciation, though Markus and John looked unconvinced.


    Emma turned to Berry. ¡°How <i>did</i> he rope you into this, Berry?¡±


    Berry gave a malicious grin. ¡°He wrote me a <i>love </i>poem.¡±


    The room erupted. AGAIN.


    It took a while to calm things down, though nobody bought my ¡®it was all a cunning ploy¡¯ defense. Bah. Humbug.


    I cleared my throat and finally caught everyone''s eyes. ¡°Can I finish my story now? Long story short, I want to make a blonde ale with these and pair up with Berry for marketing. I think we can do something like what we did with our tavern minstrels during the Feud, but bigger.¡±


    Markus put up his hand and I pointed at him.


    He spoke with a slightly quavery Minnovan ent. ¡°That¡¯s all well and good, Peter, but¡­ what¡¯s a blonde ale?¡±


    ¡°And here we go¡­¡± Aqua groaned sotto-voce. I ignored her and gave Markus a gleaming smile.


    ¡°So d you asked Markus! A blonde ale is - uh, <i>will </i>be named after its - what I <i>guess </i>will be, bright yellowish-golden tint; it¡¯ll look quite simr to ager - er Light Brew. We need these marvelous cooling tanks, to make ager, but they¡¯ll do it fer a blonde too. That¡¯s because a blonde needs a low temperature, just like ager. Does anyone here know how Light Brew is made?¡±


    Man, a 15 charisma meant nothing in the face of an opportunity to info-dump. Great job Pete, they probably don¡¯t suspect a <i>thing</i>.


    John put up his hand and I pointed at him. ¡°The mash and wort steps are the same, but Light Brew is kept cold and takes a longer time than True Brew. It also needs a different Ancestral Seed, which we don¡¯t have.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! Ager needs to ferment over at least a month, and ain¡¯t nobody got time for that! So, we¡¯re making blonde ale instead. A blonde ale uses the same Ancestral Seed as our regr brew, and only requires two weeks of fermentation time!!¡±


    My eyes sparkled as I considered my first brand new kind of ale. Our Ass-ster and New Brew were just variations on the True Brew theme. This new beer would be a brand new addition to the beers of Crack!


    Blonde ales were considered a bit easier to drink than a regr ale. They were smoother going down, and gave a more refreshing feeling. They made perfect summer drinks, especially with a slice of orange or lemon to apany them. In fact, they were often imparted fruity vours with adjuncts during the boiling stage, but I was holding off on that for a while yet.


    ¡®Regr Ale¡¯ mostmonly referred to bog standard Brown ale, which was what Dwarven True Brew was. Brown ale was notable for its thick dark malts, and slightly nutty caramel taste. Other popr ales included Belgian ales, old ales, scotch ales, and pale ales. Most different ales were a result of novel yeasts or differing fermentation times. Belgian ale used Belgian yeast, old ale was fermented for a longer time with a secondary yeast, et cetera.


    Pale ale was a bit different, as it used apletely different malt from regr ales. Pale ales used, well, pale malts. ¡®Pale malt¡¯ and ¡®dark malt¡¯ referred to the type of barley used in the malting step, and while it was definitely interesting science, I¡¯d almost never needed to worry about it. I¡¯d contact the malthouse and say ¡®pale malt please¡¯ and they¡¯d send it on. I was going to need to buy a malthouse and then test every single possible grain to find which were pale, which were dark, et cetera. I actually had no idea how our erdroots were malted.


    Should I be happy or sad? Happy, definitely happy.


    ¡°He¡¯s doing the thing again. Richter, give him a smack.¡± Johnsson snipped.


    I ducked and Richter¡¯s hand swung over my head. ¡°I was just thinking. Anyways, what do you all think? The Thirsty Goat and Rasperrysyrup! Liquid Gold is Gold! If we¡¯re lucky we¡¯ll be able to head to the capital together!¡±


    Aqua held up her hand, her face beaming. ¡°Does that mean we¡¯re back in the guild?¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°Ahhhhh¡­ nooooo. But! But! Malt says we cane back if we convince a majority of the breweries to like us.¡±


    ¡°How are we gonna do that?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°Annie practically grew up underfoot for a lot of them,¡± Aqua said. ¡°We could ask her to make some inquiries.¡±


    I pointed at Aqua. ¡°Great n! Any more?¡±


    ¡°More new beers!¡± Emma and Zirce said at the same time, then looked at each other andughed.


    ¡°I agree; I was thinking of expanding to the human or gnomish markets.¡± I said, shrugging.


    There was a sucking in of breath, as though everyone got punched in the gut at the exact same time. Kirk and Raspberrysyrup looked as confused as I did.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You can¡¯t sell tha¡¯ Sacred Brew of tha dwarves to the humannds!¡± Was what I was able to glean from the din that followed.


    ¡°Just like you can¡¯t change the Sacred Brew of tha dwarves?¡± I said. ¡°Does nobody remember THAT?¡±


    The grumble paused and considered. Johnsson spoke first.


    ¡°Well, why not? Kirk loves it, and I don¡¯t see why gnomes shouldn¡¯t be drinking it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that!¡± Berry said. ¡°It¡¯s a bit too thin for my taste, and I don¡¯t like the malty vour of ale.¡±


    ¡°Blonde ale might help with that?¡± I said hopefully. But in my heart I knew it wasn¡¯t likely to be true. The gnomish palette was quite different from dwarves. They preferred a lot of tannins - like in wine, or fruity sour vours with a little tannin - like juice or lemonade. Dwarves preferred a strong bitter taste with no tannins.


    Berryughed. ¡°I personally prefer a nice margherita myself, or a mojito. Though I do miss a nice light hefeweizen.¡±


    ¡°A what??¡± Aqua asked. "Dear Gods it''s like talking to Pete!"


    ¡°<i>Hefeweizen</i>. It means ¡®yeast wheat¡¯ but it really refers to a specific kind of unfiltered top-fermented wheat beer.¡± I said, then stopped.


    You could have heard a pin drop. As one, the eyes of everyone except Berry turned to look at a vat of worthless, useless, beer that had been the bane of my existence for almost a month. A vat full of beer that gluten intolerant dwarves couldn¡¯t touch without getting the <i>bad </i>kind of tummy rumbles. A vat full of <i>wheat beer</i>, with a slight amount of tannins, and a slightly fruity taste.


    I don''t know why <i>I </i>didn''t think of testing the wheat beer on Beatbox or Lemontwist already, or heck, even Kirk. My only excuse was that my ''influence'' quest specified dwarves, so I''d been hyper-focused in that direction, and only recently started considering gnomes as a possibility.


    "But gnomes <i>hate</i> beer¡­" Johnsson muttered.


    "It¡¯s worth a try." I grinned like the Cheshire cat. ¡°Hey Berry, want a drink?¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 15: Wheaty Bits

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 15: Wheaty Bits</h4>


    Wheat beer, especially a hefeweizen, looks a little different from regr beer. To start, it¡¯s usually a pale yellow, the colour of sun-baked straw, and has a scent reminiscent of crackers with citrus. Most ales are a slight amber brown, and rtively transparent, while unfiltered wheat beers, like hefeweizen, can be recognized by their signature wheat-protein haze.


    The mostmon wheat-beers avable in Canada are the ubiquitous German hefeweizen, and its cousin the Belgian witbier. Both are top fermenting with a mix of wheat and barley. Hefes use malted wheat, while wits are made without bothering to malt the wheat at all. This lends hefes a sweeter, more roasted vour while wits taste a bit¡­ doughier.


    Hefes are actually regted by severalws in their native Germany. There¡¯s onew that says they <i>must</i> be top fermented, and several others rted to allowable ingredients. The original hefes, also called <i>weissbiers </i>were originally <i>illegal</i> due to aw called the Reinheitsgebot. Reinheitsgebot means <i>beer purityw</i> - which is probably the most German thing I¡¯ve ever heard of. It originated in the city of Munich in 1487 due to grain scarcity, but spread to most of Germany in 1516. The Reinheitsgebot required all German beer to be made of only barley, water, or hops. Yeast was addedter, for obvious reasons.


    Wheat was added to the Reinheitsgebot by royal decreeter on to make hefes legal, but thewsted rtively unaltered for over 500 years until it was modified by EU free-trade regtions. While the ingredients have changed slightly, and imported beers are allowed to be called ¡®beer¡¯, German breweries are still required to follow the Reinheitsgebot if they want to call their drink ''<i>beer''</i>.


    I preferred hefes myself, but had been forced to make a Belgian witbier due to ack of malted wheat. I¡¯d found the vour¡­ passable, though I was still using the damnable disgusting gruit mix that went into our other beers. My one sip had been an <i>experience</i>, which meant I was actually kind of nervous as I poured Berry a drink straight from the tank.


    Raspberrysyrup held it to her nose and sniffed it, gave a shrug, then drank slowly from the tankard of frothy yellow beer. She finished one mouthful and then swished a second around between her cheeks, her dimples popping out in turn. She took another sip and swallowed with a gulp then regarded the crowd.


    ¡°It¡­ tastes like beer?¡± She said, and I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been holding in. I¡¯d been expecting a speech on the level of Richter¡¯s first taste of bottle-conditioned beer, but that was perhaps too much to ask.


    ¡°That¡¯s good, right?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not really a beer drinker, so I couldn¡¯t say.¡± Berry shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t <i>dislike </i>it though, and I <i>hate</i> dwarven beer.¡±


    ¡°No wonder she gets along so well with Pete!¡± John quipped and the grumble chuckled.


    Emma chimed in brightly. ¡°If it isn¡¯t <i>terrible</i>, that¡¯s great! Most gnomes I¡¯ve spoken to say beer tastes like cat piss!¡±


    ¡°You know, there¡¯s a lot of gics that goes into how each individual perceives tha taste of beer-¡± I began.


    ¡°No monologues!¡± Richter, Johnsson, and Aqua shouted as one. I pouted.


    ¡°Why would dey know what cat piss tastes like?¡± Richter muttered as everyone began asking questions at once.


    ¡°Would ya drink it again?¡± ¡°What¡¯s it taste like!?¡± ¡°Do ya like it better than tea?¡± ¡°Does it give yer tummy cramps?¡± ¡°That¡¯s just dwarves, ya ninny!¡± ¡°What did you call me, Zirce?¡± ¡°A, is all that time at tha beardy parlour hurting your hearing Johnsson?¡± ¡°You could use a bit less time at the parlour yourself, frizzface!¡±


    We ignored Johnsson and Zirce as they went at it. Aqua took me aside while Emma hummed and haa¡¯d about whether sharing a tankard with Raspberrysyrup was worth the runs.


    ¡°Pete, I don¡¯t know if we have the capacity to run a parallel distribution system right now.¡± Aqua said with concern.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, Annie would know more, but I did just spend thest two years being her dwarfsbody. Let me put it this way, how many gnomes do you usually see in the brewpub?¡±


    I began counting down on my fingers. ¡°Well, there¡¯s Beatbox. And Lemontwist. And that gnome with the brown mono-brow. And¡­ that¡¯s it. But we already know that gnomes don¡¯t buy True Brew! With the right advertising, maybe we¡¯ll be able to get them hooked on wheat beer!¡±


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. Even if you can convince them to start drinking wheat beer, they aren¡¯t necessarily going to start visiting our stores. We have a dwarven clientele, full stop; we aren¡¯t set up to distribute to gnomish establishments. We don¡¯t know who they are, or the proper channels at all. Like I said though, you¡¯ll need to talk to Annie.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Ugh¡­ so we don''t just need an ad campaign and a good product, we also need a <i>racial</i> distributor?? I could try to put Whistlemop on it, but he¡¯s busy enough.¡±


    Aqua nodded. ¡°Okay, do you have any other ideas?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but like you said, I¡¯ll need to talk with Annie after her and Balin finish getting ideas.¡±


    Aqua smiled. ¡°Alright. And Pete? Thanks.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°What for? It isn¡¯t as though I got Raspberrysyup <i>just </i>for you!¡±


    Aqua hesitated. ¡°For¡­ for everything. For making my job feel like a home again, and for bringing some light into my life. We were in a really dark ce for a couple years there. I really appreciate it.¡±


    "Aw, you¡¯re wee Aqua! Come¡¯ere!¡± I held out my arms wide. Aqua came in for the hug, and we stood there for a moment. Just a moment though, as we were forced to dodge Johnsson as Zirce chucked him across the room.


    Aquaughed, bright and cheerful, then went to go and peer pressure Emma into drinking the witbier. Kirk was already chugging his third mug.


    I took a deep breath. Alright, I just had to find a distributor, then create an advertising campaign with the city¡¯s only celebrity and convince the entire gnomish poption to drink my new beer. Finally, I needed to win the localpetition for best local brewery, and then go to the capital where I needed to beat a literal God in a bet to win my soul.


    No pressure.


    I looked up to the sky. Barck, wherever you¡¯re watching, I hope you¡¯re enjoying the show. Ya big <i>jerk</i>.


    ¡ª


    Somewhere else.


    On the side of a cliff there stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of seven cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    They were in the middle of a heated discussion as they watched the movement of eight porcin figurines upon a board in the middle of the table.


    Midna, Human Goddess ofmunication and spirit, moaned as her piece made another wrong move. ¡°Noooo! Why would you do that!? Do the thing!! The thing I told you about!!!¡± She pulled at slightly stringy ck hair. She moved to grab a figurine of a human woman holding a book, but a scaled hand smacked her fingers away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t micromanage your Chosen, Midna,¡± Solen, Draconic God of freedom and chaos said firmly. ¡°I don¡¯t need anotherplication like Barck¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Easy for you to say!¡± Midna hissed. ¡°<i>Your</i> Chosen is in the middle of winning his little war!¡±


    Solen¡¯s smug smile was wiped clean as Archis, the Human God of knowledge and magic chuckled at his side.


    ¡°And yet he¡¯s still behind my pink princess. The reason you keep losing the Great Game, Solen, is because there just aren¡¯t enough dragons to impact the board. Maybe try something else next time.¡± Archis¡¯s tone was almost mocking, but not quite.


    Solen¡¯s eyes glittered dangerously as he spoke. ¡°There are <i>plenty enough </i>to affect the Game.¡± As he spoke, his piece moved across the board. Down upon the Erd, a draconic lineage over ten millennia old was snuffed out in that instant.


    Every God at the table stiffened at that.


    ¡°You¡¯d better not be nning what I think you¡¯re thinking!.¡± Aaron, the Beastfolk God of aether and exchangeined. His ears, each simr to the tufts of an owl, twitched in displeasure. ¡°I <i>like</i> my Chosen this round. He¡¯s at a huge disadvantage but isn¡¯t falling behind at all!¡± He nced covetously at a figurine of arge male beastman in broken chains.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. The dragons are sufficiently separated, and adequately hobbled. They''re a non-issue. Let Solen y with them as he likes.¡± Lunara snapped. The Elven Goddess ofw and order stared at her piece with pride. ¡°Mine is doing <i>very </i>well, it¡¯s everything I could have hoped for.¡±


    The assembled Gods turned to look as well. A porcin figure of a dwarf carrying a Shepherd¡¯s crook moved confidently across the board. Down below on Erd, a corrupt dwarven nobleman discovered that tormenting the servants responsible for bringing him dinner was a fatal mistake.


    ¡°I know he¡¯s yours, Lunara, but I got to him first! I like him, and he¡¯s been getting me a <i>lot</i> of new souls!¡± Yearn, Goddess of rtionships andher said. She wasnguishing in the form of a human maiden, though her age flickered between twenty and two hundred.


    ¡°Maybe focus more on your own Chosen, Yearn. I don¡¯t even understand what he¡¯s doing anymore.¡± Archis said, looking more closely at a figurine of a human holding a whip. ¡°He made one or two quick moves and then stoppedpletely.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s doing <i>something</i>.¡± Solen muttered. ¡°He¡¯s ruing Karma faster than any other Chosen, but not influencing anyone. Has anyone focused on himtely?¡±


    Lunara waved a hand nonchntly. ¡°I always follow Yearn¡¯s work. He was in and out of a few dungeons for a while. But she¡¯s blocked our view of him.¡±


    Solen turned a steely gaze on Yearn, who shrugged.


    ¡°I used his Karma,¡± she said. ¡°The Game allows it.¡±


    Solen blinked. ¡°He had that much already!?¡±


    ¡°Barck¡¯s has more, not that he can use it.¡± She grinned maliciously, her face shifting mercurially into the crocodilian smile of a dragon.


    ¡°Speaking of Barck¡¯s Chosen, I see that he¡¯s moving in tandem with yours, Archis.¡± Tiara, the Gnomish Goddess of matter and possessions observed brightly. ¡°I have high hopes for when they reach my own Chosen. I think he¡¯ll be able to take full advantage of their skills.¡±


    ¡°It remains to be seen if that¡¯s the case,¡± Archis remarked. ¡°It is entirely possible that Peter and Rasperrysyrup never leave the nation of Crack. Not that it really matters; her music magic will spread far and wide even without her direct control.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Though I don''t see ¡®Beer¡¯ traveling much beyond the dwarvennds, I suspect Barck doesn¡¯t care. He¡¯s already gotten more than he wanted.¡±


    Everyone looked out the side of the gazebo, to a bluff where a certain Dwarven God of spark and innovation had been spending his days drinking andughing.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to be insufferable if he wins this,¡± Aaron remarked, idly tapping the marble table with a single extended w.


    ¡°I¡¯m not worried.¡± Lunara remarked, her eyes still glued to the board. ¡°I have little doubt that my Chosen will¡­ deal with it. He really, <i>really</i>, wants to win.¡± Her eyes sparkled and spun, twin gxies set against the midnight sun of herplexion.


    As the Gods watched, the figurines of a small gnomess and a tankard wielding dwarf slowly moved directly into the path of Lunara¡¯s chosen. The Gods grew quiet and watched, as they always watched and would continue to watch into the hereafter.


    The Game was just getting interesting.

 Book 2: Chapter 16: Call in the Copper

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 16: Call in the Copper</h4>


    We sent Raspberrysyrup off with bells and whistles, and then prepared for the dinner rush. Kirk had picked up the ropes over the past couple days, and that removed a lot of pressure from the pub side of things. Bran and Lemontwist were managing the kitchen expertly, and Aqua had discovered she actually <i>liked</i> waitering with Kirk. He was efficient enough that she could focus on seating and taking orders. The two of them were a well-oiled machine, and they even had time to asionally stand at the counter and chat while Johnsson poured drinks. I stood behind the bar and ¡®managed¡¯ while fielding the asional conversation.


    The first to arrive were some regrs, along with Emerelda and Beatbox. Emerelda and I flirted for a while until Rumbob arrived with a ¡®Ho Ho Ho¡¯ and the three pro-drinkers went to party with a crowd of covetous fans. Half-way into the dinner-rush Annie arrived with a slightly shell-shocked looking Balin. We gave them a hard time, but realistically nobody med them. It was hard enough on Annie with Balin being in the dungeon most days, so we let them have their fun while he was around.


    I made a note to have Drum take Jeremiah out fishing tonight. Maybe the two of them could even go camping. Your brother¡¯s got your back, Balin! Of course, if I went back tonight and found our shared t had served as a rumpus room, I was going to put snakes in the sheets. Speaking of which, I¡¯m rich¡­ why am I still sharing a room?


    I was considering whether I wanted to buy a ce here in Minnova or wait until I inevitably went to the capital, when Annie approached me, her face stormy.


    ¡°Pete, Raspberrysyrup was here!?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Raspberrysyrup was <i>here </i>and you didn¡¯t invite <i>me</i>!?¡±


    ¡°You were busy.¡±


    ¡°I would havee for <i>that!!!</i>¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that what you were doing with Balin?¡±


    Annie paused to consider my words and then her face went through a fascinating series of colour changes. The flush started at her neckline, hidden behind her slightly disheveled blonde beard. Then a light pink that swept up to her eyebrows, before it darkened to red. Eventually she began to shake and her forehead became a dark reddish-purple. There was probably a name for that colour. I sighed, reminiscing; Caroline would have known.


    ¡°You, you - ¡° Annie spluttered, pulling back a fist. She usually preferred kicks, but I was on the other side of the bar.


    ¡°Malt says we cane back to the Guild, but there¡¯s a catch.¡± I cut her off.


    Annie paused mid-swing and almost stumbled. ¡°What? Really!¡± She broke into an enormous smile. ¡°How!?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go to the office. Promise not to hit me and I¡¯ll tell you.¡±


    ¡°No promises, let¡¯s go.¡± Annie headed for the door to the brewroom, brushing past Aqua and Kirk who were chatting beside the transom.


    Sigh. I followed behind, then activated [Flesh to Stone] as I passed through the swinging door.


    ¡ª


    Annie stared out the window into the brewroom and tapped her aching foot as she considered my proposal.


    ¡°You think we should use wheat beer to increase the - what did you call it? The target market?¡±


    I nodded enthusiastically. ¡°That¡¯s right! Raspberrysyrup said she didn¡¯t mind tha taste, and she¡¯d be happy to be the ¡®face¡¯ of a new generation of beers.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯spelling.¡± Annie went back behind her desk and sat down. I was seated in the middle of the room where I had easy ess to the door. I was pretty sure she¡¯d calmed down, but you never could tell with dwarves.


    ¡°The only problem is tha distribution. Aqua said to talk to you about it.¡± I said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the <i>only</i> problem, but it will be <i>a</i> problem.¡± Annie nodded, and pulled some papers out of her drawer. They were a long list of names, some of them circled, underlined, or x¡¯d out.


    I leaned in to look. Most of the names were pretty clear - <i>The Drunken Hog</i>, <i>The Watering Hole, </i>et cetera et cetera. It was the name of local pubs and drinking establishments.


    ¡°Are those all the ces you¡¯ve been visitin¡¯ recently?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Annie replied, and circled a few more names. ¡°These were all being served by Browning Brewery. Lots of them have agreed to switch over to us, but a lot of them hate us too.¡± Annie ran her hand through her beard.


    ¡°That¡¯s good?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but not for your idea.¡± Annie shook her head sadly. ¡°We¡¯ll barely have the production capacity to meet all our needs. Between the pub, and all this new business, we¡¯re going to need every single one of our fermentation tanks going at all times.¡±


    I sucked in my breath and looked over to where my four newger tanks sat awaiting their first batch of Blonde Brew. Or Liquid Gold as we were going to call it.


    Annie followed my gaze and cleared her throat. ¡°You can still use those four for your experimenting, that¡¯s fine. I didn¡¯t include them in my calctions.¡±


    I let my breath out in a small *phew*. ¡°We could always expand, maybe buy tha shop next door? Knickknack the gnome is getting ready to retire, so we may be able to buy his daughter out?¡± I brainstormed furiously. ¡°We could also build a second floor, though putting big tanks on anything other than the ground will be a pain. We could also try extending into the Goldstonepound next door, but that would make my job feel a bit too much like <i>home</i>-work. Heh. Or, since we¡¯re y¡¯know, <i>dwarves</i>, we could just build <i>down</i>. It should be easy to find a good diggingpany; maybe someone with a [Mattershaper] on staff?¡±


    Annie nodded, ¡°Expansion may be our best bet; I think you have the right idea. There''s a small group in the Guild that''ll hate us no matter what we do, so making a new brew doesn¡¯t lose us anything there. The rest of them are either so in love with gold, or have a long enough history with the Goldstones that I can change their minds. The poption has been primed with New Brew and Ass-ster for more, and something new will probably be better received than making changes to the existing brew.¡±


    I hopped to my feet. ¡°Let¡¯s do that then! I¡¯ll go put Whistlemop, or rather Bimbleberry, on fetching us a building team. Wait, yer shakin'' your head no, why are you shaking your head no?¡±


    ¡°Because that¡¯s only <i>part</i> of the problem. We¡¯ll need to hire a bunch more people if we expand that much, and I suspect we¡¯ll be inviting trouble at the same time. Sabotage will <i>absolutely</i> be a problem if we start making an entirely new kind of beer. Then on top of that we don¡¯t have any gnomish distributors or trust built up in the gnomishmunity. Why would any of theme buy our new beer?¡±


    ¡°Advertising?¡± I said it, but I didn¡¯t really believe it; advertising could only take you so far. If someone had never worn shoes, showing them Nikemercials was meaningless.


    ¡°Noooo¡­ I¡¯m thinking¡­¡± Annie¡¯s eyes grew distant, and her brow furrowed then grew firm. ¡°I think we should go to one of the existing gnomishpanies. Bring them on as a partner. They can get a new location, a new crew, and handle all the risk themselves.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know much about thosepanies, other than what I¡¯ve picked up working with Whistlemop. I¡¯ve been focused on dwarvenw and n structures in my lessons with Richter,¡± I said nervously. Going to an oligarch felt like bringing a wolf into the fold. ¡°Will the Guild be okay with us showing gnomes how to make their Sacred Brew?¡±


    Annie shook her head. ¡°Technically, as long as the proper contracts are signed, the Guild doesn¡¯t have anything against subsidiaries. It just usually isn¡¯t done because The Honourable Guild of Brewers are such a conservative and secretive bunch. It isn¡¯t unheard of though, especially when a brewing n wants to move a branch to a new city. That¡¯s why it isn¡¯t against the Guild rules.¡±


    ¡°And we need to keep to the Guild rules because we want to get back in.¡± I nodded. ¡°But still, an oligarch?¡±


    Annie drummed her fingers on her desk. ¡°They¡¯re our best bet - a subsidiary n brewery run by another ¡®n¡¯ under contract. It¡¯s never been done with gnomes, and they would technically never be allowed to call themselves ¡®Brewers¡¯, but¡­ it could be done.¡¯


    I held a hand out intively. ¡°Even if it¡¯s not against the rules, I¡¯m not sure that''ll help with our stated goal of getting a majority of the Guild to like us.¡±


    ¡°Like I said, leave that to me. The same dwarves that''ll hate our idea for new brews will hate us using gnomes. There¡¯s no point worrying about them. Leave the Guild side of things to me. If you can make this work, I should have a majority on our side within the month.¡± She drew herself up proudly.


    ¡°Sounds like we have a n.¡± I nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s next? Do you know any Gnomishpanies to approach? I could put Whistlemop on it, but¡­ I don¡¯t think he¡¯s our gnome.¡±


    Annie slumped back into her chair. ¡°I don¡¯t. We may be forced to use him out of necessity.¡±


    The two of us sat and pondered for a while. Whenever I got stuck with problems recently, I liked to toss a [sh of Insight] at it. It often provided unexpected results, helped me remember something important, or simply provided an out-of-the-box solution. I liked to think of it as my own personal Deus Ex Machina.


    There was the usual feeling of pressure in my head when I used the Ability, and when it cleared, I had my answer. Along with a very wee prompt.


    <strong>Ability Improved!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Repeated uses have improved your [sh of Insight]!</i><i></i>


    <i>You may now use it twice a day!</i>


    Score! Ahhh, Archis''s Apples! I should be using [Stoneskin] more often!


    I began to desperately dig through my pockets, praying to all the Gods but Barck that I hadn¡¯t lost what [sh of Insight] had helped me remember. I found it in my breast pocket, a simple square of grey cardstock. Even though it was made of paper it was firm as steel, and an emblem of a ming gear shone upon the front.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Annie asked, leaning over her desk to see.


    I grinned wolfishly. ¡°An <i>IN</i>.¡±


    ¡ª


    Two days and a flurry of activityter, Balin and I stood in front of a massive gate set in a massive wall half the height of Minnova¡¯s own. It easily dwarfed all the other local architecture to the point ofedy. It looked like once you reached a certain gold value, things like ¡¯building codes¡¯ could be bent. Balin was in his golden armour and shuffled ufortably from foot to foot.


    ¡°I donnae see why I need tae with. I could be spendin¡¯ the day with ma Annie¡±


    ¡°Because he knows both of us, and besides, having <i>the </i>¡®Balin of Goldenlight¡¯ along could be useful. Wasn¡¯t that half the point of you bing an adventurer in the first ce?¡±


    I nced at Balin, who blushed at my praise. Seriously, the two of them were <i>perfect</i> for each other.


    ¡°It¡¯s a silly name¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a <i>sexy</i> name. You sound like a superhero.¡±


    ¡°A what? What kinda soup is heroic?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Never mind. Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    We walked up to a guard post at the front gate, and a gnomish guard in full te - he looked like a tiny tank - nodded at our approach.


    ¡°Name and reason for visit?¡± He asked, curtly.


    I held up the business card. ¡°Brewer Peter Roughtuff here to see Engineer Copperpot. We¡¯re expected.¡±


    The guard held a stone b over the card and the gear shed. He nodded. ¡°Everything looks in order Brewer Roughtuff. Wee to Pot Manor.¡±


    The gates swung open, and I went to drag Balin in behind me. But he was already ahead, striding resolutely forward.


    I smiled, and followed my brave brother inside.

 Book 2: Chapter 17: Pot Manor

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 17: Pot Manor</h4>


    A gnome in a ck suit led us through the long hallways. Pot Manor was everything I could have hoped for in a fantasy world. It had crions and witch¡¯s caps with buttresses and stone gargoyles. It felt like a castle toned down to a house, kind of like the various ¡®castles¡¯ that dotted my old home in BC. It was also a violent yellowish puke-green, which was a¡­ design choice. I would have guessed ck, or some variation on red-brown, or verdigris. Even something in stone - the puns practically wrote themselves! But instead - puke, green.


    Huh. Did gnomes have different colour cones in their eyes? A question for lessons with Richter. Maybe it was a rich gnome thing.


    The inside was a bit more ssical, and actually reminded me a lot of the Main Street store Whistlemop had purchased. There wererge picture windows interspersed with mahogany wooden ents and rich red carpeting. There was a strong scent of wax and wood that permeated every breath, and a small army of servants bustled through the building. They rushed to and fro polishing golden statuary and adjusting opulent tapestries. Nearly all of them were gnomes, though I saw a dwarf here and there. That was in sharp contrast to the rest of Minnova, where I¡¯d almost always seen groups of dwarves dotted with the asional gnome.


    All in all it really did remind me of walking through one of the old Grand Pacific hotels. Who¡¯da thunk that a bunch of hotels put up to service a train would be so emblematic of Canadian architecture?


    Pot Manor <i>really </i>reminded me of the Banff Springs Hotel,plete with gawking tourists. Balin had slowly transformed from Golden God to Transfixed Traveller. He practically <i>gawped</i>, and I had to keep from tossing something into his open mouth just to prove a point. It looked like bravery was nothing in the face of overwhelming wealth.


    ¡°Who lives here? Besides Engineer Copperpot, that is.¡± I asked our guide. I hadn¡¯t caught his name in the entire transfer from Guards to Majordomo to Guide, and it felt a bit rude to ask now. I suspected if I was supposed to know his name, I would have been told his name. All I knew was that he was a Titled [Butler], just like Bimbleberry. He was kind of a dick, or a butt, a Titled [Buttler]! Hah!


    He continued leading us deeper in the manor, but his voice was faux cordial as he answered. ¡°Engineering <i>Professor</i> Copperpot is in residence along with his wife the esteemed Broker Merryweather, his mother the illustrious Phnthropist Teacrumpets, and his father the majestic Merchant Silverpot. There are also his four siblings.¡±


    ¡°Ah, is he the eldest?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡¯


    ¡°Are any of his siblings Titled yet?¡±


    The cordiality was reced with a tinge of ice. ¡°I would prefer to avoid gossiping about my masters, Brewer Roughtuff.¡±


    I would take that as a no.


    I changed the subject to something a bit less tetchy. ¡°I¡¯m not up to date on gnomish naming conventions. Why do you refer to me by myst name, but seem to be referring to Engineering Professor Copperpot by his first name?¡±


    The [Buttler] gave me a familiar expression that I was beginning to call ¡®The Look¡¯. I got it whenever I asked an obvious question.


    ¡°It¡¯s only polite to refer to a Dwarf by their n name Brewer Roughtuff. Gnomish names are passed down through the first name of their first-born child. In the case of the Pot¡¯s family, there are a long line of Pots. As such, first names hold all the meaning necessary for proper introduction.¡±


    He pointed to a series of paintings decorating the wall of the long hallway we were traversing. Each of them contained a garish depiction of a gnome or gnomess wearing some variation on a terribly mismatched coloured suitplete with beanie.


    ¡°Here we can see Engineering Professor Copperpot and his father Merchant Silverpot, who was born of Ironpot, son of Master Merchant Ceramicpot.¡±


    He continued down the line, listing names and asionally Titles. It was all a blur, and I stopped paying attention until I noticed something in the painting of ¡®Grand Speaker Teapot the First¡¯, one of thest paintings in line.


    ¡°Wait a second, wait wait wait. Excuse me, Buttler, what¡¯s this in the painting here?¡±


    The cheeky [Buttler] peered at the painting in question. ¡°As you can read on the namete, that is the magnanimous Grand Speaker Teapot the First.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I got that. But what is <i>that?</i>¡± I pointed at the bottom right corner of the painting.


    He sniffed. ¡°That was the earliest emblem of the noble Pots family, though we now use the ming gear known throughout all of Erd. That emblem was created by Grand Speaker Teapot, who is famous for inventing many of the finest teas in the world. Most of them remain the proprietary knowledge of our very own Pot¡¯s Teas. The most famous are of course Gnomish Breakfast and Lord Grey. He is oft considered the entire reason Gnomes began drinking tea instead of just coffee. He revolutionized both industries and spread them to the world.¡±


    ¡°Very interesting,¡± I said, and left the painting behind as we continued on to our meeting. I¡¯d heard of Gnomish Breakfast and Lord Grey, but just put them down to a quirk of the multiverse. But now I knew better, and had learned something potentially valuable.


    In the bottom right corner of the painting, emzoned on Teapot¡¯s fuschia and lime breast pocket, was a Union Jack.


    ¡ª


    We were brought outside of a massive set of oaken double doors. We were seated on some chairs in the hall outside, and I kind of felt like a child waiting to see the principal at school. It even came with the appropriate angry yelling. At least Buttler Whatisface brought us some tea to drink. Pot Manor - Four out of Five Stars: The tea is great, but the ambiance leaves something to be desired. Balin winced as we heard a sharp bang from inside the room, like two fists descending on an ornate very-expensive wooden desk.


    ¡°Those mining rights belonged to us!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that you weren¡¯t able to meet your deadlines!¡±


    ¡°You know how important those gems were to our business, this is sabotage!¡±


    ¡°Bah, sabotage sounds more like something yourpany would do! This was just good business!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nder! Ourpany would never stoop so low!¡±


    ¡°Hah! Maybe if you spent less timeining and more time working, you wouldn¡¯t be in this problem in the first ce!¡±


    ¡°By Yearn¡¯s Varied Yams, you¡¯ll pay for this Copperpot!¡±


    Suddenly the doors mmed open with a silent well-oiled swish. A furious gnomess stepped through, her face a thundercloud and her eyes murderous.


    She was wearing a purple sequined coat with golden rhinestone buttons, and was covered head to toe in jewelry. Her plump fingers had enormous rings on every digit, and she had a ne around every chin. She wore a yellow bowler hat with some kind of bright green feather in it, which swished while she walked. She was short, even for a gnome, with a scrunched up face, and looked kind of like an angry bulldog dressed like a pimp for halloween. My high charisma was all that kept me from snorting my tea.


    Her eyes swept past us as she stomped down the hallway, but she didn¡¯t even dignify us with a sneer. Buttler Whatshisface looked like he was about to escort her, then thought better of it - wise gnome. In just a moment she was out of sight.


    There was a loud sigh from inside, then Copperpot¡¯s voice emerged, tinged with exhaustion. ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±


    Our guide stood at attention at the door and announced. ¡°Brewer Roughtuff and Knight Roughtuff of Goldenlight here to see you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Ah! Yes, much better than that fusspot, not that she¡¯s worthy of being so associated with the Pot name! Send them in, and bring us some coffee and snacks as well!¡±


    The Buttler bowed us in and shut the door behind us. It was just Balin, Copperpot, and myself in the office, and <i>what </i>an office! Everything in the room was made of wood or leather, except for the gleaming metal gizmos and gadgets that filled every nook and cranny, and the tall walls <i>covered</i> in books. An enormous picture window on one wall let in bright purple light from the city¡¯s crystal, while cheery yellow Solstones hanging from the ceiling lent a warm glow. A pair of plush green couches sat facing each other in the center of the room, with a wooden coffee table in between them.


    Copperpot himself sat at an enormous carved desk ced in front of the window. He stood as we entered and walked over to greet us. He wore a simple set of robes in what I was beginning to recognize as the schr¡¯s style. They were dark blue with pink ents and <i>covered </i>with pockets. His beanie whirred on his head as usual.


    Balin had his battle-face back on, and in contrast to our first meeting with the [Engineer], stepped forward first and held his hand out.


    ¡°Thankye fer meetin¡¯ with ma n on such short notice Engineerin¡¯ Professor Copperpot.¡± He said stoically as they bumped fists. ¡°This is fer you.¡±


    He pulled a small wooden box out of the cor of his armor and passed it to Copperpot. Copperpot took the box with a bow and set it aside on his desk, then broke into a wide smile.


    ¡°No need for Titles between those who¡¯ve faced death together, Balin! Copperpot is fine, and it¡¯s entirely my pleasure to wee you to my home! Come, sit, sit! It¡¯s good to see you too Pete!¡±


    ¡°Good to see ya Copperpot, sorry if we intruded on yer, er, business.¡± I bumped fists with him, then Balin and I went and sat down on one of the couches. It was plush andfortable, while not being <i>too</i> soft. Balin sunk deep into the floof, his armor weighing him down.


    Copperpot slumped into the opposite couch. ¡°Dear Gods, no. If anything I should be thanking you for that. Master Merchant Diamondmine is awful to deal with.¡±


    ¡°Do ya mind if I ask what that was about? I¡¯m afraid we only caught snippets.¡± I asked.


    ¡°You could hear it even in the hall? Ugh. Well, no doubt there will be rumours everywhere by now, damnable Bards. Simply put, we petitioned the Lord to grant the Pots Company control over many of the Saltpeter mines around Minnova. We won more than we had anticipated, as he granted usplete control over arge swath of mines on the Western Wall.¡±


    ¡°Tha Western Wall of the cavern, you mean?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°Yes, and several of those mines were owned by the Mine Corporation. We suspect their inefficiencies may have earned the Lord¡¯s ire.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Are they called that because they like to say ¡®MINE¡¯, ''MINE'', ''MINE'', a lot?¡±


    Copperpot grinned. ¡°Oh, yes.¡±


    A trio of coffees and a te of confections were soon whisked into the room by some maids, and we made smalltalk while we snacked. We started by discussing our Feud, which had been capital B Big News, then moved on to Lillyweather¡¯s rehabilitation, and how things were going at the College. Balin even opened up and waxed poetically on his adventuring in Greentree. For his part, Copperpot was happy to tell us how Boomdust was revolutionizing the mining industry not only in Minnova but all of Crack.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to be quite a wealthy dwarf when all is said and done, Pete.¡± He mused over a biscuit of some kind. ¡°Do you have any ns? I can introduce you to a good ountant.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already asked Whistlemop for one, but thank you.¡± I said, munching on some kind of strawberry jam filled cookie.


    ¡°Ah, that upstart? You¡¯d be better off working with the Pots you know.¡± Copperpot shook his head.


    ¡°I still cannae believe it.¡± Balin muttered. ¡°We were nless and destitute only a year ago. Tha Gods work in mysterious ways.¡±


    ¡°That they do, Balin.¡± Copperpot nodded, a sparkle in his eyes. ¡°Now, as enjoyable as this has been, I don¡¯t imagine you came by just for a chat. What can I help you with?¡±


    I pulled a small sack off my belt and thunked it on the table. I opened it to reveal a single clear bottle filled with a fizzing golden liquid. The purple light streaming through the window wrapped around and through the bottle, leaving a scintiting shadow on the table. It lent a rather mystical air to the affair, and I internally cheered the effect.


    ¡°We wanted to discuss a business proposal, Copperpot. We want to open the first Gnomish brewery in Crack, and we want the Pots Company to help.¡±


    Copperpot looked the bottle over, but didn¡¯t pick it up. His eyes changed from friendly to intense, and his smile thinned. ¡°That¡¯s a¡­ rather revolutionary and dangerous proposal, Peter Roughtuff. I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll need to exin.¡±


    So I told him, and his smile slowly returned, sharklike.

 Book 2: Chapter 18: Negotiations

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 18: Negotiations</h4>


    Balin and I sat in anticipatory silence as Copperpot took a sip from the bottle on the table. He swirled the witbier around in his mouth for a moment, like a sommelier appreciating a particrly fine vintage of wine. He¡¯d agreed that our n was sound, but wanted to have a ¡°taste of the goods¡± first.


    He swallowed and nodded, then frowned, then quirked an eyebrow. An entire symphony of expressions crossed his face until itnded on perturbed.


    Uh oh.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ good.¡± Copperpot said, and Balin and I sighed in relief. Copperpot held up a finger in response. ¡°BUT.¡±


    Balin wiped sweat from his brow. ¡°That sounds like a big but."


    ¡°I don¡¯t like big buts, I cannae lie,¡± I muttered.


    Copperpot swirled the drink around in the bottle and stared through it. The ss shed yellow and purple as the golden liquid inside spun inzy circles. ¡°It¡¯s good, and I could see some of my people growing fond of it. But it¡¯s <i>just</i> good.¡±


    I groaned, but Balin looked confused.


    ¡°What¡¯s tha problem, then?¡± Balin asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a gnome outside of Beatbox or a few others say tha Sacred Brew was anythin¡¯ but cat-piss. ¡®Fine¡¯ is a big improvement!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not goin'' to be worth tha big pile of trouble thates with it.¡± I exined, drumming my fingers on my beard.


    ¡°Yes. I do like the vour, and the fizz is very fun, but a gnomish brewing subsidiary would have a massive target on it for any¡­ shall we call them disaffecteds. If we''re going to support you, it would need to be for something <i>incredible</i>. This is good,¡± Copperpot indicated the bottle, which he¡¯d ced back on the coffee table, ¡°but not <i>amazing</i>.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Balin deted. ¡°Aw.¡±


    I smiled at my brother. He was just so <i>innocent</i> in some matters, while being more worldly than me in others. Well, that¡¯s why teamwork makes the dream-work. I turned to Copperpot and crossed my arms. ¡°Let¡¯s skip a few steps and go straight to tha negotiation. What do ya want?¡±


    Copperpot smiled sunnily. ¡°I knew you¡¯d understand.¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°I spend half my days with a gnome who¡¯s one step short from a used carriage salesman.¡±


    Copperpotughed. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting expression.¡±


    ¡°I just made it up, but full disclosure - we¡¯re in a pretty big hurry, Copperpot. We need ta get this <i>done </i>in three weeks if we¡¯re gonna make our deadline.¡±


    Copperpot raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to reveal your hand like that in negotiations, Pete.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Our re-entry to the Brewers Guild and our chance at winning tha local Octamillenial Brewing Contest is contingent on this deal. If we don¡¯t have some proven results in that time-frame, the entire exercise is pointless. And this has the potential to be <i>big</i> money - you have more to lose if ya walk away than we do. I can always find someone else and do thister, but winning that contest could open up tha Kinshasa market for us <i>and any subsidiaries</i>.¡± I stressed thest bit with a widening of my eyes.


    Copperpot slumped back on the couch. ¡°Ah, I see.¡± He spun the propeller on his beanie and narrowed his eyes, thinking.


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± Balin said, his eyes imploring.


    ¡°A short timeline puts us on the back foot in negotiations,¡± I said. ¡°But disclosing it like this means Copperpot needs to decide <i>today.</i> It¡¯s a high pressure sales tactic, like ¡®limited time offer¡¯ or ¡®one chance only¡¯. It puts the pressure on Copperpot, even though <i>we</i> are technically the ones with a crunch.¡±


    Copperpot looked me up and down and gave a wry smile. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard those phrases, but I understand the gist of them. You realize that tactics like that are considered rude?¡±


    I made a ¡®perish the thought¡¯ gesture. ¡°Like I said, full disclosure. I want you to know what¡¯s at stake here. You''re our first choice, not our <i>only </i>choice.¡±


    Copperpot stared at the bottle sitting demurely on his coffee table. So much trouble contained in such an unassuming package.


    ¡°The first gnomish beerpany, and the eye of the King,¡± he muttered.


    We sat in silence for a while and gave him time to think. Balin fidgeted in obvious nervousness, but I was cool as a cucumber.


    Lies, I was sweating like a pig. This was my best bet, and if it didn¡¯t work I probably didn¡¯t have <i>time</i> toe up with anything else. It may have just been gold on the table for Copperpot, but my <i>soul</i> was possibly on the line here. I decided to sweeten the pot while the iron was hot.


    ¡°Raspberrysyrup is on board with our business, and will be, shall we say, <i>aggressively drinking</i> our product.¡±


    Copperpot looked at me with surprise. ¡°Really? How did you manage that?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re acquainted,¡± I said, and gave my best ¡®dwarf of mystery¡¯ smile.


    ¡°She¡¯s been <i>very</i> good for race rtions.¡± Copperpot mused, then his gaze firmed.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯m on board, but on <i>one condition</i>.¡± He pointed at the beer on the table, and his tone grew dramatic. ¡°You need to bring me a better brew, one worthy of the risk.¡±


    Oh Copperpot, don¡¯t throw me in that briar patch! I had <i>several</i> ideas for gnomish brews sitting in my office right now. Some from before the witbier, and some from just yesterday. Copperpot didn¡¯t need to know that, so I did my best to look unsure and told a little [White Lie]. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, Copperpot, this brew was the result of careful study and months of research. I¡¯m not sure I cane up with something in such a short time.¡±


    Copperpot pointed at me. ¡°If you can, it proves you¡¯re worth investing in. You¡¯re the dwarf that invented Boomdust, and that Ass-ster. I¡¯m not partnering with the Thirsty Goat, I¡¯m partnering with <i>YOU</i>. But only if you can show me this isn¡¯t all just a fluke.¡±


    Balin looked like he was about to say something so I stomped on his foot as covertly as possible.


    ¡°You drive a hard bargain. I might be able toe up with something, but it¡¯ll take a couple days. What will we do in the meantime? If you onlye on board after I¡¯m done, we¡¯ll run out of time.¡±


    Copperpot stood up and brushed some cookie crumbs off his robe. ¡°I¡¯ll get the ball rolling on the assumption that you¡¯ll seed. We have a warehouse that should serve our needs, and I''ll send over a contract tomorrow.¡±


    I held up a hand. ¡°You¡¯ll need to talk with Annie about it. She¡¯s much morefortable with Guild business, and said there will be a lot of non-disclosure agreements and some magical-binding oaths involved.¡±


    Copperpot rolled his eyes. ¡°Those will increase my risk, you know.¡±


    ¡°Buuuut, first gnomish brewer?¡± I said with a smile.


    Copperpot rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°I hope you understand how explosive your words are Pete¡­ which suits you, I suppose. You¡¯ve left me with a lot to do, and little time, so please excuse me if I don¡¯t see you out.¡± He pointed at the door which creaked open, and the Buttler walked in and stood at attention. Had he been listening in? No, it was probably [Anticipate Needs].


    In a few more minutes, Balin and I stepped out of the front gate and started back to the Thirsty Goat. There was a *Bing!* as we crossed the threshold, and I absentmindedly hit ¡®Yes¡¯ on the quest that followed.


    <strong>New Quest: Gnomebody to Love Pete</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Own the first Gnomish Brewery!</i>


    <i>Completed: 0/1 Breweries</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Friend: Gnomes]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Balin released his Golden Armour to avoid gathering a crowd. ¡°What now, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Now we leave the rest to Annie. Hopefully she¡¯ll be able to handle the Guild.¡±


    Balin smiled. ¡°Ma Annie can handle anythin¡¯.¡±


    I looked his way, then nced down and smirked. ¡°Oh CAN she?¡±


    Oof, dungeon delving had <i>really</i> improved Balin¡¯s ability to hit a moving target.


    ¡ª


    Annie smiled up at the brown robed apprentice as he put a mug of ale down in front of her. Then she sneezed.


    ¡°Excuse me.¡± She said, politely wiping her nose on her sleeve. ¡°I guess someone¡¯s talking about me.¡±


    ¡°No no, it can get a bit dusty down here. I should have the apprentices start dusting at least once a week.¡± The dwarf across from her said. He was grey-haired, in an immacte set of ck [Brewer] armour. He had a set of incrediblyrge mutton-chops and a pair of piercing ck eyes. Master Brewer Boulder Stusk was one of the few Dwarves Annie was positive woulde around to her side eventually. He was a traditionalist, but also a realist, and a Dwarf of impable honour. He¡¯d also known her from when she was still knee-high to a unigoat, and she¡¯d spent her first few decades calling him Uncle Boulder, and Master Brewer Stusk after that.


    Which was likely why he frowned and continued. ¡°Goldstone, I do wish to apologize about the entire fiasco with your father. I admit that I was so blinded by my fears that I did not see the real harm I was causing to you and Jeremiah. I am very, deeply sorry, and ashamed of my actions.¡± He bowed deep in his chair, a in wooden backed affair in his office deep below Stusk Brewery.


    Annie crossed her legs, and shifted her gown to sit morefortably around her thick leather boots. She¡¯d found herself dressing up a bit more since her engagement to Balin. Why, she¡¯d spent an <i>Ungodsly </i>amount of gold on herst shopping trip with Aqua. She had to admit that this dress in particr, with its billowing white sleeves and gold thread looked quite fetching on her, though Balin had said it looked more fetching <i>off</i> her. She coughed and got her mind back on topic.


    ¡°No Master Brewer, you were all quite masterfully manipted by Browning. I don¡¯t hold you responsible at all.¡±


    Which was a polite fiction. She did <i>indeed </i>hold them responsible, and was even now considering frying up some mutton-chops. But giving him an out was the first step to repairing <i>this</i> particr bridge. If she held him to the fire he¡¯d burn to a crisp and then she¡¯d never get anything out of him.


    Stusk shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s very kind young Annie, but I do owe your n something.¡±


    Annie noted the ¡®Young Annie¡¯ and shifted her tone to match his more familial attitude. ¡°Oh Uncle Boulder, I don¡¯t want you to fall to Yearn over it. What¡¯s past is past, and the guilty party was suitably punished.¡±


    Stusk took a drink of his own ale and looked far off into a distance only he could see. ¡°How¡­ how is Jeremiah?¡±


    Annie¡¯s voice grew a bit sharp, the thought of her Father¡¯s betrayal cutting more thoroughly than any axe. That edge had dulled over the past few months, but it would likely never go away. ¡°We¡¯re working things out, but he still isn¡¯t quite the same. How is Auntie Margerie? And the boys?¡±


    Stusk focused back on Annie and smiled. ¡°She¡¯s doing quite well. She was just asking after you, actually.¡±


    Annie led the old Brewer through some happy chatter about family and ns and the burdens of owning a Brewery. Stusk Brewery was quite a bitrger than the Thirsty Goat and served thousands more dwarves. The Brewery¡¯s architecture was in line with what was usually called <i>Mine Deco</i>, with long twisting tunnels dug into the stone. This made for a somewhat drafty conversation.


    Eventually Stusk harrumphed and came to the point. ¡°It''s been nice catching up, but I assume you asked for this meeting for a reason, Annie?¡±


    Annie smiled sweetly andunched into her pitch. ¡°Well, Uncle Boulder, I grew up hearing stories of the Brewer¡¯s Guild and it always meant so much to me¡­¡±


    Within the first minute Stusk was nodding along. By the end, he was openly weeping.


    Annie left Stusk Brewery with a promise of support. One down, four more to go. She really hoped Pete was pulling his weight!

 Book 2: Chapter 19: A Stout Porter

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 19: A Stout Porter</h4>


    The Thirsty Goat was closed. It wasn¡¯t an emergency, and we weren¡¯t out of food. No, it was just far past closing time and all the patrons had left for the day.


    The tables were cleaned, most of the help had retired, and a warm fire flickered in the hearth of the pub. The clink of dishes in the kitchen mixed with the crackle of the fire to create a symphony of satisfaction. In the warm orange glow a single dwarf sat at a paper strewn table, contemting the future of the world. Little did he know how instrumental he would be in the events that would soon transpire.


    I mean, I <i>did </i>know, but it felt a little like hubris. Not that a little hubris wasn¡¯t good for the soul! Sometimes all you need to keep your energy high is a little voice in the back of your head saying ¡®Yes, that¡¯s right Pete, <i>YOU </i>are the main character in your own life!¡±


    I thumbed through another page of notes and hummed a little Johnny Cash. My favorite Cash was <i>Ring of FIre</i> but I currently had <i>Hey Porter</i> on my mind. I considered the words to the song; I wonder if they have trains on Erd? That struck me as a simple technology to introduce, especially given what I¡¯d seen so far of gnomish engineering. Depending on how things went with Copperpot I could do a slow drip of tech on the side. Or not, I was busy enough.


    ¡°How¡¯s it going, Pete?¡±


    I looked up - and up, to see the enormous form of Kirk Manly peering down at me. He was carrying a tankard and was sweaty and disheveled from a long night of waitering. His white button up shirt was opened slightly at the neck and a small tuft of hair peeked out like some kind of sad human chest-beard. Annie and I had worried that our clientele would be ufortable with a giant serving food, but Kirk was already well-loved by most of our patrons. I¡¯d thought it would be his dashing good looks (for a Human) or his great singing voice, but it turned out to be something waaaaay dumber. They loved him because he got great distance on the toss.


    Every night in pubs around the city, fights broke out amongst the drunkest and most belligerent dwarves. Inevitably this resulted in some dwarf getting tossed out a window and onto his head. There was a fairlyrge poption of tosswatchers who liked to go to pubs to watch their fellows get the <i>yeet </i>to the <i>street</i>. Kirk¡¯s height and strength meant he got some <i>good</i> distance. The brewpub had a singr window to the outside expressly for that purpose. I¡¯d been wondering why Bran had been so insistent on the silly thing when we''d designed the pub, but it all made sense now.


    I patted the table. ¡°It¡¯s goin¡¯. Want to join me?¡±


    Kirk nodded and took a seat on the pic bench across from me. He watched in silence for a while as Ipleted a few notes, taking the asional sip of his drink. He looked a bit ufortable on the too-small seat, and I made a mental note to have Balin make him a personal chair. Maybe a lounge for kicking his feet up after a long night running around the pub.


    ¡°Are you enjoying the work?¡± I asked, pushing my notes to the side.


    Kirk gave a wide satisfied smile. ¡°It''s great. It¡¯s everything I love about portering, but ites with great food and good friends.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been meanin'' to ask, what food and drink do they have up in the Humannds?¡± I asked, pointing up to the ceiling.


    Kirk looked up as well and frowned. ¡°It¡¯s a bit simr, and a lot different in other respects.¡±


    I sat up and stretched a bit. ¡°Do tell?¡±


    ¡°For one thing, there''s a lot more sweets and meats down here.¡± Kirk patted his stomach. ¡°My stomach loves it, but my waistline¡¯s starting toin!¡±


    I scratched my head. ¡°Humans don¡¯t eat meat?¡±


    Kirk frowned. ¡°Most of the hunting and farming is controlled by the nobility. It¡¯s just too expensive for your average person to eat more than the asional chicken or pork. Fish is moremon.¡±


    ¡°So meat¡¯s a¡­ controlled substance!?¡±


    Kirk nodded.


    ¡°By Aaron¡¯s Arse, how can they justify that??¡± I spluttered.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of them - first sons, fourth sons, fifth daughters, <i>seventh</i> sons. Humans have more children in a shorter timeline than dwarves, especially the nobility. They¡¯re <i>everywhere </i>and they own <i>everything</i>.¡± His gaze grew a bit cloudy at that, and I once again considered what had driven a man of his ability and stature down here. I didn¡¯t fully buy his <i>action adventurer</i> story, but every man, er and dwarf had his secrets.


    ¡°What about tha sweets? I refuse to believe that dwarves have a bigger sweet-tooth than teenage girls - er, I mean humans.¡± I thought back on some of Sammy¡¯s sweets demands, and this time it didn¡¯t hurt, it was simply bittersweet. Like chocte after a breakup.


    ¡°I think that it''s the gnomes¡¯ fault, actually. A lot of the big family businesses push sweets <i>hard</i> down here, and sugar is readily avable from Greentree. There¡¯s a whole culture around drinking coffee and eating vani cream rolls that we just don¡¯t have, though Gnomish tea ismon enough.¡±


    ¡°Sugar¡¯s still expensive.¡± I pointed out.


    Kirk nodded. ¡°But nothing like the humannds. Most of our desserts use honey, or imported sweeteners, and that gets expensive. There are beekeepers here and there, but Hive Dungeon is the main distributor of honey in the human kingdoms, and it¡¯s <i>dangerous</i>. Nothing like Greentree.¡±


    ¡°Huh. That¡­ kind of sucks. How about alcohol? You mentioned whiskey? I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s no beer?¡±


    Kirk smiled widely. ¡°Oh, we have whiskey for sure! And gin.¡±


    ¡°Do you have brandy?¡±


    ¡°Never heard of it.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Wine?¡±


    ¡°You can buy it from the elves, but it¡¯s <i>expensive</i>.¡± He waggled his eyebrows. ¡°They hoard the stuff more than a dwarf hoards gold. No offence.¡±


    ¡°None taken, gold is gold. Anythin'' else? Rum, or mead?¡± From what he¡¯d said about sugar, both of those seemed unlikely. Rum was a byproduct of sugarcane, and mead needed copious amounts of honey.


    Kirk pursed his lips. ¡°No to those too. Just a few kinds of vodka, though I don¡¯t drink them, and rice wine. You sure know a lot of different types of alcohol, Pete! Or are you just yanking my leg? I admit, I got a lot of it to yank!¡±


    ¡°You have sake - I mean, rice wine?!¡± I sat bolt upright. ¡°That means you have rice! Can I buy some? Do they have it here!?¡± my voice came out tinged with a touch of desperation.


    Kirk shook his head. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen it in Minnova. I know they carry it at the human market in Kinshasa, but it¡¯s expensive.¡±


    Nuts, I was sensing a theme, but I was rich, so who cared! Rice was my favourite gluten-free malt, so I¡¯d been hoping to use it. At least now I knew there were additional ingredients I could get in Kinshasa! All the more reason to get back to winning thispetition.


    ¡°What about you, Pete? What¡¯s all this?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell?¡±


    ¡°Looks like ingredients. Aqua says you taught Bran a lot of his recipes, are you doing more of that?¡±


    I grinned, as there was a louder than usual *nk* from the kitchen. It was probably Bran dropping some eaves. He¡¯d better watch out, eavesdropping was a hazardous sport. ¡°You¡¯re close. I¡¯m trying to make a new kind of beer.¡±


    ¡°REALLY!¡± Kirk¡¯s face opened up in boyish wonder. I blinked. He suddenly looked so <i>young</i>, or I was just feeling really old.


    I cracked a huge smile too. ¡°Aye, Copperpot challenged me to make something that gnomes would love, and I think I know exactly what to use.¡±


    ¡°Excellent!"


    ¡°Yep, I¡¯m going to cook up a <i>stout porter</i>!¡±


    Kirk suddenly backed up all the way down his bench, a feat given his size. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to cook what!?¡± He bit his lip and considered, then guffawed. ¡°Ah, it was a pun!¡±


    I thought back on what I¡¯d said thenughed along with him. ¡°Hah, no, actually, not this time.¡±


    ¡°So what is this <i>porter</i>? Is it simrly Blessed by the Gods?¡± Kirk eventually asked.


    ¡°Oh, yes!!" Or at least Guinness was. Now, I had said a stout porter, but that was the original name for two different drinks. A stout, and a porter. Both of them were ¡®dark'' beers, and I was hoping they were different enough to appeal to the gnomes.


    ¡°Can you tell me more?¡± Kirk shuffled back to sit morefortably, his elbows on the table.


    ¡°Oh, absolutely! How much do you know about beer?¡±


    There was another loud *ng* from the kitchen.


    ¡°Not much, honestly.¡± Kirk shrugged. ¡°I just know that there¡¯s only been two types for over ten-thousand years.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s true and untrue. <i>Obviously </i>there¡¯s been more made, just none that got popr.¡±


    Kirk chuckled. ¡°That makes sense. It did feel odd to me. Really, ten thousand years and nobody ever tried something new? It feels a bit unrealistic.¡±


    I coughed. ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Why that name, though? Was it invented by a Titled [Porter]?¡±


    I adjusted my tone to ''storyteller'' and began my carefully crafted lie. ¡°Let me tell you the tale! The legends say that once upon a time me kinsfolk - they live very far away from here, you wouldn¡¯t know them - mixed the two different kinds of beer in a tankard with a few other ingredients to create a special brew called two-threads. They served it to the hard-working, uh, [Porters] of the city docks. The problem was, if you were missin'' any one of the beers, you couldn¡¯t make two-threads. A [Brewer] by tha name of Ralph Harwood decided to solve the problem, and created a new beer that tasted just like two-threads. He named it after the men he¡¯d invented it for - the stout porters. It never really took off, but I know how to make it!¡± I passed my ingredients list over to Kirk and he began to read it over.


    This was of course, not entirely true. First of all, it was actually <i>three </i>different types of beer, and it was called <i>three-threads</i>. Also, beer schrs in the modern era have mostly debunked the ¡°Ralph Harwood¡± story, which actually originated from a guidebook written in 1802. A man by the name of John Feltham wrote the story, which he called <i>The Porter Brewery,</i> and published in <i>The Picture of London</i>. Ralph Harwood <i>was </i>a brewer in 1720, and three-threads <i>did</i> exist, but he probably didn¡¯t invent stout porters. They were just another product of hypepetitive 1700s London.


    Either way, we can thank London for giving us what would one day be Guinness, but tell that to an Irishman and they¡¯d stuff a potato so far up your arse you¡¯d be tasting French fries for weeks.


    As for the difference between the two¡­. The only thing all brewers could agree on is that stouts were usually darker and thicker, with stronger overtones and a burnt aftertaste. Porters were just a bit smoother and could be more easily given subtle vours and sweet adjuncts. Technique wise, porters usually used dark malts, while stouts used pale malts with some roasted malts mixed in. But only <i>usually</i>; there was no consensus.¡±


    Kirk shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t make heads or tails of these ingredients, Pete. I¡¯m not a brewer..¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. All ya really <i>need</i> to know is that I can make it with our regr ingredients, I just need an oven and some chemistry equipment. Calcium carbonate, mostly, though I¡¯m keeping an eye out for different erdroots.¡±


    Bran stuck his head out the transom and shouted, ¡°I¡¯ll not be givin'' you my oven for beer experimenting! Get yer own! Not after - ¡±


    ¡°<i>We don¡¯t talk about pruno</i>! I just need the <i>kiln </i>and some chemistry equipment.¡± I self-corrected. ¡°That and some coffee. See, stouts are one of the beers best suited for coffee as an adjunct. I¡¯m going to blow the gnomes of Minnova away with a coffee stout!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to try it!¡± Kirk beamed. ¡°I love both of those things!¡±


    Bran walked out of the kitchen, still grumbling about ovens and explosions and experiments and the noodle incident. He deposited a small te in front of each of us and crossed his arms.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I asked, poking at it. It looked like¡­ a cream puff?


    ¡°It¡¯s somethin¡¯ new I made.¡± Bran huffed, ¡°Try it.¡±


    Well, I wasn¡¯t going to turn down anything new from Bran. I sniffed it first. It had a vaguely¡­ woodey? smell to it, mixed with the delicious scents of chantilly whipped cream and vani. The puff-pastry itself was a standard creampuff style, though it was more akin to a longjohn in length. It looked like a cream-hoagie.


    I took a bite, and almost moaned with pleasure. The sweet tang of the cream had an earthy vour that grounded the vani, while the puff-pastry was just spongy enough to not detract from the cream.


    ¡°It¡¯s delicious!¡± I proimed, not bothering to wipe the cream from my beard before taking another bite.


    ¡°I agree!¡± Kirk said. ¡°Mmmmm! How¡¯d you get that weird vour?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s that stick Balin brought in. I tried some of the stuff you didn¡¯t want, Pete, after I checked them fer poison of course. I boiled the inner and outer bark to make a decoction and tried ¡®em both. This is the inner bark, how is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s great! It was¡­ an elm, right? I never knew it tasted this good! Honestly, I think this is the most unique dessert you¡¯ve made yet!¡±


    Bran¡¯s smile grew to epass his entire face. ¡°I¡¯m d to hear it, since I¡¯ll be entering it in the Octamillenial baking contest tomorrow!¡±


    Kirk nodded. ¡°I think you can win it with this!¡±


    I stared between him and Bran, mouth open and cream spilling out.


    Bran snorted at my expression. ¡°Psh, you didn¡¯t know, did you. You¡¯re so caught up in this beer business that you forget the rest of us have lives outside of tha Goat. It looks like the first champion in the Thirsty Goat family isn¡¯t going to be you, Pete.¡±


    He grinned and jerked a thumb up at his face. ¡°It¡¯s goin'' to be me, Bran Hurler.¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 20: Beefs and Breads

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 20: Beefs and Breads</h4>


    Bran Hurler awoke like any other day in Minnova. He reached out for a dwarfess that wasn''t there, groaned, then pulled himself out of his single cot in his tenement room. He sighed and went to do his morning ablutions. Not all dwarves bothered with getting cleaned up every day, but he always considered cleanliness to be important in a chef; nobody liked hair in their soup. Plus, Opal always said she liked it when his ck hair shone with inner lustre.


    He dressed carefully in the clean set of crisp white clothes that Pete had given him a few months back. The back was embroidered with a ridiculous picture of Penelope giving a dwarf-like smile. Pete had meant it to be endearing, but every dwarf knew what it <i>really</i> meant when a unigoat smiled like that - they were wondering how tasty your beard was.


    He checked the condition of his beard and ced the ridiculous poofy white hat on his head toplete the outfit. Well, almostplete, there were still a few pieces of brown leather armor to attach. He smiled to himself as he strapped everything on. Truly, meeting Pete had set him on the right path in life. Cooking in the mine had been fun, but now he was truly a <i>chef</i>, not just a camp cook.


    Once he was ready to go, he grabbed a small basket and stepped out into the busy streets of Minnova. In an underground world with no true day or night, there were always some people running to and fro no matter the time of day. Bran was forced to immediately sidestep a southerner pulling a cart, and apologize to a gnome that he tripped over in the process.


    He waited until the cart cleared the alley, then took a deep breath and walked over to knock on his neighbour¡¯s door.


    An elderly gnomess opened it, her beady eyes white with cataracts. Once you were old, healing magic just didn¡¯t cut it anymore - it was never meant to prevent old age.


    ¡°Is that you, Bran my dear?¡± She asked in a cracked voice. At her feet a cat sauntered in from the street, and another two exited.


    ¡°It is, Gemgem. I''ve got your breakfast.¡± Bran smiled and opened his basket, pulling out a set of muffins. Amongst everything he¡¯d learned from Pete, muffins were still his favourite. Tiny cakes! For breakfast! Opal had approved.


    So did Gemgem, who smacked her lips and held out her hand. Bran deposited a muffin in it and the two of them shared some small talk before he was forced to wish her a good day.


    The process repeated itself at nearly two dozen other doors. Bran was greeted at every turn with a happy smile and the asional childishughter. Those that scowled and told him to ¡°get lost¡±? Well, he didn¡¯t bother with their doors anymore.


    All told though, the joyful ¡®good mornings¡¯ well outnumbered the grumpy ¡®get stuffed¡¯s.


    When he was all done, Bran deposited the basket back in his room and steeled his nerve. His morning baking delivery was a ritual at this point, but it also served another purpose today. Each time he passed over a muffin, he received just a bit of self-satisfaction, that awareness that people <i>loved</i> his food. He also received a bit of a boost to his [Artisan Luck], which ¡®made his own luck through hard work and dedication¡¯. He still wasn¡¯t sure it was doing anything, but wasn¡¯t that the nature of luck?


    And he needed that luck, because today was <i>not </i>like any other day in Minnova. Today was do or die. Today would decide if Artisan Hurler was worthy of the illustrious [Doctor] he so adored.


    Opal¡¯s n was as wealthy and powerful as a dwarven n could get, and <i>many</i> nobles hade from their ranks. Inparison, he was some upstart from a poor family with a criminal record and barely a penny to his name. He needed some way to prove himself, and what better way than to prove himself the best chef in Minnova? Dwarves respectedpetence above all else, and Bran was sure of it - he could <i>win </i>this.


    What was it Pete sometimes said? ¡°Imagine you¡¯re the main character of your own story.¡± Right. Today, <i>HE</i> - Bran Hurler - was the main character!


    ¡ª


    I swiped my paintbrush in azy arc, tracing an awkward pencil line. I daubed a space where the paint hadn¡¯t quite applied evenly, then wiped my brow.


    ¡°This one is pretty much done, Aqua!¡±


    ¡°Great, put it over there to dry, then get started on the next one!


    I wasn¡¯t feeling very main-charactery today. But that was okay, because I honestly needed a bit of a break from a crazy week. I was well on the way to burnout, and the moments you were busiest were when you most needed to take some time off. At least that was what I told myself as I put the finishing touches on the enormous sign we were painting.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe nobody told me about this.¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°I <i>did</i>!¡± Aqua cajoled. ¡°You were just so busy running around that I don¡¯t think it registered.¡±


    ¡°How did I miss it!? My perception is huge!¡±


    ¡°Even twenty perception doesn¡¯t help when you¡¯re <i>that</i> distracted.¡± She retorted.


    ¡°Annie, did ya know about this?¡±


    Annie smiled sweetly. ¡°Of course, why did you think I wanted Balin back <i>today</i>?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Because - ¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t answer that.¡± She snapped. ¡°Your brushwork is terrible, who taught you how to paint?¡±


    ¡°Not all dwarves are as gifted with their hands as Balin.¡± I countered.


    Richter snorted, Johnsson yucked, and Penelope baah¡¯d.


    ¡°Hey, are we bringin¡¯ Penelope?¡± I asked. ¡°She should really cheer for Bran too, he¡¯s her second favourite person ever since he started bribing her with kitchen scraps.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s her favourite?¡± Johnsson asked. I simply gave him a waggle of the old eyebrows.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not,¡± Annie said, straightening her back with a *pop*.


    ¡°Great! Do you want to go cheer on Bran, Penelope? Want to tell him how much you love him?¡±


    She bucked happily at Bran''s name and looked around - probably for food.


    ¡°Meeeeeeh!¡± [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I shall stand as his inspiration!¡±


    Yeah, you go girl.


    ¡°So, now that I¡¯m payin'' attention, how is this goin'' to work?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Dere¡¯s two parts to da contest,¡± Richter began. ¡±First is a dinnah item, tha second a dessert.¡±


    ¡°Sounds easy enough. Especiallypared to tha Beer Brawl!¡±


    Johnsson shook his head. ¡°All the chef¡¯s have ess to their knives and cleavers¡­¡±


    I was aghast. ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Yep. ¡®A chef should always be prepared for someone to burst into the kitchen andin about the food¡¯,¡± Annie intoned. ¡°They also need to collect their own supplies from a section of the arena made out to look like the Grand Market. ¡®A chef should always be willing to fight for the best food at the lowest cost¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Are those quotes from the rules??¡±


    Everyone nodded. Wow, they really did all know! Well, I guess I had been a bit too hyper-focused on my beer quests and whatnot recently. To be fair, I had magic waiting on one end and my soul at the other. Also, Titled individuals were <i>expected</i> to be a bit weird about their work, it was practically necessary to get noticed by one of the Gods in the first ce.


    Zirce stuck her head into the pub from the brew-room. ¡°Sixteen minutes!!¡±


    ¡°Arrrghhh!!¡± Aqua hissed. ¡°We aren¡¯t going to get all these signs done in time.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s holding down the fort?¡± I asked Annie as I put on the finishing touch - some kind of sequins on the edges of the card.


    ¡°Zirce and Emma. Moony, Markus and Balin are already at the arena holding our seats.¡±


    ¡°I hope they aren''t too heavy." I snickered.


    "What?"


    "The seats - never mind, anyone else?¡±


    ¡°Most of the pro-drinking crowd will be there to cheer Bran on. Honestly, I expect it to be packed. Nearly everyone knows someone who¡¯ll bepeting. They even had to have a preliminary since there were so many applicants.¡±


    ¡°How did Bran do in the prelims?¡±


    Annie finished with her current card and ced it to the side. ¡°We don¡¯t know, just that he moved to the next round. It just involved a judgeing to eat some food at the pub, it wasn¡¯t anything big.¡±


    ¡°Ahh! What am I doing!? We forgot the clothes!¡± Aqua hopped up and ran back to the brew-room. She came out a momentter carrying a box full of <i>Thirsty Goat</i> branded shirts. ¡°Everyone put one on!¡±


    Everyone immediately began pulling at their clothes and removing bits of armour. I¡¯d learned over the past two years that dwarves were not really nudity averse, but dressing down in public was considered¡­ <i>unsafe</i> rather than naughty - never sure when a monster or drunk would take a swing at you.


    In a few minutes we were all kitted up and most of the posters were ready. Annie led the way, and we all filed towards the heart of the city, joining several other streams of people heading towards the casino. Penelope followed after, capering about on a leash carried by Johnsson, who¡¯d lost the game of Rock, Pick, Dwarf.


    ¡ª


    Bran confidently sharpened some of his knives in the waiting area beneath the Arena. They were being kept down here while the false Grand Market was prepared up above. There were over a dozen chefs present, each preparing their own sets of tools. While the mood was one of excitement, all of the chefs that remained after the prelims were consummate professionals; they were likely all Titled, maybe even Specialized.


    He gave a serious nod to one he recognized, Joejam, and the gnomish cafe owner gave an acknowledging nod back. Joejam was busy adjusting his armour and shining somedles hanging from a bandolier at his waist. His salt and pepper goatee was trimmed to match his neatly shaved head, and he wore an apron that said ¡®Joejam¡¯s¡¯.


    In fact, many of the chefs wore simr attire, emzoned with the name of their restaurants. That was <i>new</i>, and Bran smiled to himself at the realization that it was likely Pete¡¯s influence. The Feud, coupled with all the business he¡¯d brought to the pub following the Barck Beer Brawl had clearly not gone unnoticed by the city¡¯s businessmen.


    He spotted a few other people he recognized. There was a surly looking dwarf covered in scars with a ck horseshoe beard wearing an apron for the <i>Rusty Battleaxe</i>, a squinty eyed Gnome with no facial hair at all wore a newsboy cap emzoned with <i>House of Meats</i>, and a dwarfess with a red braided beard in a leather gambeson was the high and mighty chef of <i>The Fickle Fig</i>.


    In the back of the room a dwarf in copper te armour emzoned with the words <i>Caprid Cuisine</i> was in the middle of a heated argument with a South-Erden Gnomess. She wore a dark red toga with the words <i>Kebab Cuisine </i>emzoned on the back, and<i></i>he marked her as a serious threat. Her name was Tkatan and her food had been some of the best he¡¯d tried during his ¡®market research¡¯ with Pete a few months back.


    The rest were unknown to him, but what he did know was that this was going to be a rough and tumble victory. But victory nheless. He had a ton of recipes that he¡¯d been working on with and without Pete, and he was positive that nobody else had started using his secret beer sauces yet. Between his beer infused mains and sweet desserts, he was sure to wow any judge be they Dwarf or Gnome.


    A Gnome in a ck suit descended into the waiting area and proimed in a loud voice, ¡°Chefs! Please make your way upstairs, the contest is about to begin!¡±


    Bran bunched up his sleeves and took a deep breath. Years of working at a mine for malcontents had toughened him up far beyond what any of the local chefs were likely to bring to the table, and he was armed with recipes they¡¯d never dreamed of. Thispetition was his to lose.


    And the hand of a beautiful white beardeddy up above was his to win.

 Book 2: Chapter 21: The Octamillenial Cooking Contest

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 21: The Octamillenial Cooking Contest</h4>


    Markus and Moony had managed to get us some nice seats in the lower part of the arena, and Balin had helped them keep it. He stood with his golden armour, keeping seat thieves at bay.


    ¡°My Hero!¡± I fluttered my eyshes and he rolled his eyes so hard I could see it through the te mail.


    ¡°Sit down ya sunnova nanny goat. Ma Annie says you¡¯ve been teasin¡¯ her, and I¡¯m gonna make you pay fer thatter.¡±


    ¡°Penelope, go say hello and thank you for holding our seats to Balin.¡±


    Balin flinched, but Penelope simply hopped onto my seat and baah¡¯d remorsefully.


    *meeeeeeh* [Tranted From Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Forsooth mine squire, thest time I greeted the golden one I nearly bent my horn in twain!¡±


    I snuggled in close and she plopped down onto myp. Given that she was a bitrger than a mastiff, it made for a tight fit to say the least.


    I grunted as one of her rear hooves found a spot where I wasn''t armoured. ¡°Urff. When does it start and how long is it going to take?¡±


    ¡°It begins in twenty minutes,¡± Annie said. ¡°Or it should if they manage to start on time.¡±


    I looked down on the arena, and was struck by how different it looked as a spectator. To be fair, it was also apletely different setup than when I¡¯dpeted.


    The Beer Brawl had been a bunch of pic tables with a shrinking ring of ck-clothed attendants. Now, one side of the arena was dedicated to multiple portable kitchen spaces,plete with inds and magical ovens. It looked like something straight out of master chef. And that was nothingpared to the other half, which was covered by a teeming market filled with sights, sounds, gadgets, gizmos, geegaws, and even some food. It was crazy, chaotic, and aplete mess.


    I spotted brightly coloured dungeon ingredients, a collection of fish tanks that overflowed with toorge upants, and even a gnome selling substandard leafy greens. He was fighting a Dwarven purveyor of gourds for a ce at the front of the vegetable stalls. Their yelling was loud enough that it carried even to the stands.


    ¡°Get yer crappy cords away from me pumpkins! I donnae need ya ruinin¡¯ tha ambiance with tha stench!¡± The dwarf swung a pair of miniature pumpkins threateningly.


    [Tranted From Angry Toothless Gnome] "I find their aroma as pleasant as your flowery breath.¡±


    The dwarf roared and grabbed a literal battleaxe from behind his stall. He charged forward and began hacking at the gnome¡¯s cart.


    [Tranted From Angry Toothless Gnome] ¡°My Cord Greens!!!¡±


    Annie watched the byy with narrowed eyes and hissed. ¡°How is that gnome still in business!? I¡¯ve sent City Hall after him at least two times!¡±


    I ignored her and her crusade against vegetables and turned to look around the audience. It was interesting to see who was out, and I noted a significantlyrger Gnomish presence than the Barck Beer Brawl had drawn out. Really though, I was looking for one particr Dwarfess, and I spotted her sitting amongst the nobles in the box seats.


    Opal was dressed to the nines in a set of ruby chainmail, and her short white hair and goatee were entuated by a set of glimmering bangely jewelry. I waved at her, but she didn¡¯t register us at all. Her eyes were focused on the gate where I assumed the chefs would enter. She only had eyes for one Dwarf today, and it wasn¡¯t one of us.


    Two people sat beside her, and I realized they must be the parents I¡¯d heard Bran wax so¡­ poetically about. The first was a stout Dwarf wearing a set of fine suit-armour much like my own. He was chatting up another noble, and didn¡¯t seem to be very interested in the proceedings. The second was a dainty white haired Dwarfess with a traditional braided beard and a sour expression. She was just as focused as Opal, but her face was one of stern dissatisfaction rather than hope or nervous anticipation.


    Barck¡¯s Luck Bran, you¡¯re going to need it. In the meantime, I¡¯ll try and get you some proper support.


    I caught everyone''s attention. ¡°Hey y''all, Listen up! I have a song to teach ya!¡±


    ¡°Ooooh!¡± Aqua crooned. ¡°You always have the best songs! Which bard nobody¡¯s ever heard of wrote this one?¡±


    ¡°Shush, it¡¯s called We Will Rock You, and it¡¯s by tha Queen!¡±


    A half-dozen shocked eyes fell on me as everyone shouted at once. ¡°WHAT!!!!¡±


    ¡ª


    Bran felt a trickle of sweat run down the back of his white shirt and he fought a gulp. He¡¯d spent the past few decades dealing with the most ornery dwarves in Minnova; this was nothing. At least, that was what he kept saying as he stepped out onto the sand, and almost immediately spotted his darling Opal. And beside her, Lady Mirra gave him a look that would have frightened Yearn Herself.


    He would not trip, he would not cry, he would not faint. Beside him, one of the contestants did all three at once. The others simply stepped over, and in the case of The Rusty Battleaxe¡¯s chef, stepped on the unfortunate dwarf.


    The crowd roared as they took notice of thepetitors, and a momentter the announcer¡¯s voice boomed throughout the arena.


    ¡°Everyone! Wee to the Octamillenial Cooking Contest!!! The best and brightest chefs of Minnova are here today to decide who holds the crown!! The winner will go on to represent our beloved City at the Octamillenial Contest in Kinshasa!!!¡±


    ¡°May The Tree Tower!!!¡± The crowd roared.


    Bran winced at the volume, but his eyes were still only for his darling Opal. She gave him a worried wave, and he gave a confident nod back. He had this; nobody else on Erd had the recipes he did right now - he was almost positive of that.


    A flutter to his side caught his attention, and he winced as his eyes fell on his friends from the Thirsty Goat. Their entire section was filled with posters that said ¡°Go Bran¡± and ¡°Go Bran or Go Home¡± and various other slogans. When they realized he¡¯d spotted them, they began to cheer, then broke into some song he didn¡¯t recognize.


    They were pping their hands and banging their feet and singing something about rocking. Or turning thepetition into rocks? It waspletely embarrassing, and totally endearing. And it was almost definitely all Pete¡¯s fault.


    He considered his teacher and friend, who was giving him that strange thumbs-up gesture. Pete was a treasure trove of strange dishes and odd mannerisms, and Bran was almost positive that Pete wasn¡¯t from Crack. If he had to guess, it was from somewhere much further away. He and Richter had beenbing over some more esoteric history books as well as papers on spirits and souls, and they had some theories on Pete¡¯s possible origins.


    His mysterious origin didn¡¯t change anything, though. Bran considered Pete a true benefactor - the dwarf that''d put him on his proper path and set the events in motion that would eventually bring him to be with the dwarfess of his dreams. If Pete¡¯s checkered past came to haunt them, Bran would be right by his side, just as he guessed the rest of the Thirsty Goat would be.


    But right now, he had a contest to win.


    ¡°EVERYONE, PLEASE WELCOME THE CHEFS WHO MADE IT THROUGH THE PRELIMINARY ROUNDS!¡±


    Bran did his best to stay focused, which was difficult while the announcer loudly named all the chefs. Thankfully, unlike the Barck Beer Brawl, none of the chefs were expected to introduce themselves. There were over two dozen of them, so that would have taken a while.


    Eventually the announcer moved on to the judges, who did say a few words each. There were a total of eight judges - four gnomes and four dwarves, with an even mix of males and females. It was clear that the format encouraged meals with the widest appeal, and Bran made a mental note to avoid food that was too dwarf or gnome-centric. He could see from the eyes of some of the chefs around him that the others were doing the same.


    He also took stock of the various foods and ingredients he could spot in the market on the other side of the arena. Each contestant had been given sixteen gold to buy ingredients. Top-quality knives had been prepared for anyone whocked proper utensils, but every chef that reached this far had their own tools.


    All in all it was an interesting format, and Bran had to wonder who hade up with the idea. Likely some up-ander in Kinshasa. He''d spotted a few ingredients that would be useful, but he had another idea in mind, one that would make him stand out from the other contestants and was impossible for anyone else to replicate.


    ¡°CHEFS, TO YOUR KITCHENS!¡± The announcer cried, and the crowd roared in response.


    Bran pulled his eyes away from the market and made his way to a countertop and oven with his name on it. He gave it a once over for sabotage or imperfections and then nodded, it all looked good.


    ¡°PREPARE YOUR SPACE! YOU HAVE EIGHT MINUTES BEFORE THE MARKET OPENS!¡±


    Bran ced his wooden box of knives on the counter and carefully opened it. A dozen lethal utensils of excellent dwarven steel reflected his face, their luster an indication of how well he cared for them. Heid them in their proper ces, then gave each a reverential once over with a clean cotton cloth. Then he muttered ¡°[Maintain Tools]¡± and the knives seemed to grow even sharper, if such a thing was possible. He nodded in satisfaction - it was time for the final step.


    He pulled arge piece of folded white bup out of the case and unfurled it, revealing a dopey picture of Penelope smiling her threatening smile, and the words Thirsty Goat Brewpub stenciled in ck ink. He pulled out a few pins as well, and carefully affixed the piece of heraldry to the outside of his counter.


    Then he turned to his dearest friends, and gave them a thumbs up. Up in the stands Lady Mirra looked scandalized, but Opal looked pleased as could be.


    Even from here he could hear Pete squeal, which made it all worth it. His actions seemed to throw off some of the otherpetitors, which also made it worth it, though he noticed that Tkatan of Kebab Cuisine had done something simr with her own restaurant¡¯s ¡®Logo¡¯ (such an odd word) - a South Erden bird called a Crane.


    ¡°CHEFS, PREPARE FOR MARKET TIME!!!¡±


    The crowd grew fric, shouting, jeering, calling, and roaring. Bran was pretty sure a few people had to be using volume based Abilities. It didn¡¯t matter to him though - he simply dropped into that cool calm ce of focus that came upon him whenever he cooked. His surroundings sharpened and the only thing that mattered now was the here, the now, and the food.


    ¡°GO!!!!¡± The announcer cried, and every single chef charged at the market, some of them activating movement Abilities as they did so.


    Every single chef except for Bran, who calmly waited at his kitchen counter.


    Unmoving.

 Book 2: Chapter 22: Market Mayhem

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 22: Market Mayhem</h4>


    Bran observed the carnage as the crowd hooted and hollered. Some noticed the only dwarf left behind and were pointing andughing, or giving approving nods. The wisest had probably figured out what he was doing.


    The first to hit the market like a spell from the wand was the chef of the <i>Rusty Battleaxe</i>. He screeched to a halt at the butcher¡¯s row and opened his mouth just in time to get smashed into by two gnomes and a dwarfess. A quick tussle ensued with Abilities being thrown out left and right. It wasn¡¯t umon for most Titled to have the oddbat Ability picked up over the years, and they were all on disy now.


    ¡°[Basic sh]!"


    ¡°[Basic Dodge]!¡±


    ¡°[Intermediate Cleave]!¡±


    The first fourbatants were soon met by another five, and it became too chaotic to pick out any individual person. Bran chuckled to himself as <i>Rusty Battleaxe</i> went down with the gnome from <i>House of Meat¡¯s </i>teeth in his ankle.


    Bran looked away to surveil the rest of the market. <i>Kebab Cuisine</i> and <i>The Fickle Fig </i>were<i></i>haggling with the vegetable merchants over what was left of the cabbage cart. Joejam and a couple other gnomes were making their way into the general stores, and a single dwarfess he didn¡¯t recognize was deep inside the dungeon-goods stalls.


    Bran nodded, it was turning out just as he''d expected. Most of the chefs were going for tried-and-true recipes. At least half were fighting over goat meat - an easy crowd pleaser - and the rest were concentrating on vegetables. Those in the vegetable section would go to the butcher''s row for pork or chickenter, both of which would stay rtively cheap.


    His n was simple. First, see what everyone else was making while avoiding the mad rush and chancing some foolish injury. Second, make something unique that would stand out amongst a sea of chicken and goat dishes. Third, monopolize some of the garnishes or spices that he knew would be in short supply.


    It was an easy way to sabotage hispetitors while they fought over choice cuts of goat and fresh vegetables.


    Now that he had a rough idea of what the others were cooking, it was time to make a decision. He pulled open the Ability he¡¯d received from creating 800 new recipes: [Recipe Book]. A gleaming immaterial book appeared in his vision, much like a notification would, and he spun through the pages as quick as thought. He immediately discarded all the goat dishes - no point in those, and briefly considered some chicken based meals. No, he wanted to stand out even more. He would cook with foods no-one else would dare touch in apetition like this.


    His mental fingernded on two particr recipes and he smiled in satisfaction.


    <strong>Mushrooms Aaron </strong>


    1 Spoon Oil


    5 Large ckcap Mushrooms


    ? Mug Cave Crab


    ? Mug of Unigoat Cheese, Creamed and Whipped


    ? Mug of Aged Brittle Unigoat Cheese - Grated


    ? Spoon of lemon juice


    4 Green Onions - Finely Diced


    Pinch of Salt and Pepper


    1.Massage mushroom caps to clean and remove stems.


    2. Saute caps in medium hot oil.


    3. Mince mushroom stems and stir in a bowl with all remaining ingredients except grated cheese.


    4. Stuff mushrooms and top with grated cheese.


    5. Cook on low oven rack for 10 mins then switch to top rack for 2 mins.


    <strong>Cavetrout Cakes with Vegetables and Tartar Sauce</strong>


    2 Erdroots - Boiled and Diced


    ? kg Cooked Cavetrout


    3 Spoons of Sour Cream


    2 Spoons of Butter


    3 Green Onions - Finely Diced


    1 Spoon of Salt


    1 Spoon of Tarragon


    ? Spoon Pepper


    ? Spoon Mustard


    ? kg Mixed Vegetables


    3 Eggs - Beaten


    Erdroot Flour


    Breadcrumbs


    Frying Oil


    1. Begin steaming vegetables.


    2. Put all the top ingredients into a bowl and mix thoroughly.


    3. Form the mix into equal sized patties.


    4. Brush the patties with egg and coat in breadcrumbs.


    5. Cool in Cooling Space for 2 Hours or overnight.


    6. Fry in oil on high for 3 minutes each side then serve with steamed Greens and Tartar Sauce.


    Bran nodded. These two plus some tartar sauce would definitely make him stand out. He wouldn''t have time to cool them, but he could make do by baking instead of frying. The tartar sauce could be mixed with beer for a subtle kick that the dwarven judges would appreciate and for the gnomish judges he would simply add a bit of extra lemon to the sauce instead.


    For dessert, he would make the elm bark creampuffs he''d been working onst night.


    Decision made, he set arge pot to boil, turned the oven on to preheat, then grabbed a pan and sack from the prepared supplies. With a second nce to ensure everything would be ready for his return, Bran ran towards the least upied section of the market - the dungeon supplies. He was briefly interrupted by a gnome in simple leathers who stumbled out from the meat mob. A simple swing of the frying pan and a *gong* and the obstacle was ¡®removed¡¯.


    A dozen more strides and he was in amongst the dungeon supplies. It was oddly muffled in here, and Bran realized that they must have set up the market to filter out the sound from the arena.


    With darting eyes, he spotted his first stop and ran up to the only spice vendor he could see - a small kioskbeled <i>Quickkettle Spices</i>.<i></i>


    ¡°Are you the only spice seller?¡± He asked the gnomish proprietor; an elderly gent with a white handlebar moustache.


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°How much for all yer tarragon, basil, dill, and pepper, I also need some salt.¡±


    The spice merchantughed. ¡°You got the same idea as my first customer! That¡¯ll be four gold fer all my tarragon and dill. I¡¯m not the only one with basil, salt is with the general goods, and I¡¯m almost out of pepper - she nearly cleaned me out. It¡¯ll be another two gold for the rest of it.¡±


    Damn! Bran was d he¡¯de here first. He weighed the likely cost of his remaining ingredients and grinned. He should still have enough. ¡°I¡¯ll buy it. Put it in this sack please, I don¡¯t want the others to see what I have.¡±


    The shopkeeper dutifully weighed out the spices into little bup bags, then passed them over. Bran could feel eyes on him as the winners of the meat fight made their way into the dungeon supplies. He felt a trickle of sweat fall down his back, and as soon as he¡¯d shoved the spice bags into his sack, he turned and ran.


    And almost tripped on a boot stuck in his path. He managed to stay on his feet, but careened through the fabric curtains into a tentbeled <i>Dungeon Sundries</i>. Hended on someone in a tangle of limbs and fabric.


    ¡°Owf! Gerroff me!¡± Bran hollered.


    ¡°Midna¡¯s Mangy Mullet! You gerroff me!!¡±


    Some shouting and scufflingter and the two detangled. Bran recognized the dwarfess that had run into the section first and gave her a wary nod.


    ¡°Did ya buy thast of the pepper?¡± She asked, pointing to his bup sack. ¡°I couldn¡¯t afford all of it.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± Bran said ndly.


    She held out her hand for a fist bump. ¡°I¡¯m Rubelia. I own <i>The Hungry Duckling</i>.¡±


    ¡°Bran, <i>The Thirsty Goat</i>.¡±


    Her eyes widened. ¡°<i>The</i> Bran? I bought some of your recipes.¡±


    Now wasn¡¯t that a nice feeling. Having someone buy your work was the greatest thing in the world. Hopefully it was one of his originals and not one of Pete¡¯s.


    Outside the tent, there was the sound of angry shouting.


    ¡°By tha Grace o¡¯ Tiara, what do ya <i>mean</i> there ain¡¯t no pepper!?¡± One voice bellowed.


    Another, with a higher pitch. ¡°I need tarragon for my chicken tarragon!! How are you <i>OUT!?¡±</i>


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna ram this spoon up the arse of whoever did this!!¡±


    ¡°Someone look over there! Whoever it was couldn¡¯t have gotten far!!¡±


    ¡°It may have been the one I tripped! He went that way!¡±


    ¡°[Enhance Perception]!¡±


    ¡°[Quicken Steps]!¡±


    He and the dwarfess gave each other wide eyes and nodded. She snuck out of the tent while Bran stopped long enough to grab some sweet vines and a packet of bundled elm twigs. He tossed three gold coins to the confused shopkeeper and ran. He''d probably overpaid, but there was no time to haggle.


    The two decamped in opposite directions, Rubelia in the direction of the now empty butcher¡¯s row, and Bran in the direction of the vegetable suppliers. His next ingredients would be found there.


    The mushrooms, green onions, erdroot, and various vegetables were more expensive and poorer quality than he would''ve liked. Most of the best produce had been taken by the time he got there, and he was left with some slightly-wilted green leafy fronds Pete had once called ¡®Gai Lan-ish¡¯ but which every dwarf knew as ¡®Dungeon Greens¡¯. Bran sighed as he handed over another two gold and stuffed it all into his sack.


    As he turned to leave, he was osted by the chef from <i>House of Meats</i>. The squinty gnome had a rapidly healing bruise on one eye and was limping. He carried a pile of wrapped meats that he set down on a nearby counter as he turned an angry re on Bran.


    ¡°Was it you?¡± He asked, adjusting his newsboy cap.


    ¡°Dunno what yer talkin¡¯ about.¡± Bran said cagily.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have the charisma to lie to me.¡± The gnome scoffed. ¡°I saw you heading to the dungeon supplies first. It had to be you. Give me some pepper, I need it.¡± He held out his hand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any.¡± Balin sidled sideways, trying to get around. <i>House of Meats</i> moved to intercept.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t give me some pepper, I¡¯m going to yell and get everyone running over here. They¡¯re ready to take whoever bought all the spices <i>apart</i>,¡± He threatened.


    Bran considered for a moment, then shook his head and readied his pan.


    ¡°Your funeral. [Project Voice] - ¡± <i>House of Meats </i>was interrupted as the frying pan whizzed through the air and spanged him square on the forehead. He went down like a sack of ore.


    ¡°Never underestimate a <i>Hurler</i>! And don¡¯t waste time sayin¡¯ your Abilities out loud in a fight, idjit.¡± Bran muttered. He had just enough time to slip the pile of meat into his sack as he ran past. He didn¡¯t particrly need it, but it would cost the gnome dearly.


    The general goods section was next, and it was oddly calm. A gnome with an eyepatch and a scar running from temple to chin stood at the entry to a circle of carts filled with butter, eggs, cream, salt, erdroot flour, and other mundane ingredients.


    ¡°You fight in there, I beat your ass and take all yer stuff.¡± The gnome proimed with a gruff grunt, and Bran gave him a wide berth. Two other contestants were lying unconscious at the entrance, so it clearly wasn¡¯t an empty threat. Bran filled his sack with pickles, mayonnaise, eggs, sour cream, goats milk, cheese and various other ingredients for another four gold.


    As he made his way out of the general goods, Bran spotted <i>House of Meats </i>walking in his direction with <i>The Rusty Battleaxe </i>and the dwarfess proprietor of <i>The Fickle Fig</i>. The gnome, now spotting a massive goose-egg on his forehead, pointed Bran out.


    ¡°There he is!¡±


    ¡°Yearn¡¯s Yams, the little bastard! I should''ve trussed him up!¡± Bran hissed and ran in the opposite direction. He might''ve guessed that the Netherspawned bastard had [Regeneration]. After all, most professional chefs were Blessed by Barck.


    ¡°[Basic Charge]!¡± <i>The Fickle Fig</i> shouted and was upon Bran in an instant. Bran swung his pan nimbly, but his dexterity and skill were unable to outmaneuver her Ability boosted agility. She swung a wooden spoon up in an arc directly at his forehead and for a brief moment, Bran despaired.


    Then there was an explosion of heat and sound as the air beside them erupted in a massive fireball. Bran took the worst of it; he was thrown down to the ground, his head ringing. He could feel the skin on his back crisp from the heat.


    <i>The Fickle Fig</i> was blown off her feet and flung into the approaching <i>House of Meats </i>and <i>Rusty Battleaxe</i>. The three desperately tried to untangle, then shrieked as another fireball impacted by their feet<i>. </i>In a mess of limbs and singed moustaches, they turned and ran away.


    Bran tried to stand as well, but the fireball had knocked him briefly senseless. His vision narrowed like he was going down a mining tunnel, and every thought was pain. With a groan he looked up to meet the feet of the proprietress of <i>Kebab Cuisine, </i>Tkatan<i>.</i> The brown-skinned gnomess gave him a wide smile, her wand held at the ready.


    ¡°If you would kindly please pass me that sack, you have something that I need.¡± She said, her voice sickeningly sweet given the circumstances.


    With a sinking heart, Bran reached a shaking hand out to the bag at his side, trying desperately to grab hold of it. He would be <i>damned</i> if he gave it up without a fight!


    ¡°Thank you!¡± And with that, Tkatan grabbed the bag away from his shaking hand.


    He passed out.

 Book 2: Chapter 23: Flambè de Dwarf

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 23: mb¨¨ de Dwarf</h4>


    <strong>Previously, In the stands</strong>


    We all sat at the edge of our seats as dozens of small stories unfolded before us. The crowd cheered, booed, and roared their approval andughter at the appropriate moments, spurred on by the announcer.


    ¡°OOOOH!!! HE¡¯S GOING TO FEEL THAT IN HIS ANKLES IN THE MORNING!¡±


    ¡°AND THE RUSTY BATTLEAXE REALLY PUT THE HURT INTO THE FICKLE FIG!¡±


    ¡°KEBAB CUISINE HAS PURCHASED CHICKPEAS, PARSLEY, TOMATOES, AND CILANTRO! WHAT COULD SHE BE MAKING!?¡±


    ¡°IT LOOKS LIKE THE THIRSTY GOAT AND THE HUNGRY DUCKLING HAVE CORNERED THE SPICE MARKET! WHAT A CLEVER PLAN, LET¡¯S SEE IF THEY CAN AVOID RETRIBUTION FROM THE OTHER ANGRY CHEFS!¡±


    Our small knot of supporters surged to our feet at that one.


    ¡°Brilliant n, Bran!¡± I cried.


    ¡°Ha ha!¡± Aqua cheered. ¡°He¡¯s going to win this for sure!¡±


    *MEEEEEEEHHH!!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Show them your mettle, my servant!¡±


    Penelope nipped at my beard. Ok, maybe she was actually demanding food. I passed her a goat snack.


    A chorus ofughter engulfed the arena as the dwarves in the dungeon supplies section started fighting over the remaining spices. In the meantime Bran made his way through the rest of the market without incident. He filled his sack with a bunch of different vegetables and then snuck out towards the general goods.


    The announcer announced all the while. ¡°AND THE <i>THIRSTY GOAT</i> HAS PURCHASED ERDROOT, MUSHROOMS, LEMONS, GREEN ONIONS, AND DUNGEON GREENS! WHAT COULD HE BE MAKING? MOST OF THE GOOD MEATS ARE ALREADY GONE! HE STILL HASN¡¯T MADE IT TO THE MEAT MARKET, SO COULD IT BE A VEGETARIAN DISH? OR IS HE PLANNING A MORE DIRECT APPROACH?¡±


    ¡°Do ya have any idea what he¡¯s makin¡¯!?¡± Balin yelled at me over the sound of the crowd.


    I pursed my lips in consideration. ¡°There¡¯s no way it¡¯s a vegetarian dish, that would be sure to lose; too many dwarves are picky about their vegetables. It¡¯s got to be¡­ a chicken or fish dish. Maybe onion and mushroom chicken? Or it could be Mushrooms Neptune - I mean Mushrooms Aaron.¡±


    I¡¯d taught him the signature appy of my favourite Canadian steakhouse on ark, but he¡¯d really fallen in love with it and made it his own.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Johnsson asked from over my shoulder.


    ¡°A fish dish. Remember those mushrooms filled with cave crab? It¡¯ll stand out, and it¡¯s really tasty.¡± If that was what he was doing, it was a <i>great</i> n.


    ¡°Oooh, I did quite like those,¡± Moony said affectionately.


    Bran ran into the <i>House of Meat¡¯s</i> chef, and the two of them exchanged words. Then, quick as thought, Bran nailed the gnome with his frying pan and was looting his shopping bag. We all jumped up and began waving our posters and signs and shouting our support. He couldn¡¯t hear us in there, the announcer had said outside sound was mostly filtered out, but maybe he would look over and spot us.


    ¡°AND THE THIRSTY GOAT NOW HAS THE BEST CUTS OF MEAT IN THE MARKET!! IF THAT WAS PLANNED, IT WAS A GREAT PLAN!¡±


    I looked over at Opal, who was clenching her fists and straining her jaw. Most of the nobles were either disinterested or uncaring. A <i>few</i> seemed invested, and one of them even had a bottle of Ass-ster in his hand. He was standing with one foot on the hand-rail, shouting and waving his arms in joy and anger. I realized with a start that I actually <i>recognized </i>him. He was one of the heavy bettors from the Barck Beer Brawl. The other nobles around him were slowly backing out of the <i>st</i> zone.


    Speaking of which.


    ¡°Did any of you bet anything on this? I didn¡¯t have time.¡± I asked the crew.


    ¡°I put a couple gold on Bran.¡± Johnsson put up his hand.


    ¡°I spent all ma spare change on some new grimoires. No gold left fer bettin¡¯." Richter shrugged.


    "That may be a good idea¡­" John muttered.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t, did we need to?¡± Aqua asked.


    I sighed. ¡°It would have been helpful, we¡¯re almost broke after buying all those new tanks.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Annie screeched, then caught the twinkle in my eye. ¡°YOU!!!¡±


    Aqua and Iughed.


    ¡°Stop teasin¡¯ Annie, Pete.¡± Balin said, but one side of his handlebar moustache was higher than the other.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Fiiiine. Y¡¯know, this is fun, but it feels weird. Shouldn¡¯t a cookingpetition mostly be about cookin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Well, it <i>is </i>entertaining. Some weirdo noble in Kinshasa probably invented it. To watch the [Artisans] who¡¯re better dwarves than they¡¯ll ever be get all banged up.¡± Johnsson grumbled. ¡°The judges¡¯ll make sure tha best chef still wins.¡±


    It actually reminded me of a Canadian cooking show called <i>Cutthroat Kitchen</i>. The grocery rush, sabotage, and other features were quite simr. Perhaps the designer loved wrestling and wanted some of that bombast in the Octamillenial contests? Or ¡­


    Down below, Bran hadpleted his purchases in the general goods and was making his way out of the market.


    ¡°Look! That <i>House of Meats </i>dinkleberry is back!¡± Markus pointed. ¡°And he¡¯s brought friends!!!¡±


    We all sat at attention at that, and a few others began to notice the tableau.


    ¡°OOOH, THE THIRSTY GOAT¡¯S LUCK HAS RUN OUT! HE MAY BE RELIEVED OF SOME OF THOSE SPICES IN JUST A MOMENT! THE FICKLE FIG HAS CHARGED HIM, AND - WAIT, WHAT¡¯S - ¡°


    There was a *BOOM* and a sh of light as a fireball exploded beside Bran. The crowd screamed, then grew silent as a plume of smoke rose above the market. My poster slipped out of frozen fingers as Bran was clouded by clouds and dust. Then another sh of light spurred the crowd to raucous cheers.


    ¡°IT LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THE CHEFS IS A TALENTED MAGE! KEBAB CUISINE HAS TAKEN COMMAND OF THE SCENE!! I HOPE SHE¡¯S AS GOOD AT COOKING FOOD AS SHE IS AT COOKING THE COMPETITION! THE THIRSTY GOAT IS DOOOOWN!!!! THE JUDGES MAY COUNT THAT AS A PENALTY THOUGH!!!¡±


    The dust cleared to reveal Bran lying on the ground, his opened sack beside him. His back was ck and charred, and the hair on his head was smoking.


    ¡°BRAN!!!¡± Aqua screamed,unching herself over the railing. She simply bounced off an invisible wall and fell back into the stands.


    ¡°Is he alive!?¡± I shouted, rising to my feet. Penelope fell off myp to the ground with an angry *meeeh*.


    ¡°He¡¯s a <i>dwarf</i>!¡± John grumbled anxiously. ¡°And he¡¯s got [Regeneration]. He¡¯ll be fine, but the question is¡­ will he wake up in time?¡±


    ¡°OOOH!!! AND THE JUDGES HAVE GIVEN KEBAB CUISINE A PENALTY FOR MAGIC MISUSE!! SHE CAN¡¯T COOK FOR THE NEXT HOUR! NO WIDE AREA SPELLS ALLOWED!¡±


    At least half of the twenty-four chefs made it out of the market and started on their dishes.


    I looked across the arena to the noble boxes. Opal was standing, her fists gripping the rail. Her face had gone white, and she was screaming Bran¡¯s name as well. Her mother was sitting rxed beside her, a smug look on her face.


    I Was <i>SudDeNly STrUcK </i>by a StrOng need ta <i>wIpE</i> it oFFa her FaCE <i>wit'' an</i> AxE. Ta tEAch <i>her</i> ta MESS WIT'' ONE O'' <i>MINE. </i>My hands grasped for a weapon, my vision went red with rage, and I felt a battle-cry rise in my throat. It was only with extreme effort that I tamped the feeling back down.


    I gasped for breath, sweat suddenly streaming down my face. Where had <i>that</i>e from!? There wasn¡¯t a violent bone in my body!


    No, there hadn¡¯t been a violent bone in <i>Peter Phillip¡¯s</i> body. My dwarven body was something else altogether. Was this how some dwarves felt <i>all the time</i>!? It exined soooo much.


    A minute passed, then two, then ten, then twenty. More and more of thepetitors made it out of the market and began cooking.


    The announcer called a few more points of interest, but we barely heard him, our attention rooted to one spot.


    ¡°THE HOUSE OF MEATS HAS LEFT THE MARKET! IT LOOKS LIKE HE COULDN¡¯T HANDLE KEBAB CUISINE¡¯S HEAT!¡±


    ¡°THE RUSTY BATTLEAXE HAS MANAGED TO INJURE THE HUNGRY DUCKLING, BUT SHE¡¯S MADE IT OUT OF THE MARKET AND IS SAFE AT HER PREP STAND!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not moving!¡± Aqua wailed when Bran became the sole chef left in the market.


    I raised by fist and began to chant Bran''s name in a fixed cadence. ¡°Bran! COME ON, BRAN! BRAN! BRAN!¡± Who cared if he couldn''t hear us? Take my psychic energy and get up ya ck bearded bravo!


    Aqua joined me, followed by Balin, Annie, and the rest of the crew in short order. Our calls drowned out the rest of the audience around us.


    I grabbed one of the bigger signs that simply said ¡°GO BRAN¡± then jumped up onto the rail and faced the crowd. I held it aloft and waved, then resumed the chant. ¡°BRAN! BRAN!¡±


    First our neighbours, then a few others, then a momentter our entire side of the arena began to chant Bran¡¯s name. Most probably didn¡¯t know who he was, but I spotted some of our regrs here and there, and dwarves were always game for a good cheer.


    ¡°BRAN! BRAN! BRAN! BRAN! BRAN!¡±


    <strong>Stat Increased: [Charisma]!</strong>


    <i>Your charisma has increased by 1! Your new charisma is 16.2!</i>


    The announcer noticed and pointed us out. ¡°THE CROWD HAS BEGUN TO CHEER FOR THE THIRSTY GOAT¡¯S BRAN HURLER!! HE''S STILL DOWN AFTER KEBAB CUISINE''S ATTACK. HE MAY HEAR THEM THROUGH THE SOUND WARDS, BUT WILL IT BE ENOUGH! THE HEALERS ASSURE ME HE IS HEALING, BUT WILL HE MAKE IT IN TIME!?¡±


    The cheering continued. I felt my voice grow hoarse, but endured. After a minute or two, the chant began to die.


    Suddenly, down below, Bran stirred, and the whole arena began calling his name. Even some of the stuffed shirts had gotten into the swing of things, and I spotted Opal¡¯s father among them, pumping his arm with each cheer. Her mother looked like she¡¯d chewed a whole lemon.


    ¡°BRAN! BRAN! BRAN!¡±


    Then the small ckened figure stood, and the crowd went wild.


    ¡ª


    <strong>In the market</strong>


    The first thing Bran felt when he returned to consciousness was <i>pain</i>. Not like nicking his finger on a knife, or getting punched in the face by an angry customer, but the searing burning agony of crisped flesh.


    He forced himself to stand, then staggered. His limbs felt wrong, like they were being pulled by strings. He stubbornly forced them to move; he had a meal to cook. He felt a roaring in his ears, like the sound of his name being called. His dwarven blood thudded in his veins, and it wouldn¡¯t allow him to stop until he was dead or his craft wasplete.


    <i>He had a meal to cook.</i>


    He took one step, then another. There was a ringing in his ears, and he realized it was a notification.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Milestone Gained!</strong><strong></strong>


    You have shown dedication to your craft in the face of possible death and terrible pain<i>!</i><i></i>


    <i>Please ept one of the following:</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Resist Pain]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You can shrug off pain that wouldy low the strongest of mortals. Perception is reduced by 16 for the purpose of perceiving pain.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Resist Pain]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Resist Fire]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Armour cannot stop the burning heat of fire, but your body will! Your body bes resistant but not immune to the burning heat of fire. </i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Resist Fire]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Loved By Craft]!</strong>


    <i>The dedication you show your craft is returned eightfold. Decreases the chance of your craft failing for the next hour. </i>


    <i>You can use this Ability twice per day.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Loved By Craft]?</i></strong>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Perceive Ambush]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You have been ambushed once! Never again! Gives an indication when you are about to be ambushed. </i>


    <i>This Ability can be activated twice per day.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Percieve Ambush]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    Bran considered for a second, but the best choice was obvious. What other option could there be for one who loved his craft? He chose [Loved by Craft] with a crafty smile, and heaved a breath. His head must still be muddled, because he could still hear ringing in his ears. How long had he been out? What about the contest!? He felt a spike of fear; was it over!?


    Then he looked up.


    The entire arena was chanting in rhythm, their voicesing as though from a distance. The sound reverberated through his boots, over ten thousand voicesbining like an earthquake that shook the very sand of the arena.


    They were all shouting, Bran.


    Bran.


    Bran.


    Every eye was on him, but he turned to look at the only dwarf who mattered.


    Opal was standing on the railings, pushing against the barrier. Her mouth moved the same as everyone else. Tears streamed down her face, and he was ashamed that he¡¯d made her worry so. He stood and gave her a fist closed salute to his chest. She sped her hands against her mouth and then gave him a single tearful nod.


    It was all he needed. Strength flooded his limbs and Bran swung about looking for his sack. Had it been taken? How screwed <i>was </i>he. There. Bran grabbed the bag where ity just a metre away and opened it, his heart dreading what he would find.


    The meat he¡¯d stolen from <i>House of Meats</i> had vanished, along with most of the pepper and spices, but the rest of it was <i>still there</i>. Bran closed his eyes and thanked the Gods and Tkatan that she hadn¡¯t taken his entire life-line. All was not lost, and he owed her a favour, or a beating, maybe both. He only had one stop, and he could begin cooking. But did he have enough <i>time?</i>


    The next minutes passed as though in slow motion as he raced through the market. An intimidated dwarven fishmonger handed over a pair of trout and some shredded crab for a mere gold, practically throwing the wrapped fish into his hands.


    Each moment his [Regeneration] brought him closer to full health, and Bran was sprinting as he exited the market. He passed through the wards, and the sound hit him like a physical blow.


    ¡°BRAN! BRAN! BRAN!¡±


    The voices changed to joyful cheering, and hats, shoes, dwarves, and goats were flung around in the crowd.


    The announcer¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°AND BRAN HURLER MAKES IT OUT OF THE MARKET! IT LOOKS LIKE HE¡¯S PLANNING A FISH PLATE! IS IT A CHANGE IN PLAN? WILL HE HAVE TIME TO FINISH? HE ONLY HAS ONE HOUR LEFT!!!¡±


    One hour, it was enough.


    Well, it was enough if he cut some corners, but then -


    Bran spun his knife and grinned. ¡°[Basic Knifework].¡±


    He was <i>good</i> at cutting.

 Book 2: Chapter 24: Who Hates Chapter Title Spoilers?

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 24: Who Hates Chapter Title Spoilers?</h4>


    "JOEJAM SEEMS TO BE FOCUSING ON HIS DESSERT, AND WHAT A TREAT! I HOPE HE ADDS THAT TO THE MENU, BECAUSE IT LOOKS DELICIOUS!!"


    The announcer¡¯s voice was a constant annoyance in the back of Bran¡¯s perception, not that he paid it much heed. He had more important things to do, like ensuring his cream puffs didn¡¯t copse, and not cutting a finger off as he worked faster than he ever had before. It would¡¯ve been nice if the sound wards had extended to the cooking section.


    One hour was <i>nothing </ipared to making a meal for the dinner rush, but in the pub he had Lemontwist to help and most of the food was half-prepared already. Plus, many of their meals were deep fried and that didn¡¯t exactly take a master chef. It almost felt like cheating sometimes, or an insult to the recipe to simply throw it in boiling oil for a few minutes. Either way, he had confidence that he couldplete his cooking in the short time he had avable.


    Of course, he''d still activated his new [Loved By Craft], just in case.


    Bran whisked the erdroot flour and salt in with the simmering butter and water. His high dexterity, an impressive 26, allowed his hand to whizz about in a blur. Pete had once remarked that it looked almost like a ¡®hand mixer¡¯, which was obvious - it was his <i>hands</i>. Bran was proud of his dex, as it demonstrated his many centuries of dedicated hard work both as an axe-thrower and as a chef.


    With a few spins, the mixture formed into a solid ball, and he transferred it to a mixing bowl where he promptly beat several eggs into it. Hopefully he would <i>beat</i> thepetition just as handily.


    Ugh. Pete was rubbing off on him.


    ¡°AND IT LOOKS LIKE KEBAB CUISINE IS OUT OF PENALTY TIME! SHE''S USING HER FIRE MAGIC TO GRILL UP SOME OF THAT MEAT SHE TOOK OFF OF THE THIRSTY GOAT!!!¡±


    Three pots boiled merrily on Bran''s stove, one filled with elm twigs, the second with dungeon greens, and the third with peeled erdroots. Bran was doing the cream puffs first; they took the longest to bake in the oven and were fine to serve cold. They¡¯d need around twenty to thirty minutes to bake, the mushrooms would take twenty, and finally the fishcakes would need another thirty.


    A bead of sweat rolled down Bran¡¯s forehead. ording to his pocket watch, he had¡­ forty minutes left. There wasn¡¯t enough time, and worse, thepetition was about to enter the next phase.


    "ITS TIME TO START THE INTERFERENCE STAGE! CHEFS MAY NOW LEAVE THEIR COOKING AREAS! THE COMPETITION IS GOING TO HEAT UP!!"


    Most of the chefs were too busy with their preparations to take the time to mess with each other. That would change as their preppleted, but Bran expected that none of the chefs who¡¯d made it this far would be idiotic enough to -


    ¡°AND HOUSE OF MEATS HAS MOVED OUT OF HIS COOKING STATION AND IS HEADING INTO THE ARENA. WHERE WILL HE GO FIRST?¡±


    Bran looked up to see the disheveled gnome, face still bruised, angrily stalking in his direction. The gnome¡¯s apron was in disarray, and a mess of vegetables sat upon his counter in a sad wilted mess. A soup pot boiled on the stove, and there wasn¡¯t any meat to be seen. He was carrying a pot full of scummy gunk in one hand, and a knife in the other. His purple eyes promised murder and vengeance and other bloody verbs.


    Bran blinked, then his moustache bristled and his hand wrapped around a cleaver.


    This <i>punk</i> dared to <i>think</i> of interrupting a fellow chef in their craft?? Who cared if some stupid rules allowed it? No true [Artisan] or any other Titled craftsman should dream of doing so. The fake market was one thing; a chef¡¯s kitchen was their domain and their craft their life. To besmirch either was a crime worthy of swift and terrible punishment.


    Oh certainly, customers did it all the time, but it was practically expected of them. But there were limits, of course.


    If a customer stepped into the kitchen, all bets were off. The kitchen staff worked in hot, cramped, dangerous conditions. A single misstep could mean horrible burns or missing digits, and food needed toe out fast and hot and perfect every single time. There was no room for error, no chance of rest, and not enough <i>time</i>. In such an environment, even the calmest of dwarves would be stressed and on edge. And it was all the customer''s fault.


    So a customer angrily walking into that environment was met with gleeful super-violence.


    Nobody ever intruded on dwarven <i>cksmiths </i>like that, but they had axes and swords and other various instruments of death.


    Everyone tended to forget: chefs did too.


    The gnome made it three steps before twenty various ded kitchen implements, a pir of fire, and a stream of water met him in a symphony of agony. He went down without a scream andy in the sand, scorched and twitching.


    Bran snorted in appreciation and every single one of the chefs red around the arena in unison as though to say, ¡°Any other morons?¡±


    Nobody stepped forward, and the chefs resumed theirbour.


    ¡°*COUGH* WELL, IT APPEARS HOUSE OF MEATS WILL BE UNABLE TO COMPLETE HIS DISH. WILL ANYONE ELSE BE AIMING TO DISTRACT THE COMPETITION? WHO WILL MAKE THE NEXT MOVE!¡±


    The chefs ignored him, though <i>The Rusty Battleaxe</i> gave a rude gesture to the announcer¡¯s stand.


    Bran¡¯s hands rapidly formed the dough into sixteen long cream-puff shells, enough for one per judge, and double just in case. Then he opened the oven and pushed the pan of puffs inside. This step had the highest chance of failure, and he thanked the Gods for [Loved By Craft]. If the oven was unevenly hot, or he opened it too soon, or the crowd was too loud, the creampuffs would fail and he would be left with no dessert. Hopefully, with two luck boosting Abilities, he would be fine.


    ¡ª


    Thirty minutes passed as the chefs worked in frenzied silence, broken only by the asional muttered oath.


    The announcer tried to fire up the crowd several times, but by this point every gnome and dwarf (and Kirk) were watching with silent attention. Dwarves and gnomes both had a cultural appreciation for good craft, and it was on full disy here. A few members of the audience stood to get drinks or use the washroom, and the asional noisy drunk got tossed out a window, but otherwise the entire arena was deathly silent.


    At one point some costumed attendants made an appearance as ¡®drunken customers¡¯ and attempted to interfere with the chefs. They were met with concentrated fury. The organisers stopped sending more after the second group spontaneouslybusted and were thrown screaming and ming into the stands by <i>The Rusty Battleaxe</i>.


    Knives moved with rapid efficiency,dles spun in exacting circles, and pans were flipped without a speck falling out.


    Bran wiped the sweat that streamed from his brow. Eight perfect cream-puffs sat upon prepared tes, and a ninth had made its way down his gullet for energy. Each was filled with a generous amount of sweet whipped cream mixed with elm infusion. The other cream-puffs had failed, and he thanked his lucky stars for [Loved by Craft] and [Artisan Luck].


    In the oven, the Mushrooms Aaron were beginning to brown as the shredded goat cheese on top formed a crispyyer under the broiler. In front of him, sixteen perfectly circr patties of trout sat on the counter. Each was breaded with a fineyer of egg and breadcrumbs, their surfaces a sticky white-brown mess that would soon be a crispy gold.


    They needed thirty minutes in the oven, and he only had ten.


    Bran sighed, and made a prayer to Barck. He had one choice remaining: he could try to fry the cakes. Normally they <i>would </i>be fried, but they needed to be chilled first, otherwise there was a high chance they¡¯d fall apart. However, frying only took eight minutes, so he had to risk it.


    He had to trust in his skill, his [Artisan Luck], and [Loved by Craft].


    Bran took a deep breath and nced over at Opal, who was sitting primly, every inch the proper dwarven noble. Her expression was stern as her gaze bore into him. He smiled, then took one more look at the Thirsty Goat¡¯s section. Johnsson had a beer mug on his head, Richter¡¯s poster had fallen to the floor, Aqua had some stranger in a headlock, and Pete was wrestling with Penelope. Moony and Markus seemed to have fallen asleep and John had left a while ago - possibly for drinks. Only Annie and Balin were still resolutely holding a sign up: a poorly painted ¡°Go Bran, Go¡± hung there for all the world to see.


    Bran turned to his heated frying pan, and went.


    The first fish cake fell apart almost immediately, and Bran hissed. The next one he slid off of his spat with greater care, and it sizzled on the pan. The second and third fell onto the frying pan in perfect shape, but the fourth and fifth simrly fell apart. Bran gritted his teeth and increased his concentration to the limit, delicately cing the next four patties down with exacting motions. His hands never wavered, though another patty fell apart, and then he was done. Twelve patties sizzled on the stove, and Bran breathed a sigh of relief. As they cooked, the breading would help keep them together, and he was out of danger until the time came to flip them over.


    In the meantime, Bran began mixing diced pickles, mayonnaise, lemon juice, tarragon, and dill for the tartar sauce. He split the resulting creamy off-yellow sauce into two mix pots and filled one with more lemon juice, and tipped a bottle of beer into the other.


    The crowd stirred at that, and a few murmurs broke out. Bran was fairly certain that he was still one of the only chefs that was cooking with beer, and it was a great way to stand out for little cost.


    A sizzling from behind caught Bran¡¯s attention and he moved back to the frying pans. With deliberate caution he levered a spat under the first patty and flipped it. It turnedzily in the air and stted back into the oil - intact. Bran blinked then moved on to the next patty, simrly flipping it, then onto the next. He did so ten more times, until all the patties were flipped.


    Two patties fell apart as theynded back in the frying pan, leaving him with ten fish cakes remaining for eight judges. Bran almost cried with relief, then sucked the tears back into their traitorous ducts, what kind of chef <i>cried</i> over food!?


    The announcer spoke again after his long silence, his voice practically a whisper even through his Ability. ¡°There are five minutes remaining. Only <i>The Thirsty Goat</i>, <i>Kebab Cuisine</i>, and <i>Cookie Crumbles</i> are still cooking. <i>House of Meats</i> has woken up, and the [Healer] says he¡¯ll make a full recovery. Chefs, you should finish your ting.¡±


    Bran yanked the mushrooms out of the oven and breathed in the scent of cooked crab and bubbling cheese. The mushrooms were twice the size of a gold piece, and he ced two on each dinner te, thendled the steaming dungeon greens beside them. He took a moment to artfully arrange some carrot strings for added colour, then daubed a spoonful of tartar sauce in the corner with a deft flick of his wrist.


    Then he added a sizzling fish cake topped with a sprig of parsley to each te in turn.


    One fish.


    Two fish.


    Three fish.


    The fourth fell apart as his spat touched it, and he groaned. He picked up another and it held.


    Five fish.


    The sixth broke in half as itnded on the te, and Bran clenched his teeth as he swept it away. The recement was fine, but there were no more spares.


    Seven fish.


    With steady fingers, Bran scooped up the final fish cake. He neatlyid it down on thest te, then stepped back to admire his work, just as the announcer raised his voice again.


    ¡°And that¡¯s time! Chef¡¯s, please stand back from your kitchens, and allow the attendants toe collect your food!¡±


    Bran¡¯s knees grew weak and he almost copsed. In the stands, the crowd erupted with cheers and pping.


    ¡ª


    I grabbed Aqua and pulled her into a hug. Beside us, Johnson and Richter were screaming and clinging to each other. Markus and Moony both awoke with a start and pped in confusion.


    Bran had finished! The first hurdle was done, but now came the hard part, the judging! We all retook our seats and waited to see what was nned.


    It was¡­ anticlimactic.


    I was expecting something where the judges would speak their thoughts on each dish, then take a small bite. There would be a nerve wracking moment as they chewed followed by them describing in too much detail how <i>moist </i>and <i>aftertoney</i> it was. A gnomish judge would float into the air on a current of delicious pleasure and a dwarf would spew fire from the heat of a roast.


    But, with eight judges times twenty four contestants¡­ that was impractical.


    Instead, the attendants rolled in one meal at a time and set the tes in front of the judges. They took one or two bites, wrote down notes, then waved for the next meal. In the meantime the chefs were all brought back below the arena, leaving the sands empty.


    This seemed to be the time for people to hit the can or the keg. I took the chance to pass some goat snacks off to Penelope.


    *meeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°These treats are as sweet as Bran¡¯s victory will be.¡±


    Damn straight.


    It looked like Bran¡¯s food had turned out perfectly, and I admit that I¡¯d sweated when he¡¯d gone straight to frying the fish cakes - the MAD-dwarf! I couldn''t believe they hadn¡¯t all crumbled to dust, and I bowed to the master.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll win?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be tight,¡± I admitted. ¡°And it¡¯lle down to whether or not his choice to stand out pays off.¡±


    ¡°Who do ya think is tha bestpetition?¡± Richter asked.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ Most of the meals were grilled, fried, broiled, sauteed, or steamed goat or chicken with vegetables or erdroot of some kind. Mostly safe, traditional meals, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯ll cut it fer apetition like this. Fer standouts, Kebab Cuisine had some kinda ffel and goat stir-fry thing that looked really good, that dwarf with the pompadour beard made a noodle dish with some dungeon ingredients I didn¡¯t recognize, and tha <i>Hungry Duckling</i> made a rather delicious looking bacon-wrapped chicken thing. Overall though, Bran¡¯s was the most original by far.¡±


    ¡°Urgh, I¡¯m getting hungry just thinking about it.¡± Johnsson said, licking his lips.


    Balin whooped. ¡°So Bran¡¯s got a chance!?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I think he¡¯ll definitely stand out, and the Mushroom¡¯s Aaron should push him over the top.¡±


    ¡°But what about the dessert?¡± Aqua asked, wringing her hands in her beard.


    ¡°The desserts had a lot more variety. I saw everything from cakes to pies to cookies to dessert coffees. Bran¡¯s baking is <i>good</i> but I¡¯m not sure it¡¯ll stand out as much. Joejam blew him out of the water there, but he only made grilled cheese for his main.¡± If only I¡¯d been able to make chocte for Bran. I shook my head, I missed chocte almost more than my wife these days.


    I was pulled from my thoughts as the chefs marched back out to the front of the announcer¡¯s stand. The crowd sat to attention and some screamed the names of the contestants.


    ¡°AND THE RESULTS ARE IN! IT WAS AN INCREDIBLE CONTEST WITH SKILL AND INGENUITY ON FULL DISPLAY. THE CITY OF MINNOVA THANKS OUR VALIANT CHEFS FOR THEIR EFFORTS! NOW, WITHOUT ANY FURTHER ADO, IN THIRD PLACE¡­ WITH SEARED GOAT ON A BED OF FALAFEL, KEBAB CUISINE!!!¡±


    The crowd cheered the suave looking gnomess. She raised her hand to wave, and sketched her wand around to fire some sts of fire into the air, but was clearly disappointed. She received her trophy with good grace.


    ¡°IN SECOND PLACE¡­ BASED ON THE JUDGE¡¯S COMMENTS, IT LOOKS LIKE THE PLAN TO CORNER THE SPICE MARKET PAID OFF...¡±


    We all bit our fingernails. Please don¡¯t be Bran, please don¡¯t be Bran¡­


    ¡°FOR HER BACON WRAPPED CHICKEN WITH CRISPY CABBAGE AND LEMON TARTS, THE HUNGRY DUCKLING!¡±


    The dwarfess that Bran had briefly allied with jumped and squealed for joy. She ran up and kissed the attendant that handed her the trophy. A grumble of dwarves in the crowd began ying bagpipes and she waved at them; they were all wearing duck hats.


    ¡°FINALLY. IN FIRST PLACE!!!¡±


    There was a rustling sound as the entire arena moved to the edge of their seats.


    ¡°WHO COULD HAVE EVER EXPECTED IT? WITH A COME FROM BEHIND VICTORY, FOR HIS INCREDIBLE MUSHROOM AND FISH DISH -¡°


    We didn¡¯t hear the rest as we rose in wild cheering abandon. Across the Arena, Opal had slumped back in her chair with tears in her eyes, and her father was up on the rail hooting and hollering. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. Behind me, John was ranting something about ¡°We''re rich!¡±


    Down in the sand, Bran Hurler, Champion Chef of Minnova, raised his fists to the Pinnacle and roared.

 Book 2: Chapter 25: Axeschlagen

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 25: Axescgen</h4>


    If I could use a single word to describe Bran¡¯s afterparty, it would be <i>epic</i>. Even better than mine.


    Almost every single one of our regrs came by the brewpub, along with most of the pro-drinkers, and more besides. Having the literal best chef in Minnova on the premises really helped our reputation. Of course, we didn¡¯t actually make Bran cook for his own party. We did the old ¡®set up tables outside and have Knickknack¡¯s General Goods next door provide the pickles and nuts¡¯.


    I really, REALLY, needed to get on teaching Bran how to make pretzels. Or maybe I¡¯d just sell it to Knickknack as a retirement present and be done with it.


    Opal came by roughly an hour into the drinking and was swept up by Bran into a kiss. Or <i>she </i>swept <i>him </i>up, to hear Aqua tell it. I didn¡¯t see it, since I was busy teaching a ring of rapidly expanding dwarves how to y Hammerscgen. Or, as I had adapted it to dwarven methodology - Axescgen.


    A few beer pong tables littered the party grounds, but it seemed theck of <i>violence </i>in the game inherently limited the number of yers. It only took me a minute to decide that Oktoberfest¡¯s second most dangerous game was <i>perfect</i> for dwarves. And Knickknack had all the supplies we needed too!


    ¡°Can you exin it again, Pete.¡± Kirk asked, looming over the crowd. He was hefting arge double sided battleaxe. Beside him, Zirce and Emma were busy dulling down a bunch of junk axes from Knickknack¡¯s surplus weapons section and passing them around. Next to me, an enormous tree slice had been set up on some bricks, putting it at thigh height for a dwarf. The wooden circle was just over two meters in diameter, which left plenty of room for people to crowd around it.


    ¡°Sure ¨C"


    I was interrupted as a white head butted my knee. Penelope stood there, slightly swaying with her goat shaped drinking bowl in her mouth.


    *meeee - hick - eeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°My bowl is empty, *hick* and if it is not filled I - I - I will use that axe on <i>you</i>, servant.¡±


    ¡°Give me a second, Penelope.¡± I waved her off, then turned back to Kirk. ¡°It¡¯s easy enough. First, ya need to drive a nail into the wood so that it sticks.¡± I took a nail and drove it partway into the round with a single hefty blow of the back of a woodsman¡¯s axe.


    ¡°Not much of a game.¡± One of the dwarves in the circle muttered.


    ¡°Shaddup, it hasn¡¯t started yet. Kirk, you do it over there, and Beatbox you do one over there, I need to make sure it¡¯s an appropriate height for gnomes.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely!¡± Beatbox said chipperly. He¡¯d onlye away from the beer pong tables because of the promise of a new drinking game. He took a hatchet from the twin¡¯s pile and simrly drove his nail into the round. Kirk had to take two swings to get the hang of hitting such a low target.


    ¡°This is much harder than it looks!¡± Kirk proimed, then got down onto his knees for a better angle.


    I continued with my exnation. ¡°Nowes the <i>actual </i>hard part. We¡¯re going to take turns tryin¡¯ ta hit our nail into the wood with tha pointy part of the axe. If ya miss, you have to take a drink, if you seed, we go right round around the round. Heh.¡±


    Beatbox caressed his hatchet. ¡°What if you never miss?¡±


    ¡°Then go drink some more ande back!¡± I chuckled. ¡°The winner is the first person to fully bury their nail.¡±


    I swung my axe pointy end first, missed and had to take a drink. Kirk swung his, and managed to bury it in the round. He grumbled and pulled it out, the recoil causing him to swing the axe back and spang another dwarf on the helmet. While the two of them set to fighting, Beatbox calmlynded a blow to his nail and nodded to me.


    ¡°Everyone got it?¡± I asked the assembled group. There was a chorus of assents.


    ¡°Aye!¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Looks fun!¡± ¡°Ya HIT ME with an AXE!¡± ¡°I said I was <i>sorry!!!</i>¡± ¡°Halp! Me drink! Somebody get this goat offa me!¡±


    The round was big enough for a dozen people to stand around it, and soon the sound of axes into wood and metal on metal joined the general merriment.


    One hourter a posse had gone out to get a set of fresh rounds, and Kirk was carrying Beatbox in his arms. The two of them were singing an upbeat sea shanty of all things. Kirk had to have taught it to Beatbox given thepleteck of <i>sea</i> down here.


    <i>When I was a boy, I went to sea,</i><i></i>


    <i>Upon a pirate ship.</i><i></i>


    <i>I traveled the world, because you see,</i><i></i>


    <i>I¡¯d had a little nip.</i>


    <i>My mother wept, the day I left</i><i></i>


    <i>I''ve never missed her yet. </i><i></i>


    <i>I packed my bags, and fled that nag,</i><i></i>


    <i>To be a scally-wag!</i><i></i>


    <i></i>


    <i>Do you hear the white horn blowing, you drunken pirate scum? </i><i></i>


    <i>The day is lost, thew has won, make for the setting sun.</i><i></i>


    <i>Way hey, by it all, bear aw-ay west.</i><i></i>


    <i>Way hey, by it all, bear aw-ay west.</i>


    <i>With a keg of gin, to set to rights,</i><i></i>


    <i>Wind in my mizzenmast.</i><i></i>


    <i>I sailed west, eight days and nights,</i><i></i>


    <i>On seas of fortune cast.</i>


    <i>I went on raids, I plundered maids,</i><i></i>


    <i>I tell you, I gotid!</i><i></i>


    <i>Though all I found, when I came round,</i><i></i>


    <i>Was that I¡¯d run aground!</i>


    <i>Do you hear the white horn blowing, you drunken pirate scum? </i><i></i>


    <i>The day is lost, thew has won, make for the setting sun.</i><i></i>


    <i>Way hey, by it all, bear aw-ay west.</i><i></i>


    <i>Way hey, by it all, bear aw-ay west.</i>


    There were a few more lines, and by the time the pair had sung it twice, everyone ying Axescgen was singing along.


    Add one to Kirk possibly having a checkered past. I really, <i>really</i> hoped we hadn¡¯t hired a literal pirate for his pretty face, giant legs, superb waitering skills, and lovely singing voice.


    To be fair, the giant could really hit those <i>high</i> notes.


    ¡ª


    The party was a massive high, the day after¡­ was a massive crash.


    I was the only person in the Thirsty Goat today. Well, Zirce and Emma were here too, but they were just cleaning. Everyone else was eitherid out, or gettingid. Bran and Opal had disappeared at some point, and Balin never returned to our housingst night. Markus, Moony, and Jeremiah had left at the start of the party and never returned. Aqua was passed out <i>inside</i> the boil kettle cuddling a hungover Penelope, and Richter and Johnsson were asleep in each other¡¯s arms under a pic table again. Kirk was unconscious on the roof of the Thirsty Goat.


    Sigh¡­. I could try asking Emerelda out, but she was kind of <i>intense</i>. Lillyweather still reminded me a tad too much of my daughter and her friends. There was always Raspberrysyrup, goodness knew we had enough inmon, and Lemontwist would be overjoyed. But¡­ it didn¡¯t really feel like we <i>meshed </i>in that way<i>. </i>For one thing, she groaned at my puns instead ofughing at them.


    Another time Pete, another time. You have work to do, and not much time to do it.


    Zirce stuck her head in the door, and then Emma peeked in underneath, her vision mostly obscured by Zirce¡¯s pink beard. ¡°Hey boss man! Whatchaupto, eh?¡± They asked in unison.


    Easterners were <i>weird</i>.<i></i>


    I sighed and rubbed at my temples. ¡°Are you two done with the cleanup?¡±


    ¡°Everythin¡¯ except the rafters.¡± Emma nodded.


    ¡°Not doing those without <i>Kirk</i>.¡± Zirce finished. Then the pair giggled for some reason.


    I was still getting used to the twins. They were a lot more bubbly than most dwarves, almost <i>gnomish</i> in their general attitude and outlook. I¡¯d asked Richter about it, and he¡¯d told me that Eastern Crack was where the majority of the gnomish enves had originally settled. They were on the far reaches of the dwarven kingdom, and suffered the nobility poorly. Culturally speaking, Eastern Crack had split from the West several octamillenia ago.


    ¡°So what <i>are </i>you doing.¡± Emma asked, peering around the office.


    I had three erdroot variants on my desk. Normally, erdroot resembled a cross between a yam and a ginger-root. Kind of like a fat ginseng, actually,plete with the lined tan skin. Most of the local shops sold basic white erdroot, which tasted kind of like a potato with a dusty texture.


    That didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t more variations, and I¡¯d gotten my hands on a couple dungeon erdroot. They were more expensive, but money wasn¡¯t really an object right now. One had an orange tinge to the skin, another looked normal but was purple inside, and thest was dark brown with ck flesh.


    My book of <i>Alchemical Ingredients: A Primer </i>called it a ¡®Burnt Umber Erdroot¡¯ and it had alchemical properties that included a slight stamina boost and perception boost when eaten and prepared properly. It was essentially caffeine, which was appropriate, because¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m considering using one of these as a malt.¡± I said, matter of factly. A coffee stout, which was what I was nning to make, used roasted malt and dark malt in a mixed proportion, along with some coffee added in at either the cold crash or boiling stage. I personally preferred using cold brew at the cold crash, as I found adding a boiled brew in the boil step made the beer too bitter. I was hoping one of these dungeon erdroots would be my missing dark malt.


    The problem was that I didn¡¯t know how the malt-houses prepared these things for brewing. That was a secret all their own, and my experience on how to malt barley was worthless here. All I knew was that the final step for erdroot was to roast them a bit in a kiln we had here at the brewery.


    At least, that had <i>been</i> a problem before I¡¯d learned of Burnt Umber Erdroot. Because it was an <i>alchemical </i>ingredient, the [Alchemist] who provided our bittering agent had some basic knowledge of how to prepare it. Alchemist ck had sent me this ¡®maybe malted Burnt Umber Erdroot¡¯ to try, and I was eager to take a crack at it.


    Zirce walked over to poke it.


    ¡°So, what will that do to the beer?¡± She asked. ¡°It won¡¯t¡­ make it all ck will it?¡±


    ¡°It may.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Actually, I kind of hope it does. I n to mix it with coffee and pitch it to Copperpot. If it¡¯s the same colour as coffee that may help sell it to the gnomes.¡±


    ¡°Eugh. I don¡¯t think I could drink ck beer.¡± Emma made a face.


    ¡°It¡¯ll look like shite you know.¡± Zirce added.


    ¡°Oooh, like when Uncle Uric had that infection?¡± Emma nodded.


    Zirce giggled. ¡°And every time he went to the bathroom - ¡°


    ¡°Enough!¡± I begged. ¡°I really, really, don¡¯t want to hear the rest of that story. Yes, it¡¯ll probably be a really dark brown, possibly ck. And if tha dwarvenmunity sees it as bein'' apletely separate thing from the Sacred Brew that¡¯s actually helpful. Thank you for yer insight. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m really worried about the rest of this month.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Zirce looked suddenly worried.


    ¡°It¡¯s days are numbered,¡± I said gravely. ¡°All 32 of them.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Emma said in confusion.


    ¡°Never mind¡­ go, clean the kitchen or something. Make sure to sweep around Johnsson and Richter.¡±


    ¡°Can do, boss.¡± The two said in unison and trooped out to the brewpub, buckets in tow.


    I sighed and slumped back in my chair. I had so little time that losing a day of work like this was like a physical blow. I could <i>not</i> imagine several hundred more years of this. I was going to need a vacation soon, or I was going to crumple harder than a suit of te-mail struck by a treant.


    Well, I had a sack of these umber erdroots to y with, so I should probably get thest ingredients I needed. Cold roast coffee was made by steeping coarse grinds with a filter in cold water for twenty-four hours, so I was going to need to ask Joejam to put on Erd¡¯srgest cup of coffee for tomorrow. Out of habit, I activated a quick [sh of Insight] as I made my way out the door.


    Uh¡­ where was John?

 Book 2: Chapter 26: Monster Mash

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 26: Monster Mash</h4>


    It took a whole day.


    A WHOLE DAY before everyone was back in working shape. Even then, the pub was closed courtesy of a note from Bran on the door this morning that simply read:


    Not open.


    Busy.


    Well, that was fine since we¡¯d run through most of our beer again, and I had ns for today.


    Those ns started with four barrels of Cold Brew and a very pleased Joejam of <i>Joejam Cuppa.</i>


    ¡°Thank you for the purchase, Pete.¡± Joejam pulled at his blonde goatee and regarded me through his horn-rimmed sses. ¡°Did you all party so hard that you needed this much coffee?¡±


    ¡°No, no, and besides, only Balin, Bran, and I really drink coffee.¡±


    Joejam raised an eyebrow. ¡°What? That Aquass has beening in early to drink an espresso for <i>years</i>. I think she¡¯s up to a quadruple shot at this point.¡±


    ¡°Oh, <i>really</i>?¡± I said with fascination.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Well, that certainly exins some things about Aqua. We¡¯re all very sorry about thepetition, by the way.¡±


    Joejam waved my apology away. ¡°Nonsense, I wasn¡¯t expecting to win anyways. I¡¯m a dessert chef, and the contest favoured the main course. It drummed up some good business for my shop, and that¡¯s what matters.¡±


    Joejam had made a melted goat cheese and bacon sandwich for his main, with tomato soup on the side. His <i>dessert</i> had been some kind of filo pastry confection with alternatingyers of cream andpotes topped with a vani drizzle.


    ¡°Is that thing you made going to be avable in store?¡± I asked, as Richter and Johnson began carrying the barrels of coffee into the brewery. ¡°It looked delicious.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m calling it my Octamillenial Eight Layer Confection, and I hope that it¡¯ll pull some business away from that damnable new ce that opened up down the road.¡±


    ¡°Oh, rough. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, nothing for you to apologize for. I hope the contest drums up some more dwarven business, though. I feel like I¡¯ve tapped out the local gnomishmunity.¡±


    It looked like everyone was trying to bridge the gnome/dwarf divide recently. I was suddenly struck by an opportunity to fulfill a long-standing need. ¡°Hey, you know, I may have the perfect thing for you.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a snack that should go <i>great</i> with beer, which will help bring those dwarven customers in. We¡¯d be happy to buy a bunch once you start making it, for a reduced price, of course.¡±


    Joejam¡¯s face grew greedy. ¡°Tell me more!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s two variations, one is small and crunchy, and the other isrge and soft. We carry the big one in our shop, you might have tripe dit. It¡¯s a salted snack called a <i>pretzel</i>. I want to make the small one.¡± I began, as we moved indoors to work out the particrs. Sorry Knicknack! Maybe I could give our neighbour the recipe for <i>beer nuts </i>for a retirement present instead.


    As we walked in through the door, Penelope walked past, her tail ramrod straight - a sure sign that she was pissed off about something. Richter had probably told her she couldn''t drink any of the coffee. I moved to give her a wide berth, her love for me was strong, but it had limits. Plus I was pretty sure she was still hungover.


    Joejam'' eyes sparkled. "Is that the famous Penelope of the Thirsty Goat? Hello, Penelope!"


    "Uh, I wouldn''t," I began, but I was toote.


    *BLEEEEEHHH!!!* [Tranted from Prima Dona Goat] "Insolence!!"


    ¡ª


    I saw Joejam out after we finished our discussion. He was only limping a <i>little</i>.


    There weren¡¯t any contracts involved this time, it was all verbal agreements. Pretzels weren''t some <i>great thing</i>, and it was likely that other bakeries would pick them up in no time. Plus, I really liked Joejam, so I''d sold him the recipe and concept for the low price of ''At-Cost'' pretzels for the Goat. I sang a little <i>DA DA DA</i> by Trio as I dreamt of the salty, crispy, German goodness I¡¯d soon be enjoying with my awful beer.


    Then the stench of burning erdroot hit me in the face and I gagged.


    ¡°Ugh! No! Pull it out, pull it out!¡± I shouted.


    ¡°You just told me to leave it in!¡± Emmained. ¡°Make up your mind, boss!¡±


    ¡°No, pull it out! It¡¯s burning!¡±


    ¡°Maybe use more lubricant?¡± Zirce put in; the pairughed heartily. At least Emma pulled the Burnt Umber Erdroots out of the kiln as they did so. The erdroots were well and truly <i>burnt</i>, just like their name.


    I sighed and marked down the time. ¡°Okay, that was a bit too long. Do you see the crunchy stuff on the outside of the skin? That¡¯s melted sugars, and we don¡¯t want that. Let¡¯s try again.¡±


    ¡°Aye aye!¡± The two of them began shoveling umber erdroots into the kiln for our next attempt.


    I considered the scent of the roasting yam-potato-things and frowned. Normally, mashing was fairly simple, and most breweries followed the <i>infusion mash </i>method. The method had three simple stages. A heat, a mashout, and auter. There are lots of fancy mashing tools in the modern era, but all you really needed was a pot, a sieve, and a thermometer to do a proper mash.


    The Thirsty Goat had originally used a wooden barrel as a mash tun with a bup sack as a sieve. They¡¯d done a pathetically short 20 minute mash by stirring the grist with the asional addition of boiling water. I¡¯d recently implemented the ¡®Brew in a Bag¡¯ BIAB method, where the grist was shoved into a loose cotton sack and tossed into the boil kettle instead of the mash tun.


    The bag was stirred vigorously at 65-69 degrees Celsius for an hour. This was the ¡®heat¡¯ stage and was the optimal temperature for activating the enzymes responsible for breaking down the sugars. It was technically called ¡®sharification rest¡¯, but nobody called it that.


    The next step, mashout, involved getting the <i>mash </i>to separate <i>out </i>into nice clear sugary wort. This required raising the temperature of the boil kettle to about 75 C for ten minutes.


    The final step,utering, simply meant filtering the grains. For BIAB that meant pulling the bag out. Except the bag wasn¡¯t perfect and there was usually a bit of grain left in the wort. Not that the dwarves cared, the original bup method was <i>worse</i>. But <i>I</i> cared, so I had auter-tun on the way, and hopefully it would solve that little problem.


    For my witbier, it was a bit moreplicated. The unmalted wheat proteins in witbier had a nasty habit of causing haze, or making ugly clumps if the beer got chilled. This could be solved by performing a <i>step mash</i>, and a quick [sh of Insight] had dredged up everything I¡¯d ever learned about the method. I could lead everyone through it easily enough, but first¡­


    ¡°Ok, take them out.¡± Imanded.


    Zirce and Emma scooped the roasted umber erdroots out, and I cut one open. It had the scent of roasted yams, and was soft and mushy.


    ¡°Okay, this is perfect. Let¡¯s try it with the regr erdroot next. Do it for the same length of time.¡±


    Annie stepped up beside me as I took a bite of the umber erdroot.


    ¡°Soooo, how is your new gnomish beer going?¡± She asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s going.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Ouf, hot!¡±


    ¡°I see you have the brewing station shut down?¡± She said, nonchntly.


    Uh oh, I recognized that tone of voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m settin'' up an experiment.¡± I looked over to the scaffolding, where Johnsson and Richter were chatting andughing with nothing to do but wait. Hrm.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been roasting those erdroots for an <i>hour</i>. We¡¯re running low on our reserves after the party yesterday, so I do <i>really</i> need the equipment running at capacity.¡± Annie said sweetly.


    ¡°Ah¡­ yes. Sorry, sorry, it¡¯s my day to be a sorry sod. But honestly, I think I¡¯ll be ready ta run this in ten minutes.¡±


    Annie shrugged. ¡°Fine, I guess. You¡¯ve given me the ¡®porters and stouts¡¯ talk already, and I¡¯m looking forward to it too. Have you decided on your ratios?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to do four different coffee stouts. For the gnomish wheat stouts, I¡¯m doing a 1:1 wheat and erdroot with 10% roasted umber, then an even mix of roasted erdroot, wheat, and unroasted umber. Finally, one random set of ratios as a hail Mary. I¡¯m also going to do one wheat-free for us, with regr erdroot and 20% roasted umber.¡±


    Annie twirled her beard. ¡°What does marriage have to do with anything? Or is that an Earth thing?¡±


    ¡°An Earth thing. Thest step will be to add one of those barrels of cold brew at tha cold break step.¡±


    Annie considered the barrels stacked up in the corner. ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s definitely not like True Brew, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°Finally, in a couple days I¡¯m going to use [Refine Brew] on it like we do for the Ass-ster. I want to see if using the umber erdroot gives a beneficial effect. I just don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll work without being ¡®unstable¡¯ first.¡± I pulled up the Ability while I chatted.


    <strong>[Refine Brew]</strong> ¨C <i>You are able to refine and stabilise a container of alchemical liquid with a touch. If the brew contains any unstable magical aethers they will be forced into equilibrium. The brew will be more nutritious and have a longer shelf life.</i>


    <i>You can use this Ability once per second.</i>


    ¡°I¡­ Pete, the Lily-Leopard Oil¡¯s effect certainly got us a lot of attention, but I¡¯m not sure I could handle a repeat. What do you think will happen with the umber erdroot?¡± Annie said, her face serious.


    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a straight energy booster, so I¡¯m hoping it mixes with the caffeine in the coffee to be even better.¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°That would do quite nicely. We could get a <i>lot</i> of sales with a wake-up beer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I need to make it first. And how goes convincing the other brewers to let us back into the guild?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got two more that I think I can sway. I have a meeting with one tomorrow, and thest at the end of next week.¡±


    I winced. ¡°That¡¯s going to cut it close.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, let¡¯s hope your brew turns out. You only get one chance.¡±


    I shivered. Damn, I really needed something like that new Ability Bran had told us about. [Loved by Kraft Dinner] or whatever. Maybe I could get Balin to beat me half to death while I desperately stirred the mash.


    ¡ª


    <i>Thirty </i>minutes and a death re from Annieter, and we were ready. Richter and Johnsson had ground the erdroot, wheat, and roasted umber into grist while singing their favourite ¡®Heave Ho¡¯ gristing song.


    It was finally time for the mash. I walked over and emptied a sack of white powder into the grist.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Johnsson asked, peering over.


    ¡°Jeremiah gets his secret ingredient. This is mine.¡± I raised my nose high and sniffed. It was Calcium Carbonate or <i>chalk</i>, and I honestly wasn¡¯t sure I really needed it, but at this point in my brewing career it was a habit. The roasting process for stouts tended to increase the acidity of the malt to mouth puckering levels, and calcium carbonate would help reduce the pH to a more manageable level. However, all the water we used came from a natural aquifer down below the city, and I was pretty sure it was heavy in pH reducing minerals already. Still, I knew from testing that it wasn¡¯t <i>soft</i> water, so I¡¯d decided to err on the side of caution. Chalk it up to experience. Nyuck.


    I pointed to the sack we were using for our BIAB. ¡°Okay Moony, fill the sack almost halfway with ground erdroot, and then fill it the rest of the way with the wheat. Leave a little space at the top for ayer of roasted umber.¡±


    Moony carefully apportioned everything out, then passed it to Richter, who dragged the bag up the steps and tossed it into the gently steaming water of the boil kettle. Johsson began stirring with thergedle while I went to keep a close eye on the thermometer.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to do something different this time everyone. We¡¯re going to do a ¡®step mash¡¯!¡±


    ¡°Gonna need more than that, Pete!¡± Johnsson called from up on the catwalk. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing special, really. Just keep it at 43 ¡ãC for about an hour.¡± I patted the thermometer. ¡°That¡¯s the acid rest, and it¡¯ll help reduce the pH of the mash even more by releasing phytic and ferulic acid. Those acids should improve the vour of the beer and remove some of the burnt taste. Moony, can I get you to shovel the charcoal?¡±


    That was normally John¡¯s job, but he still hadn¡¯t shown his face since thepetition. Johnsson said he wasn¡¯t worried, but it really was quite unlike John.


    ¡°A whole <i>hour</i>?¡± Johnssonined. ¡°That¡¯ll double the time per mash!¡±


    I grinned. ¡°And I¡¯m not even done yet. Then we¡¯ll raise it to 55 degrees for another 20 minutes. That¡¯s the <i>protein rest</i>, and it should remove that awful haze that some of you may have noticed in the witbiers we were drinking with Berry.¡±


    ¡°I did notice that,¡± Emma said. ¡°In between the choruses of e on Emma, don¡¯t be a coward, chug, chug, chug¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you drank it.¡± Zircemented.


    ¡°You¡¯re just jealous I shared a mug with Raspberrysyrup!¡± Emma countered.


    I spoke over the pair as they began arguing. ¡°Anyways, after the protein rest, do the one hour at 69 as per usual. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°So many - ¡° Richter began.


    ¡°About the steps?¡± I added.


    ¡°How do ya know all this?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°I gave Alchemist ck a sack of silver to get his apprentices to run temperature tests for me.¡± That had the benefit of being true. I was actually surprised that the rest temperatures for erdroot were so simr to barley¡¯s.


    Everyone shrugged and went to work. On Erd¡¯s very first batch of stout.


    That I desperately prayed would be sessful.


    Maybe even a little bit to Barck.

 Oktoberfest BACK CATALOG ONLY Stub Announcement and Cover Reveal

    <h4>Oktoberfest BACK CATALOG ONLY Stub Announcement and Cover Reveal</h4>


    An Adventure Brewing: Beers and Beards Book 1 is now up for preorder on Amazon with a release date of October 3rd! The physical book and audiobook by the talented Christian Gillnd will be avable at roughly the same time. It will also be avable on Kindle Unlimited. If you''re excited, feel free to pre-order! Though of course, the greatest currency any author can receive is reviews!


    Amazon requires us to remove the majority of the book off the inte ASAP. Therefore, B&B BOOK 1 wille off RR the first day of Oktoberfest, September 16th, after the chapter is released.


    NONE OF THE CHAPTERS LABELED BOOK 2 WILL COME OFFLINE AT THIS TIME. I WILL STILL BE POSTING AS NORMAL.


    If you''re up to date on the book, stubbing will have no effect on you. If you have someone that still hasn''t read the book but wants to, they''ll need to download or read the book off of RR within the next 10 days. (Or buy the book when it releases!)


    If you''re in any dwarf based fandoms (Yogscast, DRG, DF, Erebor, DND, etc) please consider talking about B&B in them! I''d love to prove that dwarves have as big a ce in popr literature as elves and humans!


    Rock and Stone Brothers! I''ll be drinking Pots o'' Gold every day until release just to calm my nerves.

 Book 2: Chapter 27: Tell All

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 27: Tell All</h4>


    Several hours and four full fermentation tanks of ck stoutter, I was ready to call it a night.


    I cupped my hands to my mouth and called, ¡°Alright everyone, great work! We¡¯ll be back on regr brewing duty tomorrow, so get a good rest.¡±


    Johnsson stretched and popped his back, his single long braided ponytail swaying between his shoulder des. His skin shone under the bright light of the Solstones, slick with sweat and steam. He¡¯d taken his shirt off a while back, and I hadn¡¯t had the heart to tell him to put it back on for hygiene. It could get hot standing over the open boil kettle for hours. ¡°Agh! I can¡¯t believe I originally thought bringing you and Balin on as workers would mean I¡¯d be stirring <i>less</i>,¡± heined.


    Emma and Zirce gave him thirsty nces. Emma muttered under her breath. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re stirring alright.¡± Zirce giggled.


    Moony and Markus nodded at me as they trooped out. Richter decamped next, forcing a promise out of me to meet him at the library for studies tomorrow morning. Johnsson and Emma and Zirce leftst, announcing that they were all headed to the guild beer garden. They invited me, but I declined.


    I basked in the sweet silence. The pub was going to stay closed until tomorrow, so I had an evening to myself. Maybe I could spend it brushing Penelope; we could use some ¡®us¡¯ time. She was probably napping in her bed in the office, so I wandered in that direction.


    Honestly, I could use some ¡®me¡¯ time too. My head was getting as tangled as my heart these days. A jaunt to the beardy parlour or some time in a recreational mine sounded good. Or I could head to the library and read one of the two books that weren¡¯t a history book, academic journal, or magic textbook.


    As I approached the office, I could hear shouting. There was arge ss window overlooking the brewroom, so I ducked around some fermentation tanks to approach from the side.


    I sidled up beside the office door and peeked inside; it was Annie and Aqua. They were arguing over some of the costs I¡¯d incurred with my experimenting. I¡¯d <i>wanted </i>to use my own cash, but Annie had insisted that we keep ''my n¡¯ funds separate from ¡®work¡¯ funds. As a result, we¡¯d earmarked a somewhatrge percentage of the Ass-ster sales for my slush fund.


    Aqua tugged at her blue beard. ¡°Annie, even ignoring cost, there¡¯s no guarantee these new beers will even pan out! Why not just use the witbier or whatever Pete called it and take it slow? Thay should get us a lot of gnomish business on its own. We don¡¯t <i>need </i>the Pots.¡±


    Annie gesticted at a calendar on the wall. ¡°There¡¯s not enough <i>time</i> Aqua, we¡¯ve only got until the end of the month!¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to get into thepetition!!¡±


    ¡°Ohe on, you can¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t want to go to the capital!¡±


    Aqua seemed close to tears. ¡°I DO, but I don¡¯t want to sacrifice the sess we¡¯ve found to do it! All these new tanks and ingredients are emptying the coffers as fast as we can fill them! I just¡­ I don¡¯t understand how you have so much faith! Nobody¡¯s ever made anything like this before, it may be awful! I - I - I - I, Tiara¡¯s Teats, I don¡¯t want to go back to that time, Annie!¡±


    Annie¡¯s face was drawn and haggard. ¡°Aqua, I - ¡°


    I put my head in through the door. ¡°Annie? Aqua?¡±


    The pair turned to face me, and Aqua flushed.


    ¡°Hey Pete,¡± they stammered in unison.


    I sighed. It was time toe clean.


    ¡°Annie, I¡¯m going to tell Aqua.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure, Pete?¡± Annie asked, looking worriedly between the two of us.


    ¡°Yeah. We owe it to her, and I can¡¯t keep asking you to keep it a secret. Come on Aqua, let¡¯s go to Joejam¡¯s and chat.¡±


    I spun on my heel and headed out, with Aqua running after a momentter.


    ¡°Why Joejams? What¡¯s going on??¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to tell you everything.¡±


    Aqua¡¯s red rimmed face brightened. ¡°Wait - you mean - everything!?¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Yeah. You see, I¡¯ve got this mole on my butt that -¡°


    She moaned. ¡°Gods, not <i>everything</i>.¡±


    ¡ª


    <i>Joejam¡¯s </i>was always quiet at this time of the day. Most of the popce was eating dinner or finishing work, so only a few gnomes trickled by us as we sat and nursed our drinks. I wasn¡¯t really in the mood for coffee after dealing with kegs and kegs of it. Instead, I was sipping from a nice cup of Gnomish Breakfast, and Aqua was doing the dwarven ¡®beer in a teacup¡¯ thing.


    Penelope sat contentedly beside us, munching on some unigoat snacks of Joejam¡¯s design. We¡¯d brought her along at thest minute to give her some exercise. All the beer and exquisite food had been plumping her up, and we had zero interest in eating her. On that note¡­ maybe we could have done without the goat snacks.


    *Meeeeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Ah, this is delicious. I shall deign to give my pardon to the short, insolent one.¡±


    I absentmindedly rubbed her neck and she leaned over for horn scritchies.


    *Maaaaaaaa¡­* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Yes, right there, dwarfservant!¡±


    Aqua took a sip of her beer and smacked her lips with an *aaaah*. ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s time to talk?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°About everything.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°<i>Everything</i> is a big word.¡±


    I smirked. ¡°I think what I have to say qualifies as big.¡±


    Aqua held out her hands like a fisherman showing off the fish that got away. ¡°Like, giant big, building big, city big?¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ I¡¯m thinking like¡­ <i>Pinnacle</i> big.¡± I made a gesture indicating the size of the heavenly mountain.


    Aqua scoffed. ¡°Hah! Come on Pete, just because you believe it -¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s true, yes, yes, I know. To be clear though, I want to know what¡¯s going on with your dad, Tom. I still never see him around, and going through that audit made it very clear that I <i>am</i> still paying him. So, trade?¡±


    Aqua¡¯s eyes grew distant and her lips drew to a line. ¡°No, you¡¯re right, there¡¯s no reason you shouldn¡¯t know at this point. Everyone¡¯s been keeping it a secret to¡­ well to protect dad, I guess, and me too.¡±


    ¡°Alright then. I¡¯d be happy to start,¡± I said.


    Aqua brushed her hand across her forehead. ¡°Phew! Good! I really didn¡¯t want to go first.¡±


    I sat back nonchntly and began. ¡°Okay, here¡¯s the deal. I¡¯m a human from another world, where I was a master brewer and vintner. I died, and my soul was brought here by Barck to be his Chosen Catalyst for change in the world. I¡¯ve been tasked by him to revolutionize the brewing industry of the dwarves, and I¡¯ve made it my personal mission to save beer. The True Brew is only one of a million different ways to brew, and I¡¯m going to ensure that all the races around the world get to try the greatness that is a craft beer. I have a quest to make a million dwarves drink my brews, and I think¡­ yes, I think I¡¯m going to aim to eventually put Thirsty Goat beer in every city on Erd. There are several other ¡®Chosen Catalysts¡¯ of the Gods out there right now, all trying to change the world in their own way.¡±


    Aqua blinked, then she chuckled. ¡°Okay, I need to know how you got that past [Truespeech], that¡¯s a neat trick. Do you have a lying [Ability]?¡±


    I did, [White Lie], but nobody needed to know that. ¡°I was telling the truth, Aqua. My name was Peter Phillips, and I was from a country called Canada on a world called Earth. We had no magic, and no Gods, and the only race was humans. I reincarnated in the body of Peter Samson here on Erd when he died in the mine. I think that makes me some kind of undead? Urrrrrr Braaaiiiinnnss!!!¡± I held my arms up and lurched across the table at her.


    Aqua¡¯s face went fromughing, to incredulity, to outright horror.


    ¡°You¡¯re mad!¡± She said in a fearful whisper. ¡°There¡¯s no way that¡¯s true.¡±


    I sipped tea. ¡°It is. I spoke with Barck personally.¡±


    Aqua brought her beer up to her lips with a shaking hand and stared into the cup. Then she took a sip and choked.


    I stood up and patted her back with worry. ¡°It¡¯s a lot to take in.¡±


    ¡°A LOT TO TAKE IN!?¡± She waved me back to my seat. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine. I¡­ I¡­¡±


    Then she began tough.


    ¡°Gods, it¡¯s ridiculous! I¡¯ve been wondering what on Erd it could be, and it wasn¡¯t even on Erd in the first ce! Hah! Not even in my wildest dreams!¡± Her peals ofughter rose until she was reduced to a coughing fit. ¡°*Cough* *Cough* A-hah! It exins so much. And I was wondering what could make Annie jump head first down a dive like that! I figured it would take the Gods themselves toe between us, and it turns out that it did!¡±


    I pulled my beard ufortably. ¡°I¡­ uh, I really didn¡¯t intend toe between the two of you.¡±


    She waved me away and wiped at the edges of her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s fine. With Balin in the picture our rosy days as sisters were numbered anyway. I¡¯m just d that it was something, as you said, <i>so big.</i>¡±


    It was my turn to choke. ¡°Was that a reference to Balin¡¯s -¡±


    ¡°You have a <i>dirty mind</i>,¡± Aqua snapped. ¡°I¡¯m having emotions here, don¡¯t ruin it!¡±


    Penelope shuffled closer to my shins andid her head on my steel-shod boot.


    *Meeeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I always knew you were out of this world.¡¯


    I gave her scritchies. ¡°Aww, thanks Penelope.¡±


    "Balin and Annie already know all this? Anyone else?" Aqua asked after a moment.


    "<i>Ack-shually</i>, Balin and Annie only really know the reincarnated bit. You''re the first I''ve outright told about being Chosen. Balin and Annie are a bit fuzzy on the exact details of that aspect."


    "Really!? Why?"


    "I didn''t think Annie needed the stress of having a God''s beer champion in her brewery. I was worried it''d make her¡­" I trailed off, looking for the right words.


    "Second guess herself? Yeah, Annie might do that¡­ but, I really don''t want to have secrets between us again, Pete. You should tell her."


    "Aye¡­ and I should really fill Balin in too."


    I was still keeping thepetition and the Great Game under wraps, though. That was an added level of stress that nobody needed right now. Besides, the only other Chosen Catalyst around was on <i>our</i> side.


    Then Aqua groaned. ¡°Gods, I owe Richter ten gold!¡±


    I paused. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He bet that you were some kind of special reincarnated soul, or that the Gods had done something to you. He¡¯s reading a bunch of history books with Bran to see if there''s any precedence.¡±


    ¡°He WHAT!?¡±


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not exactly subtle, Pete. I just thought you were like Annie, you know, a bit obsessed with brewing and cracked in the spirit.¡±


    ¡°Now, that¡¯s not nice.¡±


    ¡°You did that weird dance at Berry¡¯sst concert!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called <i>moonwalking</i>,<i></i>and it¡¯s not my fault that it¡¯s so hard to do with these short stubby legs!¡±


    ¡°What does the <i>moon</i> have to do with -¡± She stopped mid sentence and her eyes grew wide. ¡°BERRY! You knew her songs! SHE KNOWS YOUR HOMETOWN! She¡¯s like <i>YOU!?</i>¡±


    I nodded smugly.


    Aqua sat back in her chain with a whoof. ¡°And the reason that Annie¡¯s been so sure about your brews is because they aren¡¯t new, you¡¯ve made them before.¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡±


    ¡°How¡­ how many different brews do you know? Wait, no, what was your world like!¡±


    We spent the next few hours talking about my previous life. Aqua was fascinated to hear about our technology, our culture, our politics, et cetera. I could probably talk for a whole day and she wouldn¡¯t get bored of it.


    Although she was most interested in the different types of music.


    ¡°If I ask, do you think Berry would be willing to sing some of that ¡®country¡¯ music?¡± She asked with excitement.


    I shook my head. ¡°I give it 50/50 she says yes or tries to off both of us to ensure nobody on Erd knows it exists.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story, fraught with unimaginable, unspeakable horrors, like Toby Keith and Jason Aldean.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand... Oh, Gods, no, I do understand. You¡¯re making <i>jokes</i>. <i>References</i>. That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been doing all this time! I thought¡­¡± Aqua paused, then patted me on the arm. ¡°You do you. We all think you¡¯re great.¡±


    ¡°Uh, what did you used to think?¡±


    Aqua stood and brushed off her silver chain-link bodice. ¡°We should go meet my dad now.¡±


    ¡°What <i>did </i>you think?¡±


    Aqua ignored me and walked out of the shop, humming Raspberry Syrup¡¯s cover of Avril Lavigne¡¯s hit single that she¡¯d titled ¡°Miner Boy¡±.


    I hopped up and followed after, Penelope bleating in pursuit.


    ¡°WHAT DID YOU THINK??¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 28: Tom

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 28: Tom</h4>


    We stood outside of a nondescript single level dwelling on a sidestreet. Aqua and I had walked here in silence, broken only by the asional querulous bleat from Penelope. Aqua seemed to have a lot on her mind, which was understandable.


    Now that we were here, and the moment was upon us, I really did want to have some idea of what was going on before walking into the lion¡¯s den.


    ¡°Ahem. Soooo¡­. yer dad.¡±


    Aqua let out her breath with a *whoosh*. ¡°Yeah, dad. Tom. Tom Bluebeard. We¡¯re from a long line of Bluebeards, though most live spread out in the far reaches of Crack. We¡¯re the only two in Minnova as far as I know. My father moved to the city when he was young in order to attend the local branch of Archis Academy.¡±


    ¡°A relocation for education, eh? That¡¯s just like home.¡±


    ¡°He met Jeremiah there and the two of them became good friends. They took almost all their sses together, studied together, worked out together, did varsity hitball together. They met my mum and Annie¡¯s mum there too. They were all from small ns except for Jeremiah. So when Jeremiah left to take over the Goldstone family brewery, everybody went with him.¡±


    ¡°Nobody wanted ta stay and be a mage?¡±


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°No. It¡¯s a <i>lot</i> of work. You have to really want it Pete. Most just stay long enough to say they were students. It¡¯s prestigious.¡±


    ¡°Berry learned it fast enough.¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°Berry¡­ is doing something I¡¯ve never heard of.¡± Aqua¡¯s mouth drew to a line. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s just easy, or she¡¯s just that good.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s Archis¡¯s Chosen Catalyst. She may have cheats.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. I feel like Archis would want her to figure it out on her own. He <i>is</i> the God of Knowledge.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to be that. He could have given her a better mind, a better memory, or simply fed her the basics. She <i>says</i> he didn¡¯t give her much, but that may not be necessarily true. She may not even know he did it, though that seems more on brand for <i>Barck</i>.¡±


    We both stood in silence and looked at the door again.


    I raised my bushy eyebrows questioningly and coughed.


    Aqua started. ¡°Where was I?¡±


    ¡°Everyone went to tha Goldstones.¡±


    ¡°Right. Joining up with one of the big ns, even as a worker, is a big deal you know. Back in the day, the Goldstones were pretty influential. The n patriarch, te Goldstone, was Jeremiah''s father, and he ran the Goldstone Brewery with his extended family. Jeremiah was his heir, and was being groomed to take over the n. Mom was really proud of dad; he became Jeremiah¡¯s head assistant."


    Nowadays, the Goldstonepound was almostpletely empty. The only people living there were John, Johnsson, Jeremiah, and Annie. That didn¡¯t bode well for this story.


    Aqua continued. "Jeremiah and Lazuli, that¡¯s Annie¡¯s mom, and my parents got married a few yearster. I was born right around the same time as Annie, and we grew up like sisters at the brewery. Watching everyone brew every day was like watching the glorious history of the dwarves unfold in front of our eyes.¡±


    ¡°What happened? And do you want to talk about it inside?¡± I nced behind us. We weren¡¯t on a busy street by any means, but there was enough for an audience.


    Tears sprang to Aqua¡¯s eyes and she wiped them away. ¡°No. Mom doesn¡¯t like hearing this story. She can¡¯t bear to remember it. That''s why she neveres around the brewery. It happened fairly recently, about fifty years ago. te had brought everyone on a beer delivery to the mines. He did it once a year, to make sure we all learned the route. And on that day, a monster wave lead by an Elite <i>horrorgourd </i>emerged from Greentree. and attacked the defensive lines.¡±


    I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. I could see where this was going. ¡°A monster wave¡­ is that like a monster stampede? I know there were worries about one.¡±


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°A monster stampede is when nearly the entire dungeon empties out. A wave is when a single powerful monster or two get chased out of their territory, or decide to try their luck outside the dungeon. They''re not umon. That¡¯s why there¡¯s all those defenses outside of Greentree.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Horrorgourds eat the spirits of their victims. They drain you dry until you¡¯re nothing but a mindless spark. Then they slowly digests your spirit, and if given enough time you are lost to the Nether, never to be reborn. They''re the most dreaded monsters of Greentree, and usually stay deep within the Nightmare Tangle. Any time one shows up the Guild puts a massive bounty on it.¡±


    I shivered. By Midna¡¯s Mangy Mullet, no wonder it was called a horror. To have your soul annihted was the single most dreaded event on Erd, one even the Gods didn''t do lightly. And here was a monster that just¡­ ate your <i>soul</i>!?


    I licked my dry lips. ¡°Did¡­ did it attack the caravan?¡±


    Aqua nodded. ¡°It was apanied by a small army of pitchervores and mushfolk.The pitchervores melted the defensive walls, and while the adventurers were busy holding back the mushfolk, the horrorgourd and its minions walked right past. It happened so fast¡­ It fell upon us like a cave in.¡± She shivered.


    ¡°Hold on, ¡®us¡¯, you were <i>there</i>!?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Me and Annie. Almost <i>everyone</i>. Jeremiah had brought the entire n except for John and Johnsson, and Richter and his da. I still see it in my nightmares - an enormous pulpy orange body thrice the size of a wagon, held aloft by writhing green tendrils in a mockery of limbs. Eyes that burned with a yellow fire and that ck, sucking, void of a mouth.¡± She shivered.


    I put my hand on her back. A few curious passersby were giving us ¡®the stare¡¯. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ you can skip this part if you want.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No. I¡¯m proud of what happened. What they all did. It¡¯s just hard to talk about. Jeremiah grabbed me and Annie and shoved us into a spare barrel. Then he stashed us under the cart. ¡®Stay here, you¡¯ll be safe.¡¯ He said. Dad and Lazuli charged the horrorgourd. They just needed to buy time, see? Until the adventurers coulde to our rescue. They may not have been the best, but they were dwarves trained at Archis Academy; they could fight better than most. The rest of the Goldstones formed a line against the smaller monsters.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see the rest. I just remember the screaming, and the noises. The shuddering ground. The crunching and tearing of flesh, and the sound of good dwarven steel slicing through tubers. Then there was the thump of magic and warcries followed by a moment of silence. I can remember the gut churning terror as the barrel opened. But it was Jeremiah, more exhausted than I¡¯d ever seen him before.¡±


    ¡°The horrorgourd?¡±


    ¡°Dead. The adventurers dealt with the rest of the wave then came and finished it off. They tell me dad was a hero, and fought like a [Berzerker], same with Lazuli. If not for us, the horrorgourd would have hit the other travelers like a pick through limestone. The Goldstone n stood till the end, sacrificing themselves to safeguard one small barrel under a cart.¡± Tears flowed openly from Aqua¡¯s eyes now, streaming down her beard.


    ¡°And Lazuli and Tom?¡±


    ¡°The horrorgourd sucked Lazuli¡¯s spirit outpletely. She was left as a spiritless spark. I heard¡­ I heard Jeremiah sent her body to its final rest. Dad suffered serious damage to his spirit, and mom lost her leg to a pitchervore¡¯s acid. The rest of the Goldstone n was dead, to the dwarf. One of Minnova¡¯s biggest ns, destroyed in a few minutes.¡±


    Dear Gods! Poor Aqua, poor Annie. Poor Jeremiah! No wonder he was such an emotional heavyweight. He¡¯d suffered in ways I couldn''t imagine.


    The Canadian in me had to ask. "Did the adventurers or city take any responsibility for the damage? Did you get any mary support, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Aye. They kept Jeremiah afloat until he had the brewery running again, and they provided this home for us and a prosthetic for mom. They got us a [Hypnotist] for dad, but the damage was far too great.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t help any more than that!?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need pity. We¡¯re Bluebeards!¡± She said, as though that exined everything. Knowing dwarves¡­ I guess it kind of did.


    ¡°But why keep it a secret?¡±


    ¡°Habit, I guess. A lot of people consider those with a crippled spirit to be cursed, or damned by the Gods. An unclean thing that should be sent to reincarnate and live properly. We keep it quiet.¡±


    ¡°Ouf.¡± I thought back to how a lot of the miners had avoided me initially in the mine; when they¡¯d thought my amnesia was due to a damaged spirit. I¡¯d thought it was because I wasn¡¯t ¡®dwarfy¡¯ enough, but now it looked like there was more to it.


    Aqua squared her shoulders. ¡°Well, now that I¡¯ve told you everything. Let¡¯s head inside. Just a warning though, mom¡¯s a [Saint].¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s <i>that </i>nice, eh? Why warn me?¡±


    ¡°No, she¡¯s a [<i>Saint</i>].¡±


    ¡°Oh. Ya''know, here¡¯s an example of where that Otherworlder thing can cause wonderful little misunderstandings¡­ owch!!¡± I jumped as a set of wicked teeth nipped at my ankle.


    *Meeheeee!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Is this cad making you cry, youngdy?¡±


    ¡ª


    We stood in an office much like the one at the Thirsty Goat. Arge wooden desk covered in paper took up one side of the room, shelves were filled with beer paraphernalia like drinking horns and small kegs, and a small couch shoved against one wall was clearly meant for all-nighters.


    A blue haired and bearded dwarf was seated at the desk, merrily writing away on a document.


    He looked a lot like Aqua, with the same aquiline profile. His hair was an identical shade of blue, though it was in a more traditional knotted stylepared to Aqua¡¯s current ponytail.


    Aqua stood beside me, watching her father work. He hadn¡¯t turned around or seemed to notice us when we¡¯d entered. I leaned in to see what he was working on.


    The page was a mess, and he was scribbling what looked like random lines and squiggles.


    Aqua coughed and he looked up, then smiled.


    ¡°Aqua!¡± He said. His ent was the cultured style I¡¯de to associate with Archis Academy graduates, but it was oddly slurred, and he seemed to need a moment to think on each word. ¡°How¡­ is¡­ little girl?¡±


    Aqua smiled. ¡°Hi daddy. I brought a friend home to y.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ good. Daddy¡­ working. I¡¯ll y ¡­ter.¡± He returned to his paper, finishing with a jerky flourish before starting on a new nk page.


    Aqua led me from the room. ¡°We let him continue on as though he was still working at the Goat. He¡¯s stuck in that time, you see. He still thinks I¡¯m a child, and I don¡¯t think he even realizes that all the staff at the Thirsty Goat are new. A lot of the time we send him on errands to clients or suppliers who know and understand him, or give him ¡®paperwork¡¯ to do at home. It helps center him and keep him lucid. Annie still pays us because¡­ well, because. And he <i>does</i> do the work you know. A lot of those errands are real.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Aqua.¡± Well, the mystery of Tom had turned out a lot heavier than I ever could have imagined. Be careful what you wish for¡­


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°Dad would do it again in a heartbeat. We¡¯re <i>proud</i> of his sacrifice. He¡¯s a <i>hero</i>.¡±


    She led me through the small dwelling to a set of stairs that led down into the stone.


    ¡°Mom¡¯s making bimbleberry scones tonight. She¡¯ll be a bit mad that I brought a friend without warning, but it should be fine.¡±


    As it turned out, the Bimbleberry Scones were delicious. And Cithy Bluebeard would be a [Saint] in <i>any</i> world. Especially since she didn¡¯t kick us out after Penelope crapped on her carpet.

 Book 2: Chapter 29: Sparge is a funny word.

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 29: Sparge is a funny word.</h4>


    I sipped from my fresh mug of coffee. The scent of beans was like heaven this early in the morning, and I luxuriated in the sweet taste of the cream. Joejam had delivered me a coffee first thing. We¡¯d chatted about his attempts at making pretzels, munched on sticky sweet buns, and generally shot the shit about life and business. He¡¯d left a few minutes ago so I could get to work.


    A set of design blueprints sat in front of me. They were for theuter tun that I''d been designing, and there were a few details that I just couldn¡¯t get right. The [Tinkers] had sent myst ns back with a bunch of red underlines and questions I couldn¡¯t answer. I knew a lot about howuter tuns and mash tuns worked, but I wasn¡¯t exactly a mechanic back on earth; I was working off of memory and hands on experience. Additionally, I still had a tendency to overestimate or underestimate the technology levels here.


    They were weirdly advanced in some areas or behind in others. I was beginning to suspect that it was due to past Godly Chosen meddling. Like, magical artifice was fairly advanced, with artificial limbs and mining drills and magical fridges and stoves and whatnot. But cksmithing was still somewhat primitive. The results were always functional and extremely well-made, but it wasn¡¯t as though they were making nano-edged weapons or using fancy power tools like you¡¯d see on youtube. It was all hammers, bellow forges, and sweaty grunting. They could do some neat enchantments, though, and they knew a heck of a lot about metallurgy.


    Thankfully I had a resident expert here to help. Annie leafed through the designs and made appreciative noises mixed with the asional *tut-tut*. Her first experience in beergineering had ended in catastrophe, but she''d learned a lot to get to that point. Plus, any good businessman knew that failure was the most valuable of teachers.


    I really wanted auter <i>and</i> mash tun, but we only really had space for one of the two. I had decided on auter tun, since mash tuns only really helped with efficiency and consistency of the mash, and I cared more about the gunk that kept ending up in the beer.


    Auter tun was designed to properly separate the mash from the wort. It was arge pot with a series of filters on the bottom, a spinning bar of vertical knives, and a rotating sprayer or ¡®sparge¡¯ on the top. The knives stirred the mash to let the wort flow freely, the sparge ensured all the sugars were properly washed out, and the filters meant I''d never have to deal with a mouthful of mushy erdroot in my beer ever again.


    I loved sparges. They were the second funniest word after moist.


    ¡°Ahem. You need to go down to the thousandths for your tolerances here.¡± Annie pointed to the pipes that connected the pump, sparge, and wort return.


    I nced back down. ¡°They can do it <i>that</i> precisely!?¡± I asked in shock.


    ¡°Well, not by hand, but their machining golems can do it even better than that.¡±


    See!? Machining golems capable of working as precisely as any machinist back on Earth! Even after two years I was still woefullycking in Erdly experience.


    ¡°Yaknow, I still haven¡¯t seen any golem carriages yet. Do they exist?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Why bother? That¡¯s a lot of expense in magic stones and artifice when a pair of unigoats will do just as well. And be fluffier too.¡±


    ¡°Uh. Speed? Long distances? Fightin¡¯ crime?¡±


    Annie choked. ¡°Fighting crime?¡±


    ¡°Aye! Like a carriage that turns into a guard! Golems in disguise and all that!¡±


    ¡°No. Now, ording to this scrawl in the bottom left corner the [Tinkers] want to know if there are any material limitations. I took the liberty of rmending some specific alloys that are resistant to corrosion and rust.¡±


    Ibed my beard. ¡°I just assumed it would all be stainless steel.¡±


    Annie shook her head. ¡°No, given the expense we may as well use something better. I rmended that the inner casing be made of soapsteel.¡±


    I quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Soapsteel?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an alloy made from the metallic skull of the Steelhead Stonefish. It¡¯s a monster that lives in Deepcore Dungeon in Kinshasa. It¡¯s simr to stainless, but it also repels grease. It should be easier to clean.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. The crew will be happy about that. I was worried the grate at the bottom would be a pain to clean.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it still will. Johnsson will hate you for it.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­. Anything else?¡±


    Annie circled the magic pump at the bottom of the tun. ¡°Yes. I know you love all things magical, but a magic stone for pumping the water to this ¡®sparge¡¯ sprayer is unnecessary. Same for the wort return to the kettle. A manual pump would work just as well.¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ the enchanted one will be easier? I already made tha knife stirrer dwarf-powered.¡±


    ¡°Easier on who? Pete, Johnsson''s strength is over twenty. He can handle it.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Johnsson goin¡¯ to hate <i>now</i>?¡±


    ¡°Johnsson <i>likes</i> building up a sweat.¡±


    ¡°Emma and Zirce like it when he builds up a sweat too.¡±


    We shared augh at that.


    I took another sip of my coffee and sighed. The air was somehow clearer after my heart to heart with Aqua the other day. It was like a pall over the entire office that I hadn¡¯t realized was there until it had lifted.


    Things were finally going to n too. If we sent these designs back by the end of today, theuter tuns would beplete well before the brewing contest. The tanks of stout hadn¡¯t shown any signs of a bad batch. We were on a roll, and nothing could possibly -


    ¡°EMERGENCY!!!!¡± Aqua screamed as she burst through the doors. My atomized spit-take arced right into her face and she screamed louder. "AHHHHHHHHH!!!"


    ¡°Ahhh! Aqua!¡± I grabbed a fresh towel from a nearby cleaning cart and passed it to her. She was swearing up a storm, but buried her face in the towel and scrubbed furiously. Then she wrung out her blue beard all over the floor.


    ¡°Pete! Annie! You won¡¯t believe it!¡±


    Annie shrugged. ¡°I mean¡­ I might? I¡¯ve seen a lot of unbelievable things these past couple years.¡±


    ¡°I got a Blessing!!!¡± She dered in wonder. ¡°From Yearn! I can be Titled!!!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s pretty believable, actually.¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°Congrattions!!!¡± Annie jumped up from her seat.


    ¡°I can''t believe it!!¡± Aqua spun around with joy, and drops of coffee sttered off her beard and around the office. Somended on the design ns; I almost wept. Aqua continued shouting for joy, unfazed. ¡°I can get an elfin TITLE!!! And I¡¯m not even eighty-eight years old yet!!¡±


    Annie swept Aqua up in a hug and the two of them spun around screeching while I desperately dried the papers and mopped the floor.


    ¡°What was it for?¡± Annie asked when they separated.


    ¡°It¡¯s the strangest thing.¡± Aqua grinned. ¡°I was thinking about what we talked about, Pete, when I suddenly got a notification. It said: ¡®for opening my heart to a dear friend and epting one of their deepest, darkest, secrets in return, Yearn has noticed me.¡¯¡±


    Annie frowned. ¡°That was it? I¡¯ve never heard of someone getting Titled for that. And <i>I</i> never got a notification like that when Pete told me about his reincarnation thing.¡±


    I coughed and spoke up. ¡°I may still have a few details to tell you. But yeah, ording to Barck, bein¡¯ around me means that the Gods are more likely to give you a Blessin¡¯, so I¡¯m actually surprised it took this long.¡±


    The two stared at me for a long moment.


    ¡°You never told me <i>that, </i>either!¡± Annie used.


    ¡°Or me!¡± Aqua harrumphed.


    ¡°I forgot.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Does it work for anyone? We could charge gold to spend time with you!¡± Annie said, her eyes turning into gold pieces.


    Aqua choked. ¡°That¡¯s a terrible n, Annie. We could get in so much trouble.¡±


    ¡°Gold is gold!¡±


    ¡°On that note, how have YOU not gotten a second Blessing yet Annie?¡± I asked.


    Aqua and I both turned to regard her and she blushed. ¡°I uh¡­ I¡¯ve gotten a few actually. Mostly from Tiara and Aaron for business stuff and taking over the brewery. But I turned them down.¡±


    Aqua and I wore twin stares of disbelief.


    ¡°I really wanted a second Blessing from Barck! I want¡­¡± Annie stumbled over her words and took a moment to recenter. ¡°You see, after the idents, and everything else, I really want [Greater Luck]. The only way to get it is to be twice Blessed by Barck. I was thinking of a [Saint] or an [Inventor].¡±


    I hmm¡¯d. ¡°[Inventor] sounds like it would suit ya.¡±


    "You don''t want to go the [Alchemist] to [Brewer] route?" Aqua asked.


    Annie frowned. ¡°Not after everything the guild did to us the past few years. I want to see if there''s a brewing path for the [Inventor] Specializations. Nobody¡¯s ever checked.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a great idea!¡± Aqua said brightly. ¡°And [Inventor] suits you more than a boring old [Brewer] Annie. Who¡¯d ever want to be something so mundane?¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± I eximed.


    ¡°You¡¯re an [Otherworldly Brewer], Pete. It doesn¡¯t count.¡± Annie said offhandedly. ¡°So what are you going to pick Aqua? Did you already ept the Blessing? Not everyone likes getting Yearn¡¯s Blessing.¡±


    ¡°I dunno. I kind of like Yearn. She gets a bad rap because she¡¯s the Goddess of Nether, but she¡¯s also the Goddess of Love you know.¡± Aqua pouted.


    ¡°What¡¯re yer options?¡± I asked.


    Aqua considered for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m going to ignore the Nether Titles. Those are [nk] and [Silencer]. [nk] is banned, so it¡¯s straight out.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know Aqua, [Silencer] sounds nice. I could really get behind a Title that finally got some peace and quiet around here.¡± Annie jabbed Aqua.


    Aqua punched back. ¡°Shaddup, Annie.¡±


    ¡°Be a [Silencer] and <i>make</i> me!¡±


    ¡°[Silencer] seems self evident. You¡¯re already blessed by Midna, who covers Spirit and Communication, so [Silencer] must be Nether and Communication? And it¡¯s¡­ an anti-Blessing for Communication.¡±


    Both of the dwarfesses nodded in unison, and I was momentarily struck by how simr they were in their small mannerisms. Sisters indeed.


    I continued. ¡°And [nk] would be Nether and Spirit. Spirit is abination of your mind and soul. What would that even look like¡­¡± I mused on it. The only other banned Title I had experience with was Tim¡¯s [Swindler] and that had been bad enough! What would a Title that gave power over the soul or mind directly be like? I shivered involuntarily.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as you¡¯re thinking, Pete.¡± Annie pulled me from my dark thoughts. ¡°A [nk] gets an upgraded [Nothingness]; they¡¯re better than others at removing their existence from perception. As they Specialize, they <i>can </i>get the power to suppress or even manipte the spirits of the especially weak minded. That¡¯s incredibly rare though.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t stop them from being banned as a result.¡± Aqua nodded, and her voice grew pensive. ¡°But, honestly, I¡¯m focused on the rtionship Titles. There¡¯s [Counselor] and¡­ [Hypnotist].¡±


    Annie sucked in her breath. ¡°Oh, Aqua.¡±


    Aqua clenched her fists. ¡°I¡¯d be able to help other people who¡¯ve lost their memories or taken spirit damage. Maybe I¡¯ll even be able to help my dad one day!¡±


    ¡°Would you be leaving the Goat? To do it full time?¡± I asked.


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°No! No, there¡¯s too much going on right now. You lot need me. I¡¯ll do what that big lug Rumbob does! He¡¯s a Titled [Counselor] but does all his work in a tavern as a [Tavernic Counselor]. Maybe I¡¯ll be a [Tavernic Hypnotist!].¡±


    I snickered. ¡°Or since we own a pub, maybe it would be a [Pubic -¡°


    ¡°I think I need some time alone with Aqua, Pete.¡± Annie suddenly grabbed me by the shoulder and escorted me out of the office. ¡°Go¡­ check your stouts or something.¡±


    She mmed the office door behind me and I was left in the brewroom, bereft.


    Kirk looked over from where he was cleaning the rafters. ¡°What¡¯s up bossman?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ you?¡±


    ¡°Haw, Haw.¡± He gave a wry chuckle and returned to work.


    I went to check the stouts.


    Again.


    <i>Sigh.</i>

 Book 2: Chapter 30: Quests and Queries

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 30: Quests and Queries</h4>


    Five dayster I stood in an enormous warehouse on the northern side of Minnova. Everything was still going to n. The [Tinkers] had epted our designs, and theuter tun was due at the end of the week. The stouts were merrily bubbling away and we¡¯d had zero bad batch scares. Bran was over the moon with the news that Opal¡¯s parents were willing to meet with him. Balin had brought back some more dungeon materials, none of them useful, and Annie had <i>almost</i> managed to convince an additional Master Brewer to our side.


    A buzz of activity unfolded before my eyes as various gnomes of every shape and hair colour ran to and fro assembling fermentation tanks, moving boxes, checking equipment, and tightening screws. I had a meeting with Copperpot here in a few minutes, and I¡¯de a bit early to ¡®inspect¡¯.


    My inspection had revealed that Copperpot was taking this seriously. All the equipment was of tip-top quality, and it shone with that inner light that could only be found in expensive new things. He also had <i>two</i> boil kettle setups rather than one, with spacesid out foruter tuns when they finished. He also had over 30 fermentation tanks. I <i>wanted</i> this facility.


    While I twiddled my thumbs waiting, I gave my ongoing quests a quick check.


    <strong>Quest: Guildsman</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Get into the Brewers Guild! Do you have what it takes to get enough members on your side?</i><i></i>


    <i>Members Persuaded: 4/16 Dwarves</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Thick Skin]</i>


    <strong>Inactive Quest: All¡¯s Fair in Love and War 1/7</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve discovered your first other Chosen, now sabotage them!</i><i></i>


    <i>Chosen Sabotaged: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Karmic Reversal + 1]</i>


    <strong>Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 1,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i>Dwarves Influenced: 370,325/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]</i>


    <strong>Quest: Gnomebody to Love Pete</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Own the first Gnomish Brewery!</i><i></i>


    <i>Completed: 0/1 Breweries</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Friend: Gnomes]</i>


    <strong>Quest: More Brews Part 1/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>You¡¯vepleted your first new beer. More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i> Invent eight new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i> Drinks Invented: 4/8</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Strength.</i>


    <i>More Brews</i> bugged me. Why hadn¡¯t pruno counted as a new drink? Why had ginger-ale not counted as a beer for my initial New Brew quest, but <i>did </i>for the More Brews quest? Was it because <i>I</i> counted ginger ale as a ¡®drink¡¯ but not pruno? The answer was probably <i>intent</i>, ording to my conversation with Barck.


    I''d tried making c but it had failed to activate the quest. My hindbrain apparently didn¡¯t consider it a real drink. Also, my dwarven tongue found the taste <i>vile</i>. So had Beatbox, so a gnomish audience was out. Maybe I could foist it and the apanying diabetes epidemic on the humannds.


    Anyways, the drop in quest frequency was just another indication that I was rapidly outgrowing Minnova. I hadn¡¯t gotten a single new quest from Barck besides Love and War, and even Tiara¡¯s business quests had begun to drop off. The quests were my biggest ¡®cheat¡¯ in this world, and I really needed to start farming them.


    ¡°Ah, Pete! You¡¯re here. Good. How is it?¡±


    Copperpot was approaching with his beanie already up and spinning. It was probably a cooling function given that the boil-kettle testing was making it damn hot in here.


    ¡°Sorry, I arrived early and took a look around. It¡¯s great! Honestly, I¡¯m a bit jealous!¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s just the inventor in you talking. The charm of a millenia old facility cannot be matched by any amount of chrome, no matter how shiny.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s <i>really </i>shiny, though.¡±


    ¡°Not as shiny as all the gold we¡¯ll be making with it!¡±


    We both rubbed our hands with glee at the thought of all that gold.


    ¡°But honestly, any concerns?¡± Copperpot asked.


    ¡°I noticed a distinctck of ductwork. Since yer essentially rippin¡¯ this ce apart and building from scratch, you really need an air purification system.¡±


    Copperpot snapped his fingers and a familiar face popped up beside him. Lillyweather gave me a bashful smile and I returned it. The skip had returned to her step, and a quick nce down revealed that she now had full control over her enchanted prosthetic leg.


    ¡°Lillyweather, please take a note that we need improved air cirction in here. I¡¯d like what they¡¯re using at the universitybs,¡± Copperpot dictated. Lillyweather nodded and scribbled furiously on a notepad.


    I held up a finger. ¡°I know about Archis Academy, but what¡¯s tha university? You mentioned it thest time we met and I meant to ask.¡±


    Copperpot looked far off into an imaginary distance and smiled, like a gnome remembering a fond memory. ¡°It¡¯s simply the scientific research wing of Archis Academy. Those who lose interest in magic and no longer want to pursue it, but are still interested in learning go there.¡±


    ¡°Doc Opal went too, right?¡±


    ¡°Most of those with medical or research Titles do.¡± Copperpot nodded. "Back to business, are thoseuter tuns of yours about done?¡±


    It was my turn to nod. ¡°Aye. They should be finished by the end of tha week.¡±


    Copperpot pped his gloves together. ¡°Good good. Now, let me introduce you to the future first gnomish brewingpany!¡±


    Copperpot took me in amongst his workers, introducing me to each in turn. There were way too many names, way too fast. I already had so many names to remember that Copperpot¡¯s team flew right over my helmet.


    When we were done, Copperpot took me back outside to talk. The section of Minnova we were in was a major shipping center, and carriages full of goods passed to and fro, destined for the Grand Market or further.


    ¡°Now, Pete. I don¡¯t want to be impatient, but a lot is riding on this. Are you <i>absolutely </i>sure that you''ll have an <i>amazing </i>new brew for me by the end of the week?¡± Copperpot gave me a serious glower, the effect of which waspletely lost by the ridiculousness of his slowly spinning beanie.


    I choked back a chuckle. ¡°If this was meant fer dwarves it''d be an illegal weapon, because it¡¯ll knock yer socks clean off!¡±


    Copperpot smirked. ¡°Indeed. A drink capable of removing a dwarf from their socks would immediately be banned.¡±


    I drummed my fingers on my belt buckle. ¡°You mentioned that a lot was ridin¡¯ on it? I can''t imagine this facility was too expensive fer apany of your<i></i>size.¡±


    Copperpot nodded. ¡°That¡¯s true. <i>Liquidity </i>is the issue. Some of the funds that I had earmarked for our expansion into the Mine Corporation mines was put into this endeavour instead. My family board of directors has voiced their <i>concerns</i>. If this flops entirely there¡¯s a chance we could lose our opportunity to transfer control. If we are <i>sessful, </i>the bank will loan us any further funds we may require in the meantime.¡±


    I sucked in my breath. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do that, Copperpot!¡±


    Copperpot reached up to pat me on the shoulder. ¡°I believe in your capabilities, Peter Roughtuff, and you were right. This is a chance to make <i>history</i>. What are some mines to that?¡±


    ¡°Gold is gold.¡± I intoned, invoking the second meaning.


    Copperpot nodded. ¡°See? This is one of the reasons I like you. You appreciate what really matters. Bring me something incredible Pete.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll like it. I really, really do.¡± I really, really, <i>really</i>, hoped so! ¡°I should go check on it right now! Thanks for the tour!¡±


    ¡°Ahhhh, one more thing.¡± Copperpot put up a finger. ¡°This hasn¡¯t exactly been quiet. The Mine Corporation likely understands what¡¯s at stake and would love to see our ns go awry. I¡¯m hoping they won¡¯t have realized your importance in all this, but please be careful for the next week. Perhaps take that big strapping golden brother of yours when you¡¯re out in public.¡±


    I felt an icy hand grip my stomach as I imagined dystopian corporate hit squadsing after me. Dystopian corporate hit squads <i>with magic.</i>


    By the Unholy Yams of Yearn! At least I wouldn¡¯t need to worry about snipers with all the low buildings around here. Instead, I needed to worry about some passerby spraying me with a monster acid capable of melting my flesh down to the bone in half a second.


    Copperpot must have sensed my agony. ¡°Lillyweather, how about you escort Peter back to his brewery? Lillyweather has a way of calling for help installed in her limb, as well as a short-term shield, so you¡¯ll be safe with her."


    Lillyweather stepped forward with a small smile. ¡°Of course, Professor. Are you heading to the Thirsty Goat, Pete?¡± She twisted her prosthetic foot from side to side in the dirt. ¡°We could grab a coffee or some cakes at Joejam¡¯s on the way, if you¡¯d like.¡±


    ¡°You children go have fun, I have to get back to work. So long, and remember; <i>incredible</i>.¡± Copperpot patted me on the shoulder and made his way back inside the warehouse.


    Lillyweather gave me a blinding smile.


    ¡°Do you want to lead the way, Pete?¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Professor Copperpot is really excited about this project. Honestly, I am too.¡± Lillyweather gestured expansively. ¡°Imagine! The first dwarven brew crafted by gnomish hands!¡±


    We were almost halfway back to the Goat, and Lillyweather had been talking non-stop the entire way. She had a nervous edge to her tone, and I could feel her building up to something.


    I regarded the small gnomess, with her mousey hair and pink cheeks and felt my stomach churn. She had her head tilted down and was doing that ¡®peeking through eyshes¡¯ thing while she waited for my reply. She still reminded me of my daughter, though it no longer hurt to look at her. No, I was suffering in a different way, with a feeling I hadn¡¯t felt since high school.


    I wasn¡¯t a fan of this, oh dear Gods no. I thought I¡¯d been free after I got married, but it was all rushing back. The awkwardness, the fumbling, the jostling around the issue.


    She was going to ask me out. And I was going to have to reject her.


    ¡°You know, some gnomes have probably tried brewing beer in secret before. It isn''t really fair to im we''re first.¡± I pointed out.


    Lillyweather stopped for half a step, then resumed walking. ¡°Well, it will be the first <i>official</i> brew, and that¡¯s more than enough! Everyone in the university knows that an achievement doesn¡¯t mean much if nobody knows you did it.¡±


    I winced. That was academia all right - Edisons and Tes all over again.


    Lillyweather continued talking, ¡°There was this one time, one of the grad students did this big project and asked one of the senior Professors to review it. The project was a huge sess, but the Professor got all the credit since his name was on it. It wasn¡¯t even on purpose, but nobody believed a grad student could have done it all on his own. I found out because a friend of mine¡¯s sister knew him and it absolutely crushed him. He quit and went to be a barista. Not that the traditional gnomish career of Barista isn¡¯t amazing anyway, but what a loss to the world of research!¡±


    We were approaching Joejam¡¯s and her voice was beginning to quaver. When we were within a hundred meters or so, she blurted out.


    ¡°Pete, would you be free to - to - um - ¡° she pointed vaguely towards Joejam''s.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± I sighed. I continued firmly, but politely. ¡°I have a lot to prepare. I really appreciate you walking me back, Lillyweather, but I just don¡¯t have time for anything else right now.¡±


    Lillyweather¡¯s smile turned sick and she stumbled over her next words. ¡°Oh, ok. I - I - if you¡¯d like, we could get a drink together another - another time? What are you doing¡­ next Arday?¡±


    I went over my schedule in my head. ¡°That¡¯ll be past our crunch, so I can absolutely set aside some time next Arday to have drinks with a <i>friend</i>.¡± I gave a small sad smile with thest word.


    Lillyweather twitched. ¡°With - with - a friend.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°A <i>good</i> friend.¡±


    She smiled again, but it had lost a lot of its lustre. Her eyes brimmed. She wiped her forearm across them andughed, a tinkle of mournful bells. ¡°You¡¯re a <i>great</i> friend, Pete. Not just good. Everybody knows that.¡±


    My stomach felt heavy, but I couldn¡¯t string her along like this. I <i>hated</i> people who did that. Romantic gamesmanship could go and bugger Aaron¡¯s Fancy Freckled Arse.


    We continued the walk back to the Goat in silence. I politely didn¡¯t notice her asional sniffle. When we reached the door she gave me a simple farewell. We shook hands and she went on her way.


    I took a deep breath before I crossed the threshold. Ugh, I had <i>not</i> been emotionally prepared for that today. I -


    There was a *Bi-dang* and a notification popped up. The sound was off, and it was a little different from my usual notifications. There was a fuzzy purple outline to the blue box and the writing was cursive instead of the easy to read blocky font I was used to. It read:


    <strong>Quest: True Love</strong>


    <i>In another lifetime you found and lost what many can only dream of. Can you do it again?</i><i></i>


    <i>True Love Found: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: True Love is its own reward</i>


    A momentter there was another *Bi-dang!*


    <strong>Quest Updated: True Love</strong><i></i>


    <i>Ugh, fine, whatever. Jerks. I''ll make you regret this!</i><i></i>


    <i>True Love Found: 0/1</i>


    <i><strong>Rewards:</strong> [ess to the Karma Store]</i>


    That¡­ that had to be a quest from Yearn. Could she do that? Could <i>all </i>the Gods do that and they just hadn¡¯t bothered yet? I¡¯d been under the impression that only Barck and Tiara could give me quests. Maybe the others weren¡¯t giving quests because they didn¡¯t want me to win the game? And what was this <i>Karma Store</i>!?


    My mind was whirling with questions and emotions as I stepped through the door and straight into a bushy red haired dwarf on the other side. He¡¯d been chatting with Aqua, who was dwarfing the counter, and hadn¡¯t noticed meing in. He looked like a lumberjack, and smelled like one too. It was a face I hadn¡¯t seen in over a year.


    He turned a baleful frown on me that morphed into a giant grin. ¡°Pete, m¡¯boy! How are ya doin¡¯, eh?¡± Then Sam, the [Maestro] of Minnova Reform Mine, engulfed me in an enormous hairy hug.

 Book 2: Chapter 31: Sam I Am

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 31: Sam I Am</h4>


    We immediately moved things into the brewpub. It was a few hours until dinner and Lemontwist and Bran were busy in the kitchen while Kirk did a final cleanup touch in the dining area. Aqua stayed behind in the front of the store, though she clearly wanted toe and meet the red-haired [Maestro] the rest of us had talked so much about.


    ¡°I got out a bit early. Had ta use some o¡¯ me rockslide funds, but I had things ta do.¡± He said as we walked through the door. Then he saw Kirk. ¡°You have a <i>Giant!?</i>¡±


    ¡°Ahoy there! I¡¯m Kirk.¡± Kirk held his hand out for a fist bump, and Sam tapped it with his own after a moment¡¯s hesitation.


    Sam looked around the room with his hands on his hips. ¡°You¡¯ve got a great lookin¡¯ ce here! Where¡¯s Balin? How¡¯sabout Wreck? I know she wanted ta see you lot when she got out.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Balin¡¯s in tha dungeon right now. He¡¯s workin'' as an adventurer. Wreck never showed up, but Annie should be in the office out back. Kirk, could you go grab her?¡±


    ¡°Aye aye, Bossman.¡± Kirk gave me a salute and in a few long strides was through the swinging door to the brewroom.


    ¡°Bossman, eh?¡± Sam raised an eyebrow as bushy as my own and smiled with apparent satisfaction. ¡°You¡¯ve been doin¡¯ pretty well fer yerself haven¡¯t ya?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll say! I Specialised! I¡¯m a [Brewer] now!¡±


    Sam¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Weren¡¯t ya just Blessed in tha mine!?¡± He thumped me on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m proud of you, m¡¯boy!¡±


    I rubbed one finger under my nose across my moustache in embarrassment. ¡°Heh. Wait till you hear the rest of it.¡±


    Annie burst through the swinging doors, her golden hair swaying in a set of pleats. Kirk wasn¡¯t with her, so he must have decided to give us some privacy. ¡°So, where¡¯s this <i>Sam</i>?¡±


    Sam waved. ¡°Hallo! You must be that Anniess that Balin was so desperate ta get to. I can see why!¡± He didn¡¯t <i>quite </i>leer; it was more of an appreciative twinkle.


    Annie walked over and the two exchanged a fist bump.


    ¡°Balin says you were very helpful to him and Pete in the Reform Mine.¡± Annie said. ¡°As his fiancee, and the head of the Goldstone family, I¡¯d like to thank you. Blessings of the Gods be upon you.¡± She made a bow that involved scooping her beard up and presenting it to him. It was the most obsequious thing I¡¯d ever seen a dwarf do.


    Sam threw back his head andughed. ¡°Har har har! No need for that! I was just lookin¡¯ after a couple o¡¯ lostds.¡±


    ¡°It was more than that, Sam. I heard from Grim that you helped them catch Tim. You really looked out for us, so thankee.¡± I copied Annie and held my beard out with my head bowed.


    Sam¡¯s cheeks turned a bit rosier than usual. ¡°Well I was happy ta help. Now, what¡¯s happened while I was stuck inside? I heard some of tha oddest things from me pal Drum and that dink Browning.¡±


    ¡°Browning!?¡± Annie ground her teeth and smashed a fist down on a table. ¡°What¡¯s that bastard up to now!¡±


    Sam pulled thoughtfully at his beard. ¡°Last I saw him, we¡¯d dumped him in a unigoat pen. They¡¯ve gotten dirty without Pete and Balin around to clean ¡®em out. They all miss you ya¡¯know. You lot made things interesting.¡±


    ¡°What? They didn¡¯t like Browning in the mine either?¡±


    ¡°He thinks so highly of ¡®imself that he¡¯s got one foot on tha Pinnacle.¡± Sam shook his head. ¡°Rubs folk, especially tha type in a Reform Mine, tha wrong way. Plus I heard what he did to ya. I made sure he was beggin¡¯ Yearn fer release!¡±


    ¡°yed him the old bagpipes didja?¡± I smirked.


    Sam made a rude gesture. ¡°Nah, I still need ta get ¡®em from City Hall. I came here first thing! But he was tryin¡¯ ta get at ya from inside tha¡¯ mine, so we kept him too busy to try.¡±


    Annie frowned. ¡°You helped Pete get connected with Drum too, didn''t you? It sounds like we really owe you a lot. So, drinks and food are on the house! Bran! Can we get a set of fries?¡±


    ¡°And sandwiches! With white sauce! Just like you used to make them!¡± I called as well.


    Sam looked over at the kitchen. ¡°Bran!? How did he end up here!?¡±


    Bran stuck his head out the serving hatch. ¡°Sign from the Gods, Sam.¡± He deadpanned. Everyoneughed, but I gulped. That might actually be true.


    We sat down to chat about the status of the mine, and what had happened over the past year. Sam was especially excited to hear about all the Octamillenialpetitions, and waxed poetically about how they indicated a step forward in dwarven culture.


    We fell deathly silent when Bran brought out some fries and a sandwich along with a ss of Ass-ster. He stayed to watch, grinning like a fool. Then again, Bran hadn¡¯t really <i>stopped</i> grinning since the cooking contest.


    Sam stared down at his te and poked a fry. ¡°What¡¯s this? And why¡¯s tha beer that colour, with all the bubbles and whatnot? Is this tha new brew Browning was screamin'' about?¡±


    ¡°Try it.¡± I said.


    ¡°Try it, it¡¯s a fry.¡± Annie nodded.


    ¡°Eat it, ya coward.¡± Bran kicked the pic bench.


    Sam hesitantly put a fry in his mouth and chewed. It crunched between his teeth, giving off that slight sound that only a perfectly browned and nched fry could. He closed his eyes and chewed more thoroughly, then grabbed a handful and stuffed them in his mouth.


    ¡°*Mmmmmmm* By Tiara¡¯s Teats, I fergot how delicious yer cookin¡¯ was Bran!¡± He said around mouthfuls of fry and sandwich.


    We sat to eat ours in silence as well, chuckling at the moaning soundsing from Sam as he devoured his meal. The chuckles turned into outrightughter as he took a swing of beer then leapt screaming from his chair when his butt erupted with a sound not too unlike a bagpipe.


    ¡°What in the elfin Nether was that!!!¡± He roared.


    ¡°Ahahaha!¡± I wiped a tear from my eye. ¡°That¡¯s our Ass-ster! It¡¯s the beer that got Browning sent to prison! Didn¡¯t Drum tell you?¡±


    ¡°I thought he was yankin¡¯ my beard!¡± Sam stared aghast at his ss then at the three of us, who were all nowughing with tears running down into our beards. Well, Annie and I were. Bran was just chortling.


    ¡°It¡¯s real!¡± I said between gasping breaths.


    ¡°And nobody¡¯s burned tha brewery to tha ground yet?¡± Sam asked with amazement.


    That stopped ourughter in its tracks. ¡°Is that¡­ uh, is that likely?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Would''ve been back when I was ad.¡± Sam peered into the softly fizzing drink. ¡°Times really are changin¡¯.¡± He smiled wide and gulped the entire drink down as fast as possible.


    I took a step back ¡°Uh¡­ that may not be the best -¡°


    *BRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPP!!!!*


    ¡ª


    After we¡¯d aired out the room we got to talking about the past year before moving on to Sam¡¯s ns for the future.


    ¡°I¡¯m headed to Kinshasa.¡± He said around a mouthful of crisps. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearin¡¯ about some kinda Great Charter. It sounds right my style. I want ta meet this Thad Harmsson. Mebee give him a hand, or a bagpipe.¡±


    ¡°Great Charter?¡± Bran scoffed. ¡°What¡¯s so great about it?¡±


    ¡°Hey, we read about that!¡± I said. ¡°Annie, remember that poster I found? The one asking the King to sign something? It wasining about the mistreatment of gnomes and the behaviour of the High Lords.¡±


    Annie slowly nodded. ¡°Aye, I remember that.¡±


    ¡°Way I heard it, Thad has been gatherin¡¯ up a lotta the younger nobles, and oldermon dwarves like me that¡¯re tired o¡¯ tha same thing century after century.¡± Sam continued. ¡°Drum¡¯ll bein¡¯ too, along with a few others from our old crew.¡±


    ¡°Your old crew?¡± Annie asked cautiously.


    Sam shrugged. ¡°We did some adventurin¡¯ back in tha day. Our team was torn apart thanks to some damnable lord¡¯s son. It¡¯s a long story, but Drum lost his arm, I¡­ lost me brother, and our party split up. It was a long time ago now.¡± He hung his head sadly.


    There was a heavy silence, and I decided to break it. ¡°Speaking of Drum, Sam. He said that I should ask you about my name.¡±


    Sam''s face grew sad. ¡°Aye, he said ya changed it. He wouldn¡¯t stopughin¡¯ about it. And what kinda name is Roughtuff?¡±


    Annie bristled. ¡°A perfectly eptable one!¡±


    ¡°Do you know why?¡± I asked.


    Sam practically growled. ¡°Why ya changed it? I¡¯m not a [Telepath].¡±


    ¡°Nooo, why he wasughin¡¯!¡±


    Sam bounced his knees for a moment, then shook his head. ¡°If ya want to know so much,e find me in Kinshasa. Yer trying to get into this brewin¡¯ contest right? Think of it as yer reward fer winnin¡¯, eh.¡±


    ¡°I already won mine.¡± Bran put in, nonchntly. ¡°You can tell me. I won¡¯t tell Pete.¡±


    I red daggers at him.


    Sam thought for a second. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll tell Pete first, but only if he wins.¡±


    ¡°Well then!¡± Annie dered, and raised her tankard of New Brew. ¡°Here¡¯s to winning the brewing contest, and Sam¡¯s release from indenture!¡±


    We toasted and drank back the fizzy brown pisswater. Ugh. I was bing more and more dwarfy by the day, why weren¡¯t my tastebuds changing to match?


    An hourter it was almost time for the dinner rush, and Sam said his farewells.


    ¡°You watch out fer yerself, you hear me son?¡± He clutched me by the neck and banged our helmets together. ¡°Yer doin¡¯ somethin¡¯ dangerous here. Even if it hasn¡¯t hurt you yet. Things¡¯ll be different if you make it to the Capital. I¡¯ll run interference best I can, but you make sure to watch yer back. Never know when there¡¯ll be some noble¡¯s hired killer lookin¡¯ to put an axe in it.¡±


    I shivered. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯ll have the famous adventurer Balin of Goldenlight looking after us.¡±


    Heughed at that. ¡°They really call him that? It suits ¡®im. Tell him I said hello!¡±


    ¡°Will do. Try not to break any hearts or eardrums out there.¡±


    ¡°Har! No promises!¡±


    He waved goodbye, and then he was gone.


    ¡°He seems nice.¡± Annie remarked.


    Bran shrugged. ¡°He¡¯d be better if he didn¡¯t keep getting arrested. He¡¯s been in and out of half the Reform Mines in Crack. Dinner rush is starting soon, so you two had better help clean up this mess.¡±


    We stared out over the pile of dirty tes, dirty tankards, and food particles.


    ¡°Why do we need to clean up the mess?¡± I asked.


    Annie and Bran were both stunned.


    ¡°Mister ¡®keep everything clean¡¯ is asking? Who are you and what¡¯ve you done to Pete?¡± Annie choked.


    I smiled wide. ¡°Well, doesn¡¯t it belong here? It is the <i>mess</i> hall. Nyuck.¡±


    Annie¡¯s foot found my shin at roughly the exact moment that Bran¡¯s fist found the back of my helmet. I spun head over heels and crashed to the ground. I was hoisted up between the pair of them and a few secondster found myself sailing through the window out into the alley.


    Being tossed was actually kind of fun.


    Hitting the ground? Not so much. We should really move Penelope¡¯s haypile here.


    At least Inded on my head.

 Book 2: Chapter 32: Dear John

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 32: Dear John</h4>


    After Sam left, the rest of the day was fairly standard. The dinner rush came and went, I had new appreciation for watching Kirk toss people out the window, and the beer with dinner still tasted awful.


    What was <i>not</i> new was what waited for us at the Goldstonepound.


    I¡¯d taken Copperpot¡¯s warning to heart and was staying at Annie¡¯s ce until our partnership was fully up and running. Balin just wasn¡¯t around enough to use as a glorified bodyguard, and I didn¡¯t really do muchtely other than bounce between home and work anyway.


    I was turning into a workaholic. <i>That</i> was going to stop ASAP or it would be a habit.


    Annie led the way and I bumped into her as she came to aplete stop in the doorway.


    ¡°*Ouf*! Hey, watch it! I¡¯m walkin¡¯ ere!¡± I said in my best Bostonian as I rubbed my nose where it had smacked into her helmet.


    ¡°Georgie?¡± Annie whispered, her voice cracking.


    I looked past her to see a squat rectangr mechanical dog-crab thing. It scurried about on four legs and had tworge pincer tipped arms. It had no real head, just a series of ruby and emerald gems on the front of its boxy, brozeish body. It was in the middle of moving a bunch of crates around. There were a <i>lot </i>of crates and new furniture scattered around the previously sparsely furnishedpound.


    Penelope was following behind us, and bleated angrily at the traffic jam. She stuck her head between our knees to take a peek, then gave a disapproving mah.


    The machine - golem? - gave a series of high pitched whistles then turned to regard us. It gave a cheery wave and returned to its work. It picked up a box, ced it on its wide, t back, then moved out of the room.


    ¡°Uh, what was that?¡± I asked, peeking at Annie¡¯s face. It had gone puke yellow.


    ¡°That - that was Georgie. Our n golem,¡± she said. ¡°We had to sell it, to help pay for damages after the explosion. I don¡¯t understand -¡±


    A pair of dwarves walked into the room, interrupting her. I didn¡¯t recognize the first dwarf, though he had that universal ¡®look¡¯ that I associated with contractors, teachers, and union reps. He had a belt filled with tools and was lightly coated in stone dust. The second dwarf was John.


    They were in the middle of a conversation and John finished up before acknowledging us. ¡°Aye, and please send someone ta fix the sauna next. I''d like to rx after all this hard work. Ah, hullo Annie, Pete.¡±


    *meaaaaaaah* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] "Excuuuuuuuuuse me?"


    ¡°And you too Penelope. Who¡¯s a good goat?¡±


    Penelope ran up to John for chin scritches. The other dwarf nodded to us as he and Penelope passed each other at the door.


    John was dressed in much nicer clothing and armour than usual. It looked old, but was shining and well cared for. It fit him like a glove.


    ¡°John? What¡¯s goin¡¯ on?¡± I asked.


    Annie cut in. ¡°How is Georgie here?¡±


    ¡°And why haven¡¯t you been at work? Or at least told us where you were!¡± I followed, usingly.


    ¡°That¡¯s a long story¡­¡± John began. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy this week.¡±


    ¡°Shorten it.¡± Annie snapped. ¡°I¡¯ve been so worried!¡±


    John raised an eyebrow. ¡°Jeremiah knew where I was.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Annie blushed. She still wasn¡¯t talking to her father much.


    ¡°And where was that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Simple. I was getting all our n¡¯s property back.¡± John waved his arm around the room, indicating the boxes and furniture.


    ¡°Is that¡­ is that our old lounge?¡± Annie muttered, walking up to a long shape covered in cloth. She peeked under it and nodded. ¡°Mum used to sing songs to me on it.¡±


    John nodded. ¡°Aye, it¡¯s all here. All I could find anyway. Between tha horrorgourd and the explosion we¡¯d lost most of our n¡¯s history.¡± He said thest in my direction.


    ¡°How did you afford all this?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I bet all the ns savings on Bran winnin¡¯ the contest. After he got all burned up and lost so much time the odds on him winnin¡¯ were higher than the Pinnacle.¡± He said it smugly but I gulped. Unholy Nether, what a bet!


    ¡°You did WHAT!¡± Annie roared. ¡°I¡¯m tha n head now! You can¡¯t do that without talkin¡¯ to me first!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been in charge o¡¯ tha n¡¯s finances fer years. Ya never undid it.¡± He pointed out.


    Annie sputtered. ¡°But <i>how could you do that</i>!?¡±


    John sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. ¡°Come on in, we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    ¡ª


    We moved into the Goldstone n library. It had once been a rather sparse space with some paintings, a single long table, and a set of chairs. Now it had books filling every wall, along with gold picture frames, a couple sets of plush couches, and a pair of kegs and tankards up against the wall.


    Annie¡¯s breath drew in as she looked around.


    ¡°Looks just like it used ta, doesn''t it.¡± John said, a pleased smile on his lips. He went and filled a set of tankards. ¡°New Brew. I know ya hate the old stuff, Pete.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Not a fan of the new stuff either, to tell tha truth.¡±


    ¡°Well, more for us then. Take a seat you two.¡±


    We sat and drank in silence for a minute. Annie looked around the room in wonder, and I admired some of the books on the wall. I was going to talk to Richter about moving our tutoring sessions here. The library was great, but it was always kind of hard to concentrate with so many people around.


    ¡°Alright, the bet," John began. ¡°I don¡¯t think you two really realize it yet, since you¡¯ve been pouring so much gold into expanding and what-not, but you¡¯ve already brought our sales up to what they were before your ident.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°I¡­ don''t know what the previous numbers were. Is it really that high?¡±


    ¡°Aye. And if you add the moneying in from Whistlemop, it¡¯s much higher.¡± He looked my way.


    ¡°I have an amount of gold that may or may not require scientific notation.¡± I smirked.


    The two gave me nk looks. Annie rolled her eyes.


    ¡°What¡¯s - ¡° John began, but she cut him off.


    ¡°What does that have to do with you putting the n¡¯s coffers on a <i>bet</i>, John!? How <i>could</i> you!?¡±


    ¡°<i>You</i> did it once already, remember?¡± He said off-handedly, and her mouth snapped shut. ¡°Besides, we didn¡¯t have much in the coffers to begin with. At the current rate we would¡¯ve doubled it within a year. This was an opportunity ta make a <i>lot</i> more with one giant bet.¡±


    I squinted. ¡°How much more?¡±


    John¡¯s grin turned feral. ¡°It¡¯ll take the casino a while ta pay me back. After Bran lost all that time and bought a buncha fish nobody expected him to win.¡±


    Annie and I nched at that. I resolved to go find out what the return had been. A hundred to one? Two hundred? If he¡¯d put down a whole year of n finances¡­ my eyes widened.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been out and about thast week buying all the stuff we had to sell over the past few decades to make ends meet. I couldn¡¯t get <i>all</i> of it, but most sold it back at what they bought it for. Folk are always happy when a n gets back on its feet. I had to spend a bit extra to get Georgie back, but I had to. You¡¯ll be needing him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ next time please tell me first, John.¡± Annie sighed.


    ¡°I was hopin¡¯ to surprise you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m definitely surprised.¡±


    ¡°Which brings me to the next bit of news.¡± John pulled a pipe out from his pocket and lit it. The scent of it quickly permeated the room as he took a deep breath and let it out in a ring. ¡°I¡¯m quittin''.¡±


    We stared nkly back. I opened my mouth for the requisite ¡®what!?¡¯, when Annie smoothly interrupted.


    "Is it time?"


    "Aye. My back''s not what it used to be, and things are moving too fast for me. And if you win that contest you''ll be leaving Minnova, right? No, winning that bet was enough for ast hurrah. I''m done."


    Annie ruffled her beard. ¡°I understand, John. You¡¯ve been a great help through the years. Will you be continuing your duties to the n?"


    John smiled. ¡°You always were a defter hand than your pap. Aye, I¡¯ll do my duty.¡±


    ¡°Do you want -¡± she began


    John waved his hand. ¡°No parties.¡±


    ¡°Then,¡± Annie stood and bowed, giving the same ¡®beard held out¡¯ gesture I¡¯d seen her do before. ¡°John Goldstone. The Goldstone n thanks you for your centuries of service. May Aaron Bless you for your hard work and Tiara for that which you have brought into the world.¡±


    John looked ted, but somehow defeated at the same time. ¡°I¡¯m a little old for myst Blessin,ss. All these years and never got Titled. The Greybeards will wonder if I¡¯ve been wasting my time.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Annie coughed, then nced at me.


    I shrugged. What was <i>I</i> supposed to do about it? My presence just increased the chance of getting a Blessing, it didn¡¯t -


    John sat bolt upright and looked wildly around the room. ¡°I just got a <i>Blessing</i>!? For ¡®centuries of service'' and ¡®one giant bet¡¯!? Those were my exact words; are tha Gods watchin¡¯ us <i>right now</i>?¡±


    ¡°The Gods are <i>always</i> watching,¡± I intoned reverentially. ¡°They are omniscient and omnipotent creepy stalkers.¡±


    ¡°Who''s it from?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°Aaron¡­¡± John said, and flomped down into his cushioned couch. He took another long drag from his pipe.


    ¡°Who were you Blessed by before?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aaron, actually. When I took over the n finances. That¡¯s quite normal. I¡¯ve never heard of someone getting a Blessing when they <i>quit</i> before¡­¡± He grumbled. ¡°Too little, too elfinte.¡±


    ¡°Are you goin'' to ept?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Of course I¡¯m going to ept! Are you daft!? Who wants to be the only old bastard at the tavern without a Title!¡±


    ¡°Twice Blessed by Aaron?¡± Annie¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That means you can be a [Discer]!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the teleportation specialist?¡± I said. ¡°Like that dwarfess who brought Healer Bastion to the mine? What was her name.. [sh of Insight]... Discer Ruby.¡±


    ¡°You can travel all over Crack with that!¡± Annie eximed. ¡°It¡¯s a very powerful Title! Congrattions, Uncle!¡±


    John was shaking his head, and we looked at him in confusion. He exined, ¡°Who wants to go traveling when home is here? And you know how it is, as soon as you have the power to take people anywhere, everyonees and bothers you all the time. Sounds like a terrible retirement to me.¡±


    Ah, like being the friend with the truck. Everyone knows that buying a truckes with a shit load of phone calls asking you to ¡®help me move this fridge¡¯ and whatnot. And all you got in return was pizza. Usually hawaiian. Ugh, pineapple did <i>not</i> belong in pizza. It belonged in Tepache.


    Ahhhh, Tepache. Another one of those marvelous alcohols I wasnt able to make yet.


    It was a Mexican fermented pineapple drink simr to ginger beer. Instead of a ginger bug, it used pineapple fruit and rinds and brown sugar to get the fermentation going. It didn¡¯t use any added yeast, making do with natural environmental yeasts, which resulted in a low alcohol content. I preferred to add a bit of beer to my Tepache to jump start fermentation and get a higher ABV. It was especially delicious on hot summer days in the valley.


    Mmmmmm¡­ I missed fruity drinks. Who cares if they''re girly; they''re delicious!


    ¡°Nah, I know exactly what I want.¡± John said, and breathed out another smoke ring. Except, this time, the smoke ring congealed into a galloping unigoat and pranced around the table. Penelope walked up to it and bit down, swallowing the smoke whole. Then she turned a reproachful look on John.


    Annie choked. ¡°You just became an [<i>Aethershaper</i>]. So you could blow <i>smoke rings</i>.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Why!?¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    The pair of us stared at our old hire in consternation as he giggled and blew more smoke animals.


    Back in the foyer, our new hire gave a cheerful series of whistles as it loaded up another set of crates.

 Book 2: Chapter 33: Bean There, Done That

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 33: Bean There, Done That</h4>


    Racking day was always stressful, and the addition of a pair of twitchy, tetchy Gnomes didn¡¯t help.


    We¡¯d invited Copperpot toe and have the first taste of our coffee stout, and he¡¯d been happy to oblige. Somehow Whistlemop had found out, and he¡¯d be <i>obsessed</i> with being there too. It was likely that Butler Bimbleberry had found out from Lemontwist and passed it on.


    We <i>were</i> partners, and the entire point of this enterprise was to expand brewing to the gnomishmunities, so we¡¯d extended an invite. With one caveat.


    ¡°You do realize that we were business partners long before you got involved. Pete and I have been through thick and thin together.¡± Whistlemop whined.


    ¡°Bah, thick is right if half the things I¡¯ve heard are true. Mayhaps if you were a better businessman, he¡¯d be partnering with <i>you</i> for this exercise.¡± Copperpot shot back.


    ¡°Some of us have to make do with what we¡¯ve built ourselves, and don¡¯t have a family monolith to prop us up!¡± Whistlemop gave an evil cackle.


    ¡°And yet only <i>one</i> of us is wearing a blindfold!¡±


    ¡°Grrrrrrrr¡­¡±


    Whistlemop was indeed wearing a blindfold, one that actually had a Thirsty Goat logo on it. Copperpot smugly spun his beanie and walked around our upgraded setup. The shiny newuter-tun sat where the old mash barrel used to be. It was a thing of beauty, and I only regretted that we couldn¡¯t use it until the current batches were all racked. I wanted to explore making a tea porter next.


    ¡°Yes, I can SEE<i></i>why thisuter-tun is so important, Pete.¡± Copperpot said jovially, tapping his finger on the shining metal.


    Whistlemop sulked.


    ¡°You should have seen it before!¡± Johnsson said brightly. ¡°The mash was aplete pain to stir after tha first half hour. The sack was better, but this tun thing is great!¡± He grabbed a handle of the knife-and-sparge wheel and gave it an easy spin.


    ¡°Yeah. <i>Before</i>. When this ce had ayer of dust knee high.¡± I sighed. It wasn¡¯t a happy sigh.


    Copperpot raised his eyebrows. ¡°I¡¯ve been dealing with dwarves my entire life. I can imagine.¡±


    ¡°That was then, this is now.¡± I led Copperpot over to my four covered experimentation tanks. ¡°These tanks have the stouts in them. The covered tops mean that we¡¯ll probably be able to skip the bottle conditioning stage. At least, I hope so.¡±


    Using [Refine Brew] on all of the cases of bottles after racking had been a nightmare. I was hoping that our product turnover rate and the better carbon dioxide retention of the covered tanks would mean I wouldn¡¯t need to do that any more.


    Copperpot looked over at the older tanks, with their open tops and bubbling Ancestral Seed. ¡°I can see why you went with the covered tanks. I imagine that open design invites contamination.¡±


    ¡°Ahhh, I knew a Gnome of Science like yourself would understand.¡± I purred.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand the levering lids on this new design though.¡± He pointed to where the lid of a new tank connected to its base with an enormous hinge.


    ¡°It¡¯s pressure relief. Ideally there wouldn¡¯t be a lid at all, just a hatch for someone to go in and clean. That or a way to thoroughly sanitise the whole system.¡± I said.


    ¡°I could do something about that¡­¡± Copperpot murmured. ¡°How high does the pressure get?¡±


    I pointed to the new wall, where the stones were clearly recently ced. ¡°That high.¡±


    Copperpot¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°Which is why we scrapped the lidless designs.¡± Annie smoothly followed up. ¡°But, if an esteemed [Engineer] such as yourself put it together, I¡¯m sure everyone would haveplete faith in its safety.¡±


    Copperpot spun his beanie again and thumbed his chin. ¡°I could probably put something together. It¡¯s toote for our current project, but in the future¡­¡±


    ¡°It would be inval-u-able if you could get it done before we move to Kinshasa.¡± I said. ¡°The prize for winnin¡¯ the local contest includes a brewery of your own design in the capital.¡±


    ¡°Well, if the King is going to pay, I¡¯ll go all out!¡± Copperpot gave a wide smile. ¡°Lidless, capable of withstanding high pressure, a pressure release valve, a sanitisation system, a tap. What else would you need?¡±


    ¡°A better way of rackin¡¯ ¡®em.¡± Moonyined, and Markus agreed. ¡°This industrial bottle stick is <i>terrible</i> on the back! No wonder John retired!¡±


    ¡°A better way of rackin¡¯ them.¡± I agreed. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about designster.¡±


    ¡°Count me in too.¡± Annie put in. ¡°Pete has a terrible tendency to go overboard, and I know [Engineers], you¡¯ll keep adding more and more until each tank costs a million mithril. Let¡¯s not agitate the King before we even move in!¡±


    ¡°Running ahead of our beards, are we?¡± Aqua deadpanned.


    ¡°I got tha Princess!¡± Richter¡¯s voice boomed, and everyone dashed to their stations. As with most racking and brewing days, nearly everyone was present for the pomp and circumstance. Aqua and Tom stood against one wall, with Jeremiah and John beside them. I gave Jeremiah a nod and he gave me a nod back. ording to Annie, in the Goldstone n¡¯s heyday, racking had been a big party, with everyone invited no matter old or young.


    Now it was just our ragtag team. Ah well, we were less ragtag by the year.


    ¡°Pete, can you do the final step, please?¡± Annie asked, motioning to the tanks of stout. I took a deep breath and stepped forward. This next step would decide how special our new brew really was.


    I put my hand on the first tank and intoned, ¡°[Refine Brew]!¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Milestone Used</strong>


    <i>Combine [Burnt Umber Erdroot] with [Coffee Stout]</i>?


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I gave Annie a huge grin and mentally hit ¡®Yes¡¯.


    <strong>Milestone Used!</strong>


    <i>[Burnt Umber Erdroot] has been sessfullybined with [Coffee Stout</i><i>]</i>.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just realized a problem.¡± Annie said, as I walked back to my spot. ¡°There¡¯s no way to check the Ancestral Seed without opening the tank, which defeats the purpose of having it enclosed in the first ce. How are we supposed to know if it¡¯s a Perfect Brew?¡±


    ¡°A viewport should help with that.¡± I said, looking at Copperpot.


    ¡°There¡¯s some new extra strong ss that we could use.¡± He said, pulling out a notepad and adding some notes.


    ¡°I have <i>lots</i> of experience with ss, and own thergest ssworks in the city!¡± Whistlemop jumped in, a tinge of desperation in his voice at being excluded.


    ¡°Speaking of ss, has there been any movement on my return n, Whistlemop?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been feeling a bit jittery at the sheer number of bottles starting to pile up in the city.¡±


    Whistlemop pawed at his blindfold; I gently pushed it back on his eyes. ¡°If you¡¯re referring to your terrible n of putting blue barrels everywhere in the city for people to throw bottles in and collecting them at our own expense? Yes. And it¡¯s expensive.¡±


    ¡°What it costs us in gold it will eventually pay off in Sweeeeeet Emoootion!¡± I riffed on a Steven Tyler Aero-guitar. ¡°Plus, when we¡¯re back in the Brewer¡¯s Guild we can get the Guild to pay for it. Nearly every brewery in the city is using bottles, so it makes no sense for us to handle it alone. Too bad they don¡¯t know about the bottle conditioning step, though¡­¡± I paused, and sighed. ¡°I should probably tell them before someone experiments and gets hurt."


    If Mercedes Benz can hand out safety equipment patents for free, so could I.


    Annie raised her hand and called for attention. ¡°Let¡¯s get started. For now it looks like we won¡¯t know if it¡¯s a Perfect Brew until Penelope gets her turn. Sorry everyone.¡±


    There was a chorus of AWWWWWWWW and Johnsson even muttered, "Tanks for <i>nothing</i>." It was a beautiful pun. I was so proud that I brushed away a tear.


    ¡°As is tradition, the first drink will go to Penelope. Long may she live!¡± Annie intoned the familiar words.


    Annie turned the spigot to pour Erd''s first stout into Penelope¡¯s special bowl, and Penelope pranced up joyfully.


    *Meeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Finally, I have been awaiting this moment all mine life! Give unto me the Aqua Vitae!¡±


    ¡°Long may she live!¡± We all shouted, though Copperpot and Whistlemop just looked about in confusion.


    ¡°What¡¯re they doing?¡± Whistlemop whined.


    ¡°The <i>goat </i>drinks first?¡± Copperpot asked, aghast. ¡°Animal testing is <i>banned</i> at the University!¡±


    ¡°And yet you experiment on monsters <i>all the time</i>.¡± Whistlemop said coyly.


    ¡°That¡¯s different, and you know it!¡± Copperpot snapped.


    ¡°Penelope has been given the first taste of every new batch going back to the creation of Goldstone Brewery. And there are technically no Ordinances against giving alcohol to goats,¡± Jeremiah put in from where he was holding up the wall.


    Annie¡¯s face pinched at Jeremiah¡¯s voice, and she seemed conflicted, but eventually she shook her head. ¡°Penelope¡¯s part in this goes beyond tradition. Spiritually, she¡¯s the oldest member of the brewery. I¡¯ve changed a lot of things as the new n leader, but that won¡¯t be one of them.¡±


    The stout that poured out from the spigot was a dark brown, the colour of a ck Americano, and immediately frothed to the top of Penelope¡¯s bowl. The scent of coffee wafted over to where we stood, and I could see Copperpot¡¯s nostril¡¯s dting. I pumped my fist; sess! Massively improved carbonation and scent profile right out of the gate! Penelope bumped the jiggly head with her nose then took a prance back.


    *Meeeeehee?* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°What foul manner of magic is this? Why does my meal have a shield!?¡±


    She pushed a hoof through the foam a few times while we all held our breath. If she didn¡¯t drink it, Thirsty Goat tradition said we had to toss the batch. But then she carefully stretched out her neck¡­ and tore the foam apart with her teeth, ripping it from the bowl and stomping it underfoot. Her sharp hooves danced a rhythm of destruction on the floor until the foam was paste. Zirce gulped.


    *Bleeat!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Do you all see what happens to that which keeps me from what I am owed?¡±


    Then Penelope stuck her nose into the bowl and took a cautious sip, followed by a hearty chug. She came up for air and licked her lips with pleasure. The cheer was immediate, and everyone broke into the traditional chorus.


    "Another batch is done atst,


    And so the dice of life are cast!


    A perfect brew is much to ask,


    When all we want is one full cask!


    We¡¯ll pop the cork to test the taste.


    Then drink it down, with none to waste!"


    ¡°Is the singing truly necessary?¡± Copperpot asked, making another note. Whistlemop nodded vigorously, agreeing with him for once.


    I scoffed. ¡°Puh-leez. Tha singin¡¯ is <i>always</i> necessary.¡±


    Copperpot and Whistlemop didn¡¯t look convinced.


    Penelope had gone stock still and was beginning to vibrate.


    ¡°Are we waitin¡¯ ta see what happens?¡± Richter asked, taking a step back. ¡°I remembah thast time.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad,¡± Johnson remarked, as he positioned himself behind Annie.


    ¡°There was just a bit of tulence.¡± Annie slowly sidled backward. ¡°What did you say the effects of burnt umber erdroot were, Pete?¡±


    ¡°High energy, just like caffeine. And Balin was here that time, wasn¡¯t he? He remembers that day¡­ fondly.¡± I began inching towards the door.


    Copperpot, Zirce, Emma, Markus, and Moony gave us confused looks. Moony twigged first and began pulling Markus over towards Jeremiah.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Whistlemop asked, still blindfolded. Right next to him, Penelope¡¯s eyes were dting and all four of her hooves were starting to tap a twitchy stato rhythm on the stone floor. ¡°What¡¯s that sound?¡±


    He reached out a finger and poked.


    *BL@@@@@HHHHHHH!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I¡¯m a goat!? WHY AM I A GOAT!? I CAN FEEL MY TONGUE!! I CAN SEE MY NOSE!!! AHHHHH!!¡±


    Coperpot¡¯s wailing rose above the carnage. ¡°BY ALL THE GODS, WHAT IS THAT GOAT DOING TO THAT POOR GNOME!!¡±


    ¡ª


    When the brewroom was finally clean we decided to let Whistlemop take off his blindfold. He¡¯d earned it.

 An Adventure Brewing: Book 1 of Beers and Beards Release!

    <h4>An Adventure Brewing: Book 1 of Beers and Beards Release!</h4>


    It¡¯s my pleasure to announce theunch of AN ADVENTURE BREWING: BEERS & BEARDS Book 1, avable now through Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and Audible! How did thise to be? One day while drilling rock and stone in my favourite game, I decided that there just weren¡¯t many books that truly captured the camaraderie I felt from the dwarven ethos. So, I decided to write my own! A story about short legs, big hearts, and livingrge. Filled withughter, found family, brewing, brawling, and the plink of pickaxes.


    Beers and Beards is the culmination of many years of ying as dwarven fighters, drinking beer on the beach, and watching Lord of the Rings on re-run. Whether you love dwarves, want to learn about brewing, or are just in the mood for a fun fantasy jaunt, I invite you to join me inughing, crying, and loving every minute of life. Come on, we¡¯ve got an adventure brewing! You can get it through these links:


    Kindle: /amazon/B0CC6CFVRT


    Grab the 20 Hour Audiobook on Audible: /pd/An-Adventure-Brewing-Audiobook/B0CHK2JCJW


    If you don¡¯t want to/can¡¯t buy a copy, you can still help! Reviews and Ratings on Amazon will REALLY help me right now, and the nice thing is that you don''t need to buy the book to rate or review. (keeping in mind that anything below a 5 on amazon basically is a downvote because their ratings skew up) So, if you could please jump on the link and do that, it would be amazing!


    I don''t normally like to ask; but reviews especially can make a huge difference. If every reader here on RR leaves a review, I''d be one of the biggest books on Amazon! Hah!


    A download on kindle unlimited helps too, if you have it. And it makes the algorithm like the book more.

 Book 2: Chapter 34: The Verdict Is In

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 34: The Verdict Is In</h4>


    Two hourster we were done with the entire nerve-wracking experience. Whistlemop got bandaged up, the admin team moved to the office, Penelope finally calmed down after her fourth drink, and everyone else got to racking stouts.


    All three tanks of them.


    My random percentage batch hadn¡¯t turned out very good, and Penelope had spurned it after a single sip. The first two batches she¡¯d drunk with glee, and thest batch of wheat-free coffee stout had been eptable as well. If anything, she¡¯d liked it more.


    After the fiasco that had been her first drink we¡¯d wrapped her up in nkets before continuing. She¡¯d still kicked and bucked and gone ballistic, but the nket had kept her from doing¡­ <i>that</i> to anyone else. Poor Whistlemop. He was currently sipping hot tea in the corner of the office and twitching.


    A collection of Thirsty Goat tankards sat on the table. Annie, Copperpot, and myself stood in a ring and examined them suspiciously. Unlike the Ass-ster Ale nobody was in a hurry to drink them.


    ¡°Is it because she¡¯s a goat, or because the drink is dangerous?¡± Copperpot murmured.


    ¡°Goat.¡± Annie and I intoned at the same time.


    Annie followed up, ¡°Dad used [Check Quality] on it, so we know it¡¯s safe to drink.¡±


    Copperpot shook his head. ¡°Pot Corporation has a lot of experience with that Ability. It¡¯s not infallible. It''ll tell you if it¡¯s poisonous, but not if it¡¯s <i>dangerous</i>. That requires an upgraded version.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t know that.¡± Annie said in surprise.


    ¡°If you¡¯ve only been using it to check the quality of your brew, you wouldn¡¯t. We often try new teas from various dungeons around Erd, so we run into the Ability¡¯s limits quite often,¡± Copperpot exined.


    ¡°It¡¯s my recipe. I¡¯ll do it.¡± I reached out for the wheat-free stout tankard.


    Annie grabbed my hand. ¡°Are you sure, Pete?¡± Her eyes bored into mine, the worry in them clear.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. If there¡¯s one stat I¡¯m proud of, it¡¯s my vitality!¡± I squared my shoulders.


    ¡°Ah, you have it over twenty, at your young age? Good, good.¡± Copperpot smiled. ¡°I¡¯ve nearly maxed my intelligence. It¡¯s most clear in my memory and when multitasking, though I still like my old notepads. It¡¯s a habit..¡¯


    ¡°Uh¡­ sure.¡± I nced at my character sheet. It was, in fact, only 19, though the [Blessed] condition was boosting it to 23 for the rest of the year.


    Whistlemop stirred in the corner and shivered. ¡°If he starts rolling his eyes and making squealing noises, I¡¯m gone.¡±


    Annie and Copperpot both took a step back.


    ¡°Rx, I have more self control than a <i>goat</i>!¡± I said in mock indignation.


    They didn¡¯t look convinced.


    I lifted the beer to my nose and took a deep sniff. The scent of coffee mixed with the pungent earthy scent of dwarven brew filled my nostrils. It was sharp, but not unpleasant, and kind of reminded me of my favourite coffee stouts from back on Earth. There was a definite <i>musk</i> to it that came from being made with erdroot, and the foam on top was thicker than I was used to.


    I dabbed a finger into the ck bubbling liquid and gave it a lick; the stout tingled on my tongue, and had a caramelly aftertaste. That meant the calcium carbonate and acid rest had done their job. Stout could very easily be highly acidic, which would result in burnt tangy notes. The aftertones were closer to a nice french-roast or chocte coffee bean. I¡¯d need to take a full drink to really appreciate it though.


    I raised my tankard in a toast. ¡°For Crack and Minnova, and Gnomish Brew.¡± Then I took a big gulp.


    The beer was smooth going down, with that thick, chewy feeling that came with a good stout. Itcked the creamy texture I associated with nitro-stouts like Guinness, but I would get to that eventually. The carbonation was definitely improved, and I was more than willing to give it an ¡®eptable¡¯ rating. It wouldn¡¯t be perfect until we had sealed tanks, but at least there <i>was</i> some fizz.


    The taste was a mix between a cold-brew coffee with zero sugar, and the rancid vour of True Brew. The nostalgia and yuck factor made for an interesting juxtaposition. <i>Yuckstalgia</i>, perhaps? Like a direct to Netflix version of my favourite childhood IP; it wasn¡¯t vomit inducing, just a horrible mockery of everything I ever loved. I really hoped Copperpot found it eptable. Because I didn¡¯t.


    Ah well, at least it was something <i>new</i>. Perhaps the wheat stouts would taste better, not that I was going to brave the runs by trying them. I¡¯d leave that to Copperpot, or whichever grad student he sacrificed for science. Animal testing may not be allowed at the University, but in my experience grad testing was A-OK in every University of the multi-verse.


    Other than that, there was nothing special about the drink.


    ¡°Penelope drank a significant amount before her¡­ incident.¡± Copperpot theorized.


    ¡°Fiiiine, I¡¯ll drink the whole thing.¡± I chugged the rest with a *glug*, *glug*, *glug* and was immediately greeted by a pair of notifications.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Condition Gained: [Energized]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>You have gained the [Energized] Condition!</i><i></i>


    <i>Your Perception and Agility are increased by 4 for the next hour.</i><i></i>


    <i>Your Dexterity and Intelligence are decreased by 6 for the next hour.</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: More Brews Part 1/5!</strong><i></i>


    <i> Invent eight new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i> Drinks Invented: 5/8</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Strength.</i>


    I felt a sudden buzzing in my head, and almost pitched over as my neurons seized up while my body went into overdrive. I bleated. The colours in the room sharpened, and I was assaulted with stimuli. The lights were <i>too bright, </i>the sound of Whistlemop mming the door behind him was <i>too loud</i>, and Annie¡¯s touch on my shoulder was <i>too hard</i>.


    ¡°Pete, are you okay?¡± Annie screamed into my ear.


    I shook my head to clear it. It was like drinking three red bulls after an all nighter. Then following it up with benzos and beer. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I got a Condition.¡±


    ¡°Truly? Excellent! Condition granting food can be quite valuable depending on the Condition and the stats affected.¡± Copperpot had his notepad at the ready. ¡°Just making sure though, no sudden desire to enact horrific acts upon any nearby gnomes?¡±


    I took a step in Copperpot¡¯s direction, and gave my best zombie impression. "Braaaiiinns!"


    Copperpot jotted a note. "Ah, so it impacts wisdom, and possibly intelligence. No wonder that goat went crazy; she likely dropped into the negatives."


    Annie shook her head. "No, that''s just what Pete''s always like."


    "Truly? You have my condolences."


    I ced a hand to my heart. "Owch. The Condition is called [Energized]. It gives me a bonus four to perception and agility with a negative six to intelligence and dexterity."


    "That''s nearly identical to caffeine. Does it have a simr sensation?" Copperpot asked.


    I put up a hand, then stared at it while flexing my fingers. "Aye. Hold on a tick, Caffeine affects stats? I''ve never noticed that on my sheet."


    "Yes. One of the more important projects toe out of the University this millennium was the cotion of so-called ''hidden stat adjustments''. Some drugs, diseases, or enchantments can impact your stats at a minimal, but noticeable, level. Caffeine increases perception and agility by roughly one to two points. Too much caffeine gives the same [Energized] Condition."


    Annie added, "beer reduces wisdom, perception, and agility by one. Too much gives the [Drunk] Condition."


    "Not that there''s any amount a dwarf could consider ''too much''!" Copperpot jibed, and he and Annieughed together.


    I continued staring at my fingers. ¡°Does it change your charisma?¡±


    Copperpot snorted. ¡°Just your perception of it! HAH!¡±


    I looked around the room. There were <i>so many colours</i>. ¡°Makes sense. Is the room vibrating for anyone else, or just me?¡±


    Whistlemop stuck his head back through the door. "Is it safe?"


    "Yes,e on in." Copperpot chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to reenact the horrors of your earlier exotic experience.¡±


    Whistlemop gotfortable on the sofa again. "It''s not <i>funny</i>."


    Copperpot gave a *phsaw* gesture. ¡°It¡¯ll be one of those stories you¡¯ll tell in a century andugh.¡±


    Whistlemop glowered. ¡°Oh, really? You¡¯d look back on it andugh?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯d die of embarrassment.¡±


    ¡°Yearn take your soul to the Nether.¡±


    ¡°Now is NOT the time for this.¡± Annie grumbled. ¡°Pete, how was it?¡±


    I stuttered as my reduced dexterity made fine motor control difficult. ¡°T-tastes fine. As fine as dwarven brew possibly can. This is actually the closest I¡¯ve gotten to feeling b-b-b-buzzed since our opening party.¡± It was probably the best beer I¡¯d had on Erd so far, not that that meant much. I was suddenly <i>extremely</i> d this thing didn¡¯t reduce wisdom, or I may have waxed poetically about Earth alcohol right there in front of the two gnomes.


    Copperpot and Whistlemop eyed each other. Then Copperpot grabbed hold of one of the wheat stout tankards. ¡°Well, the damn goat drank it, and if Pete was going to get any weird Conditions he would have already. No Pot will be called a coward; I¡¯m going in!¡±


    Then he tossed the tankard back and took an enormous gulp. He swished it around a few times, his cheeks bulging like some kind of beanied, mustachioed chipmunk. His eyes widened, and he lifted the tankard to stare at it. He swallowed, and gaped.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ marvelous! Pete, you¡¯ve outdone yourself! I asked for something incredible and <i>this is it!</i>¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: More Brews Part 1/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>You¡¯vepleted your first new beer. More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i> Invent eight new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i> Drinks Invented: 6/8</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Strength.</i>


    ¡°That good?¡± Whistlemop eyed another tankard critically.


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing! It tastes like an extremely unique ck coffee going down, but the carbonation gives it a body more simr to an espresso creme. It reminds me a bit of burnt caramel espresso, actually. The fizz is <i>delightful</i>, much better than any other True Brew I¡¯ve tried. The taste is sour, but there¡¯s just enough sweetness to take away the bitter vour of whatever¡¯s in there. ¡± He gave me a nce.


    ¡°I dunno. Only Jeremiah and Annie know what¡¯s in the damn bittering agent.¡± My nose began twitching and I grabbed it with both hands then began furiously pawing at it. IT ITCHED!!


    ¡°Trade secret, even from subsidiaries. You¡¯ll be provided with the necessary materials but not told what they are.¡± Annie said with practiced ease. ¡°So, does it meet your standards?


    In answer, Copperpot drained the rest of his tankard.


    Annie and I gave each other triumphant smiles. Wow, she had a <i>massive </i>mole on her neck, how had I never noticed that before?


    Copperpot popped open his notepad and took a few more notes. ¡°No Condition for me, but I wasn¡¯t expecting one.¡±


    ¡°Whazzat? Why?¡± I tripped a few times over my tongue.


    Whistlemop spoke up as he sipped at his own tankard. ¡°Gnomes are resistant to the effects of stimnts.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we have a more developed endocrine system than other races. Some consider us¡­ twitchy, and high energy, but it reduces the effect of things like caffeine. I¡¯d put this beer at roughly equal to¡­. a quadruple espresso. Depending on cost, it may be a <i>very</i> efficient way of getting blitzed.¡±


    ¡°For the dwarves in the back, that means an energy high.¡± Whistlemop took a bigger gulp. ¡°Oooh, this <i>is</i> pleasant. I think it needs a bit of cream though.¡±


    I choked. That idea was going to need to die inmittee.


    ¡°Or some lemon?¡± Copperpot nodded. ¡°I can test it. But this is a truly excellent base.¡±


    ¡°Sooooo?¡± Annie and I leaned forward.


    Copperpot twitched his moustache. ¡°Can you do the same with tea?¡±


    ¡°Possibly. It¡¯ll take more time though.¡± That was true. It was also true that the answer was absolutely yes. Tea usually tasted better in a porter than a stout, though. Thankfully the burnt umber erdroot seemed to be dark enough that if I could get it <i>properly </i>malted it might make a good porter. I wouldn¡¯t know until I tried though, and four test vessels just wasn¡¯t enough.


    ¡°You have a deal!¡± Copperpot held out his hand. Whistlemop tried to put his hand in as well, but Copperpot shoved him aside. ¡°To our partnership, and the first Gnomish Brew!¡±


    ¡°For Crack and Minnova!¡± Annie dered.


    I shook Copperpot¡¯s hand. ¡°For Beer!¡±


    The other three gave each other amused nces, then shouted in unison. ¡°FOR BEER!¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 35: Barista Brew

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 35: Barista Brew</h4>


    Whistlemop looked down at the remaining full tankards. ¡°So¡­ what do we call it?¡±


    I grinned wickedly. ¡°I know <i>exactly</i> what we¡¯ll call it.¡±


    Annie gave me a concerned nce. ¡°And what¡¯s that? Is it better than <i>Ass-ster</i>?¡±


    I began ¡°It¡¯s beer and coffee, so -¡°


    ¡°<i>Barista Brew</i>.¡± Copperpot interrupted with a note of finality. ¡°Simr to True Brew but different enough to differentiate it.¡±


    ¡°But -¡°


    ¡°No¡± Annie said, crossing her arms. ¡°Barista Brew is perfect.¡±


    ¡°But, <i>Beerfee</i>-¡±


    ¡°Oh, absolutely <i>not</i>.¡± Copperpot hissed.


    ¡°What about -¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± Annie and Copperpot both shouted at once.


    ¡°Whistlebrew?¡± Whistlemop said quietly, and was ignored.


    I sighed and gave up the point. What I REALLY wanted to call it was a variation on Four Loko. Like <i>True Loko</i>, or something like that. Four Loko was one of the most popr caffeinated beers back home. At least, it had been until the Canadian government banned the sale of energy drinks mixed with alcohol. Something about stopping hearts, and being unreasonably popr with teenagers. Ah well, maybe I could name the dwarven version something else. Hopefully Annie wouldn¡¯t realize that we hadn¡¯t named it until toote.


    ¡°And you should think of a name for the dwarven version too.¡± Copperpot mentioned.


    Annie looked struck. ¡°I would have forgotten. Thank you, Copperpot.¡±


    ¡°Damn yer¡¯ high intelligence.¡± I grumbled.


    Copperpot gave a grandfatherly smile. ¡°Well, I do want to see my business partner seed after all.¡±


    That¡¯s right. We were now business partners with one of thergestpanies in Minnova, if not Crack. Haha! Things were looking up!


    Except for poor Whistlemop who looked extra dejected. He may have sniffled.


    ¡°Buck up Whistlemop,¡± Copperpot said. ¡°We¡¯re going to need <i>someone</i> to provide the ss for all the Barista Brew we¡¯re going to be selling.


    ¡°There is that!¡± Whistlemop immediately brightened up. ¡°And I have something that may appeal to you!¡± He leaned in to whisper in Copperpot¡¯s ear. I strained my nicely-high perception, but wasn¡¯t able to catch much. If those two were making ns together, everyone else would need to look out.


    Annie and Copperpot eventually got down to the nitty gritty of the business deal. There was a lot of stuff that was heavily based on reading between the lines of dwarvenw and toeing the line on tradition, so I bowed out. My lessons with Richter were continuing abreast, but I was still a ways off from understanding all the nitty gritty as well as a native. Plus, Richter had a recent obsession with studying the origins of spirit and how it rted to the soul and other nes of existence. It was making me <i>ufortable</i>.


    Whistlemop left at the same time, wobbling away on unsteady legs to go munch on scones back at his Main Street store. That left me alone on a work day with nothing needing my immediate ownerly attention.


    So I went to go use [Refine Brew] on bottles of stout as they were bottled, like somemon <ibrourer</i>. It was a monotonous task, made more bearable by the cheerful banter of the other staff. Moony and Markus told witty jokes, and only asionally made angry pointed noises about their backs. Richter and Johnsson started a soap fight while cleaning inside one of the fermentation tanks, which abruptly ended when Zirce and Emma closed the lid on them.


    The tanks were surprisingly soundproof. We could barely hear their angry shouts.


    ¡ª


    Copperpot and Annie took until after the pub closed toplete the specifics. I was cleaning the kitchen with Bran when they finally arrived, eyes beaming, to tell me it was done.


    ¡°It¡¯s done!¡± Copperpot said.


    ¡°Mostly done.¡± Annie corrected. ¡°You still need to give him the list of ingredients.¡±


    ¡°I can do that.¡± I wiped my hands clean of some grease and gave Bran a cheery wave. ¡°Enjoy!¡±


    ¡°Bah! Hey, you, [Engineer]! Can you make me an enchanted somethin¡¯-or-other that¡¯ll do the dishes for me?¡±


    Copperpot raised his eyebrows and made a *hmm* sound. ¡°That would be difficult, but¡­ I could see it being possible.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine somethin¡¯ like a magical washer of dishes would ever be popr.¡± I bald-faced lied. ¡°Let¡¯s go to yer new facility, Copperpot. Annie should see it, and I can give you the recipe there.¡±


    ¡°I heard from Pete that it¡¯s huge. And¡­ ¡®amazeballs¡¯ as he put it.¡± Annie snorted.


    Copperpotughed out loud. ¡°You certainly have a way of turning a phrase Pete.¡±


    ¡°Lemontwist can do the dishes, Bran.¡± I said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that why you hired her?¡±


    ¡°Nah, she¡¯s busy with prep for tomorrow. I¡¯ll just make Aqua do it; she¡¯s still skulking about fer snacks.¡±


    There was a rapid pattering of feet in the back of the pub followed by the alley door mming.


    ¡°Aright, you¡¯re on dish duty, Lemontwist.¡± Bran finished. The young gnomess groaned.


    Copperpot and I headed to the door, and Annie followed after.


    ¡°Can Ie too?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡± Copperpot nodded. ¡°As our senior partner you should really give it your okay.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but watch out for assassins on the way.¡± I said nonchntly. Copperpot sighed.


    To Annie¡¯s credit, her voice barely quavered. ¡°What?¡±


    Copperpot spun his beanie as we walked out into the crisp night air of Minnova. Although the temperature didn¡¯t actually change at ¡®night¡¯, so it was really just more of the slightly warm moist that it always was. ording to Balin there was an actual ¡®sky¡¯ in the dungeon, and I was getting tempted to do a dungeon dive with him sometime just to experience it. I was beginning to miss blue skies and clouds as much as I missed chocte.


    ¡°Pete is referring to a problem I¡¯m having with the Mine Corporation. They would be very happy to see this venture fail, and until it is up and running everyone involved is in a spot of risk.¡± Copperpot exined.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll stay home¡­.¡± Annie looked around, nervously. ¡°Gnomish Corporate Combat can get a bit¡­ dicey.¡±


    ¡°And slicey!¡± Copperpot agreed. ¡°Nearly as bad as the old n Feuds used to get. It¡¯s all illegal now, of course, but¡­ gold is gold.¡±


    ¡°Corporate Combat?¡± I asked.


    Annie nodded. ¡°Just like the ns, gnomish corporations had major disagreements crop up from time to time. CC is corporate espionage with literal death squads."


    I shivered, imagining megacorps from games like Cyberpunk. It gave a whole new meaning to the corporate phrase, ¡®I¡¯ll CC you¡¯. ¡°Did they change it to be like the codified Feuds?¡±


    Copperpot gave an angry snort. ¡°No, we wish. Country of Crack Ordinances, Volume 1, Section 128 puts firm limits on what we can do. I¡¯m afraid gnomes are limited to applying the old iron hammer ofmerce. Many of my fellows chafe at that. If dwarves are allowed to Feud, we gnomes should still be allowed some version of our historical form of bloody politick. All thew really does is make the fighting more covert.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of which, did you hear about the march on the capital?¡± I said, remembering my earlier conversation with Sam. ¡°Respecting the rights of gnomes seems to be one of the major issues.¡±


    Copperpot frowned. ¡°Yes, the board of directors brought it to my attention. They think it¡¯ll fail, but¡­ I do spend a lot of time around students. They talk. I think it¡¯ll be bigger than anyone expects. I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t have the time to go there, what with the mine transfers and now Barista Brew¡±


    ¡°If you can¡¯t go yourself, you could always just sponsor them.¡±


    ¡°What would you rmend?¡± Copperpot asked offhandedly.


    A year immersed in dwarven business had my hackles up immediately at his tone. ¡°Hmmm¡­. I think I¡¯ll keep that to myself. And Whistlemop, I guess. Since giving him business lessons is part of our agreement. You¡¯ve never heard of sponsorship?¡±


    Copperpot ground his teeth. ¡°Why would you<i></i>tell that rainbow suited <i>fop</i>, but not me!?¡±


    ¡°It''s a long story, but it all starts with a false moustache¡­.¡± I began, regaling them with apletely falsified and embellished story of how I cornered and then kidnapped Whistlemop. There were more evil monsters and daring rescues and less hitting about the head and goat assaults in this version.


    The story continued for a solid half-hour while we walked. The main reason for the tall tale was to help Annie calm down, and she eventually stopped jumping at every passerby. I trusted Copperpot when he said that being near him was the safest ce to be. I¡¯d seen what his gadgets and Abilities could do against the Stoneants.


    I brought the story to a close as we approached the gnomish brewing warehouse. ¡°And then Balin sacrificed himself by holding the temple up with his moustache.¡±


    ¡°While Whistlemop descended from the sky bedecked in rainbows with wings made of cloud and slew the ancient goat horror?¡± Copperpot said incredulously.


    ¡°And you rescued the fair dwarven maid with the perfect pink pleats and enormous breasts?¡± Annie finished, a faint sneer creeping into her tone.


    ¡°Aye. Oh look, we¡¯re here!¡±


    The warehouse was quite a bit more imposing at night, with all the lights off. Annie even took a step back, assassins clearly on her mind.


    ¡°No need to be concerned. We have guards.¡± Copperpot pointed to an upied guard booth and a trio of armoured gnomes that gave a salute as they circled the building past us. ¡°I¡¯m not taking any chances with this. Now,e on inside.¡±


    We followed Copperpot around the facility as he, frankly, showed off. All of his fermentation tanks were of my newer metal style, and he had twice our brewing capacity. Unlike most dwarven architecture, the warehouse was quite tall, and without all the workers it felt incredibly empty. It actually reminded me a lot of the old Beavermoose Brewery after all our workers had gone home and I was left alone filling out paperwork until 2AM.


    ¡°And these are our crates of wheat and erdroot.¡± Copperpot finished, pointing to a dozen enormous crates. Each one was the size of a carriage, and they were all pushed up against the wall next to a closed delivery bay. ¡°They were delivered this evening in preparation for tomorrow. I didn¡¯t want to dy things for even an instant.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed, Copperpot.¡± Annie murmured. ¡°You had a lot of faith in Pete that this was going to work out.¡±


    ¡°The world of business often requires some risk for the greatest reward. Pete was right that this enterprise is about a lot more than gold. Selling the first gnomish beer could cement the Pot name in history for all time.¡± Copperpot drew himself up proudly. ¡°And it appears that it will pay off!¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s making your coffee?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think Joejam has the capacity for this much.¡±


    ¡°One of our own cafes will handle it. We tore apart the dining room and there¡¯s several hundred gallons of cold brew steeping in there at this very moment. They¡¯re just down the block, so transport won¡¯t be an issue.¡±


    ¡°Well Copperpot, you¡¯ve got this all well in hand.¡± Annie spit on her hand and held out her beard. To Copperpot¡¯s credit, he barely twitched as he reached out and shook. ¡°May Aaron Bless our enterprise and Tiara bring us gold. Our Beards Are Joined, Our Words are One.¡±


    ¡°Our Beards are Joined, Our Words are One. It¡¯s a pleasure doing business with you Madam Goldstone.¡±


    Annie nodded, then shuddered. ¡°Now, can we head back home? This ce is giving me the creeps. Especially with Pete¡¯s talk of <i>assassins</i>.¡±


    ¡°Next to Copperpot is the safest ce in all of Minnova, Annie. Besides, if it makes you feel better, my [Minimap] will let me see anyoneing.¡± While speaking, I mentally toggled the map to track ¡®people¡¯ again. I normally kept it off because the bunched up poption of Minnova made the map pretty much worthless. In a warehouse like this it would make anyone sneaking up on us pop out like a sore thumb. ¡°See? We¡¯re -¡°


    Directly in front of us, four dots appeared inside the crates on my minimap.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Deadly Ambush Part 1/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve been ambushed! Defeat your attackers or live long enough for help to arrive!</i><i></i>


    <i>Time Remaining: Variable</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker¡¯s in: 0/4</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Agility, +0.2 Perception</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    My voice died as my heart jumped up and blocked my throat. I did my best to stay nonchnt as I epted the quest, but couldn¡¯t keep my voice from cracking as I continued, ¡°- all good. I think Annie¡¯s right that we should head home. Busy day tomorrow.¡± I backed up, frantically making throat cutting gestures at Annie and Copperpot.


    Copperpot gave me a confused look, but Annie caught on almost immediately. She flung Copperpot over her shoulder in an attempt to run away. Before she could take more than a single step, the first crate burst open and a ck clothed gnome covered in wheat dove at Copperpot with a dagger. Three more crates shattered and theher broke loose.

 Book 2: Chapter 36: Mine, all Mine

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 36: Mine, all Mine</h4>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Deadly Ambush Part 1/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve been ambushed! Defeat your attackers or live long enough for help to arrive!</i><i></i>


    <i>Time Remaining: Variable</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker¡¯s in: 0/4</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Agility, +0.2 Perception</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I swore as I hit ept and ducked under a thrown dagger. These guys were NOT messing around. Rather than run further, I dove <i>towards</i> Annie and Copperpot. My decision proved wise as Copperpot shouted ¡°[Safety Shield]!¡± and a grey dome of energy sprang up around us. Our first attacker bounced off the shield and nimbly flipped in the air tond on their feet. A volley of daggers followed after, each *spanging* off the shield in turn.


    ¡°You know, you don¡¯t need to shout your Abilities out loud.¡± I panted.


    ¡°Shaddup.¡± Copperpot pulled a stone out of his pocket and held it to his lips. ¡°Guards, we¡¯re under attack in the warehouse,e fast. Both of you, get ready.¡± He said thest while pointing to Annie and me.


    There was a *tsk* from the four ck robed gnomes surrounding us, and they vanished before my eyes. Wait, no, my [Minimap] indicated where they were, and with its aid I could just make out their translucent forms as they nked us. My brain kept telling me there was nothing there; it felt like forcing my mind to ept something it knew wasn¡¯t real, like an optical illusion or one of those stupid see-ing eye puzzles that I was never able to do as a child. It must be Yearn''s [Nothingess] Blessing, or an upgraded version of it.


    Annie dropped Copperpot and began shouting. ¡°<i>ACTUAL</i> [ASSASSINS]!? GODS DAMN YOU BOTH!! I SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME!!¡±


    Copperpot grunted as a vial smashed onto the dome above us, spilling sizzling liquid. Droplets oozed down the side of the forcefield and where theynded the ground bubbled and popped. ¡°That¡¯s not good. Dome is down in four seconds. Guards should get here in less than a minute. Stay close to me. Pete, are you able to see them?¡±


    I pointed, and Copperpot spun his beanie. I activated [sh of Insight].


    A few things happened at once.


    Copperpot¡¯s shield dropped and the pale green liquid rained down on us. A massive gust of wind screamed from Copperpot¡¯s whirling beanie and blew the acid away. It sprayed indiscriminately around the room, and one of the gnomes behind us fell back holding his face and screaming. A few flecksnded on my armor and I watched with horror as the metal sizzled and melted. To my relief the liquid boiled away a momentter, leaving scored metal.


    Copperpot flicked his finger while shouting ¡±[Arc Welder]!¡±, and white hot fire sliced through one of our attackers, promptly separating them into two.


    Had¡­ had I just watched someone die? I felt my stomach turn, but there was no time to think about it.


    Five daggers were already in the air, but they were blown away in the gust of wind. Another three followed an instantter. My [sh of Insight] saw theming and told me what to do.


    One dagger tunked into Copperpot¡¯s chest, but <i>everyone</i> wore armour down here.


    Annie swore as I kicked her feet out from under her and a knife whizzed past her nose.


    I thought <i>[Flesh of Stone]</i> just in time for thest dagger to punch a bare millimeter into my neck before ttering to the ground.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Updated: Deadly Ambush Part 1/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve been ambushed! Defeat your attackers or live long enough for help to arrive!</i><i></i>


    <i>Time Remaining: 35 seconds</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker¡¯s in: 2/4</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Agility, +0.2 Perception</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Condition Gained: [Poisoned: Minor]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>You have gained the [Poisoned: Minor] Condition!</i>


    The world went dark, but I could still see the [Minimap] in my subconscious. When I¡¯d first used [Flesh of Stone] I¡¯d been left in a dark world, so the added outside perception was nice. Two red dots indicating living ambushers rocketed across the room towards Copperpot ingnomishly fast; probably a [Charge] Ability of some type.


    One of the red dots immediately flew in the opposite direction then blinked out.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Updated: Deadly Ambush Part 1/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve been ambushed! Defeat your attackers or live long enough for help to arrive!</i><i></i>


    <i>Time Remaining: 32 seconds</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker¡¯s in: 3/4</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Agility, +0.2 Perception</i>


    The third paused on top of Copperpot¡¯s dot as my Ability ended and I could move again. Thest standing Titled [Assassin], if that <i>was</i> what they actually were, happened to be the one who¡¯d attacked us first. He was wrestling with Copperpot in a puddle of Copperpot''s [Lubricate]. Copperpot screamed as a dagger buried into his hand, but in return a spike sprang out from his chest armour and pierced into the shifting mass of colour that was his attacker. Blood oozed from both, but their desperate grapple continued.


    Annie was running for the door we¡¯de in from, having made the decision to flee now that the majority of our attackers were dead. Or maybe not; she grabbed a bottle from a nearby rack and tossed it at the final [Assassin]¡¯s head. They vaulted backwards in an impossible feat of gymnastics, dodging the bottle, and Copperpot stumbled away.


    The [Assassin] swung his de in an arc that I recognized as an evolved form of my own [Basic sh].


    Copperpot¡¯s body twisted to the side as though pulled by invisible strings; a [Dodge] Ability.


    The Assassin¡¯s footnced out in a practiced, flowing, follow-up, andnded on Copperpot¡¯s torso. Copperpot flew across the room and into a fermentation tank. He bounced off the metal with a decidedly ugly *THUMP* sound and fell to the floor. The Assassin rushed at his prone form, but was forced to stop by a deluge of ss as I joined Annie in tossing bottles. Almost contemptuously, the shifting figure dipped and dodged, and emerged from the sharp rain unscathed.


    <i>Time Remaining: 20 seconds</i>


    Copperpot stirred on the ground, and rolled an Aetherstone across the floor onto the puddle of lubricant. It ignited and spewed noxious ck smoke into the warehouse. Copperpot and the [Assassin] were suddenly separated by a wall of fire. Copperpot pulled himself into a seated position with a groan, blood dripping down his forehead.


    There was a brief pause as the two red at each other over the licking mes. Then, with a flicker of movement, more green liquid arced over the inferno and onto Copperpot.


    ¡°[Neutralize], [Move Furniture].¡± Copperpot said with a note of finality as the acid sshed over him. And then the ENTIRE GODDAM FERMENTATION TANK behind him <i>flung</i> across the room and smashed into the [Assassin].


    There was a *CRASH!!!!* and the screech of tearing metal. Dust and debris exploded around the room and Annie yelped with pain. It was impossible to see through the dust, but in my [Minimap] the red dot of the [Assassin] fled as a dozen other dots descended on our position.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Deadly Ambush Part 1/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Pathetic performance. But hey, at least you''re alive!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.2 Agility! Your new Agility is 12.2!</i><i></i>


    <i>Gained 0.2 Perception! Your new Perception is 18.4!</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Deadly Ambush Part 2/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Find the bastards that dared to try and kill you. Make them pay!</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker Unmasked: 0/1</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker in: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Perceive Ambush]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    My vision went red as I mentally hit <i>Yes</i>. ThEy woULd PAy!!


    ¡ª


    The guards formed a ring around us while one of them wrapped a bandage around Copperpot¡¯s hand. Not that he seemed to need it, as his skin was already nearly stitched back together. A couple were finishing extinguishing the fire.


    ¡°Ah, truly we must thank Barck. Without [Regeneration] more of our curious inventors would surely have killed themselves throughout history.¡± Copperpot muttered while staring at his bloody hand. ¡°Pete, were you poisoned as well?¡±


    ¡°Aye, but it says ¡®Minor¡¯.¡± I was still feeling¡­ shocky? Maybe? This whole night felt surreal, like I was watching a movie. A bad movie, where every second I was being forced to watch it made me angry and antsy. I was probably going to have nightmares for years.


    ¡°Is your Vitality over 18? If so, [Regeneration] will keep you from keeling over. No need for an antidote. It¡¯ll help train your Vitality.¡±


    ¡°What about you, Copperpot?¡± Annie asked, a note of worry seeping into her voice. ¡°You, uh, don¡¯t look very good.¡±


    Indeed, ck veins were running up Copperpot¡¯s arm from the cut on his hand. <i>Pulsing </i>ck veins that were slowly creeping towards his chest. His skin was white and waxy, and he was tipping over.


    ¡°Ah yes. I¡¯m going to die in a few minutes.¡± Copperpot closed his eyes and sighed. ¡°I have the [Fatally Poisoned] Condition.¡±


    ¡°Then why aren¡¯t we running for the nearest [Healer]!?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way that we¡¯ll get to a [Healer] or [Toxicologist] with an antidote in time. Additionally, we don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve been poisoned with, and I don¡¯t want to run out into an ambush.¡±


    Annie was hyperventting. ¡°This is crazy! You¡¯re crazy! I can¡¯t believe I almost <i>died </i>to gnomish [Assassins]! Why can¡¯t you just battle each other in the field like decent folk! And now you¡¯re just sitting here waiting to die!?¡±


    ¡°And how did yer guards not catch them?¡± Iined. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t they have been, I dunno, checking every shipment that came in here?? Someone should be fired. Out of a cannon. Oh, and I¡¯m miffed that you didn¡¯t better exin the sheer <i>magnitude </i>of these ¡®Gnomish Assassins¡¯ you¡¯ve been alluding to. What if they¡¯d attacked me or Annie somewhere else!?¡±


    Copperpot shifted, then coughed. He wiped his lips. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have gone after you. You''re dwarves. Those were <i>highly </i>Specialized stealthbat operatives. Likely [Toxic Assassins] based off of the [Rogue] Title. They¡¯re Blessed by Yearn and Lunara and have an advanced form of [Nothingness] called [Emptiness] that allows them to avoid detection and fit in ces you wouldn¡¯t normally expect them to. I admit, I wasn¡¯t expecting to fight <i>four</i>. That represented a significant amount, if not <i>all</i> of someone¡¯s elite fighting force. They went all in. Idiots.¡±


    I sneered. ¡°How in tha Nether do a bunch of killers have tha Blessing of the Goddess of Law and Order?¡±


    ¡°Loyalty and dedication to a creed or greater authority.¡± Annie replied. ¡°It¡¯s actually easy to get Lunara¡¯s Blessing if you do it right. Why are we discussing this!? Copperpot, can we do anything for you?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a cannon?¡± Copperpot hacked and wheezed. ¡°Tell a dying old gnome?¡±


    Annie¡¯s face was drawn and haggard, but I rolled my eyes and said, ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing. You¡¯re way too nonchnt about this, and you¡¯ve been <i>expecting</i> something to happen. There¡¯s no way you don¡¯t have a way to deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Ah, pity. [Tool Bag].¡± Copperpot pulled a glowing bottle out of nowhere and drank it down. The ck veins on his arm immediately receded, and his skin quickly grew rosy again.


    ¡°<i>git</i>.¡± Annie swore, with quite a bit more <i>vehemence</i> than usual. I added the word to my growing list of dwarven swears.


    ¡°If it makes you feel better, that Panacea potion cost more than this entire enterprisebined.¡± Copperpot gestured around the room. ¡°It represents a serious loss, and is almost impossible to rece.¡±


    ¡°Yer life is worth it.¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ arguably.¡± Then he smiled, wickedly. ¡°However, three dead elite enemy operatives <i>more</i> than outweighs the cost of <i>any</i> potion. All I lost was money tonight, but an enemy lost loyal and powerful assets. Tonight, someone became <i>weak</i> and <i>vulnerable</i>.¡±


    ¡°The Mine Corporation.¡± I hissed.


    Copperpot nodded. ¡°Most likely. Now, one moment. [Major Repairs].¡±


    And with that, the fermentation tank righted itself and was rapidly made whole. It was in the wrong spot, and the floor was still scorched and pitted, but in a few seconds it was as though the metal tank had never been damaged.


    ¡°You, send for our carpentry crew, and you, run to Pot Manor and tell my father what happened here. We need to strike back while the iron is hot.¡± Copperpotmanded a pair of junior guards, who saluted and ran off.


    ¡°Is anyone gonna tell me who I can hit after I¡¯m done smashing in Copperpot¡¯s knees?¡± Annie asked sweetly. She waszily swinging a long wooden stir stick in one hand. ¡°Are you sure it was the Mine Corporation?¡±


    Copperpot took a hesitant step back. ¡°They¡¯re the only ones desperate and <i>stupid</i> enough to throw away resources like this. But then, I really don¡¯t think they were here for us. I think they were going to destroy the building with those acid bottles. You forced their hand, Pete. They must have had an Ability that notified them that you¡¯d spotted them and changed their ns. Honestly, Corporate Combat is not usually¡­ this over the top. How <i>did</i> you do that, by the way?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°An Ability. I¡¯m not telling you more than you deserve.¡±


    Copperpot shrugged back. ¡°I suppose I deserve that¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, you deserve <i>far</i> worse.¡± Annie said, and hit him in the knees with her stick.


    While she chased Copperpot around the room and the guards considered whether or not they should intervene, I walked over to where a pool of blood sat on the floor. I stared at it, thinking of my new quest.


    ¡°Hey Copperpot, is there a way of finding someone with their blood?¡± I eventually asked.


    Copperpot waddled over, wincing in pain. ¡°Yes. A Titled [Hexer] could. However, that¡¯s a banned Title and I honestly don¡¯t know one.¡±


    I hrmed. ¡°Can I have some tea?¡±


    ¡°I already have a pot going. Are you thirsty, or just needing somefort, like me?¡± Copperpot groaned.


    ¡°It¡¯ll definitely make me feel better.¡±


    A guard soon brought over a pair of teacups, and I reached down to dip my finger in the blood on the floor. Then, to Copperpot¡¯s horrified surprise, I dipped said finger into my tea and stirred. Then took a sip.


    ¡°What - what are you <i>doing!?</i> I¡¯ve heard some dwarves revel in the blood of their enemies, but you never struck me as the type, Pete!¡± He choked.


    ¡°I¡¯m making a soothing tea. And <i>intentionally </i>adding an extra ingredient.¡± I said offhandedly, and took a sip of the tea. My attention was on my [Minimap], where the filters listed every ingredient I¡¯d ever used. I spun through them, until I reached a brand new entry - Gnomish Blood: <i>Ambermine</i>. My vision turned red as I flicked it to <i>On</i>.


    GOt YoU, ASsHOle.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Updated: Deadly Ambush Part 2/2</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Find the bastards that dared to try and kill you. Make them pay!</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker Unmasked: 1/1</i><i></i>


    <i>Attacker in: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Perceive Ambush]</i>


    I took another sip of the tea, victoriously, then my eyes widened as I came to my senses. I spat an atomized spray directly into Copperpot¡¯s face. ¡°Agh!!!! That¡¯s <i>disgusting!¡±</i>


    Copperpot screamed and pawed at his eyes. ¡°MY FACE!! THIS IS <i>NOT A </i>SOOTHING TEA!!!¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 37: The Red Rage

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 37: The Red Rage</h4>


    ¡°You can¡¯t just go to the Guard with this, Pete!¡± Copperpot held my arm as I tried to leave the warehouse.


    ¡°Why not? ThEY TriED ta <i>KiLL mE</i>!¡± I barely kept my voice below a shout. Every single thought that passed through my mind was wArPEd and tinged with red. I was gradually bing more and more furious at the whole situation.


    When Copperpot had warned me about hit-squads, I¡¯d figured it would be something like my little job on Whistlemop. A shakedown and a warning, maybe a light bit of threatening and some broken kneecaps. I¡¯d taken to walking around in groups, and had always been sure to stay to stick to main roads, just in case. I hadn¡¯t imagined super-death-ninjas like something out of a manga.


    ¡°Because the unwritten rule of modern Corporate Combat is that you <i>don¡¯t</i> get the guard involved! Right now we have an opportunity to hit them back, but if you go to thew, that all goes out the window! And it would <i>ruin </i>the Pot name amongst the rest of the gnomish oligarchy!¡± Copperpot dug his heels in.


    I threw him off. He may have had much higher stats than me but it was clear that he hadpletely abandoned his strength score. That was probably the biggest cheat from my quests, they gave me bonuses to stats I didn¡¯t normally use. Given enough time I might hit max in all of them, while the average person didn¡¯t evene close to max in one.


    I took a deep breath and tried to find my center. I felt like I should have been horrified, I¡¯d just watched some people die! But all I could see was the red mist. Think calming thoughts, Pete. Think calming thoughts. ying catch with Sammy, drinking a fresh ale, sitting under a waterfall, gutting Ambermine. I hissed, ¡°Fine. I won¡¯t go to tha city, then. But I¡¯m not goin'' to sit back and take this Copperpot! You do things your way, I¡¯ll do it mine.¡±


    I turned around and walked out, mming the door behind me. Copperpot¡¯s face was chalk white, and he looked afraid. Of me? Annie followed close on my heels, her eyes wide.


    ¡°Pete? You need to calm down.¡±


    ¡°<i>Calm down</i>?? Annie, someone just tried ta kill us! You were even angrier than me! Where did all tha'' wrath go!?¡±


    Annie grabbed my arm and spun me around. I almost decked her. Her voice was full of worry as she held my arms in ce. ¡°I admit I dipped into the Red a bit, but you¡¯re falling hard. Pete, you¡­¡±


    Annie looked around, clearly concerned about being overheard where we were. A valid worry since there were apparently <i>gnomish super ninjas</i>.


    She continued with a whisper in my ears. ¡°Dwarves can fall to something called the <i>Red Rage</i>. It¡¯s what makes [Berzerker] such a popr and effective Title for us. It¡¯ll increase your Strength and Agility, but turns you into a blithering idiot over time. Up till this point, those of us in the knew figured you were immune, but you¡¯re clearly feeling its effects. And you have no experience ying hitball as a child to temper your Rage. You need to <i>calm down</i>.¡±


    I looked down at my hands. They were shaking, and something was seeping from beneath my nails where they gripped my palms. I absently rubbed fingers, remembering the taste of Ambermine¡¯s blood in my tea.


    I growled, ¡°well maybe I need a bit of that viciousness, Annie. It seems like I¡¯ve been a bit too easy goin''. First Browning, now the Mine Corporation. I¡¯m sick of gettin'' messed with. Balin had tha right idea, we need to be so Godsdamn strong that nobody dares step on our shadow!¡±


    ¡°And Balin threw himself into the mouth of horror so that you didn¡¯t have to!¡± Annie snapped back. ¡°Do you think he would be happy? Knowing his brother is degenerating to some basic blockhead? Do you think I would be happy? That I wouldn¡¯t rather have Balin doing carpentry at the Goat and spending time with him every evening? What do you think <i>happens </i>to dwarves that give in to the Red Rage? Do you think <i>anyone </i>at the brewery would enjoy a dark and angry version of Peter Roughtuff? We may scoff at your awful puns, but that¡¯s who you are! A jokester and a wiseguy, a hard worker and steadfast friend who can spend hours going on and on about alcohol. Don¡¯t you dare lose that!¡± She stared at me with hurt, and fear, and anger.


    I felt like I¡¯d been punched in the gut. My mind swam with memory, and it was sharp as broken ss


    ¡ª


    Sammyughed as I juggled the ball,unching it from foot to knee and then headbutting it into the air.


    ¡°Daddy! You¡¯re doing it wrong!¡±


    ¡°What? I¡¯m passing! Isn¡¯t that what we¡¯re supposed to be doing?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to pass it to <i>me</i>!¡±


    ¡°What!? But I¡¯m so much closer! Why would I pass it all the way over there, silly goose?¡±


    ¡°Come oooooon, pass it!!¡±


    My little girl was five years old, and we were practicing long distance passes at the park. She was wearing her brand new ser outfit, proudly disying her mother¡¯s painstakingly stitched name and number for all the world to see. It was unspeakably cute, and horrifically expensive - seriously, HOW MUCH for a child¡¯s uniform?


    ¡°You want a pass? I don¡¯t think you can handle the heat!¡± I chest trapped the ball and then booted it.


    It flew right over her head, her outstretched hands barely brushing it.


    ¡°Hand ball!¡± I shouted.


    ¡°NO FAIR!¡± Sammy ran as Iughed. The ball continued to roll on the dead summer grass. The past few years had been much hotter than usual, and the local parks were pretty desated. The ball kept hopping and skipping, traveling further than I was used to - directly towards the road.


    ¡°Sammy, slow down! Wait for the ball to stop!¡± I called.


    Sammy didn¡¯t stop, she was focused on catching the ball. Each step carried her closer to the busy road. Our PAC had beenining to the city about putting in a fence for years.


    My body pumped me full of adrenaline and I moved faster than I ever had in my life. The entire time, I screamed, ¡°Sammy! STOP!!!¡±


    I scooped Sammy up into my arms just before she ran into traffic. A truck ran right over her ball, popping it. She squawked in indignation, more at the loss of her ball than her near brush with death.


    I yelled at her then. Real, angry, shouting full of worry and fear and shock. I vented my helpless anger on my little girl for a full minute. That ball could have been her, popped like a balloon under two-tons of death.


    I never forgot that day, or the look on her face when the adrenaline finally wore off.


    Those wide eyes full of pain and betrayal.


    ¡ª


    Annie looked at me like that now.


    We stood in silence for a minute. She was tall, for a dwarf, and I had to tilt my neck up to look at her this close. Slowly, the red in the corners of my vision receded and I felt like myself again. I still felt¡­ surprisingly little guilt or horror at the deaths we¡¯d just witnessed. Everything felt a little unreal at the moment though, so maybe I¡¯d get hit with itter?


    I spoke up. ¡°Annie, your world is really violent.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t deny that. Was yours not?¡±


    ¡°You know¡­ I think it was. I was just privileged enough to be separated from it.¡± I rxed my shoulders and tried to let it go like a snow princess. Slowly, the red in the corners of my vision receded and I felt like myself again. I still felt¡­ surprisingly little guilt or horror at the deaths we¡¯d just witnessed. Everything felt a little unreal at the moment though, so maybe I¡¯d get hit with itter?


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Stat Increased: [Wisdom]!</strong>


    <i>Your Wisdom has increased by 1! Your new Wisdom is 15.4!</i>


    I coughed. ¡°So¡­ I shouldn¡¯t go axe the gnomes some cutting questions?¡±


    Annieughed, a hoarse chuckle full of released tension. ¡°No, that would be a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°I should crush them with the iron fist ofmerce?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s probably a better n.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll release Barista Brew in a couple weeks and then Copperpot can use the spare time to handle things..¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll re-join the Brewer¡¯s Guild and use its influence to pressure the Mine Corporation further.¡±


    ¡°Yes! You¡¯ve got the idea!¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll ask Drum to arrange a kidnapping and <i>then </i>enact horrible unspeakable tortures?¡±


    ¡°Yes - wait, what? No!?¡± Annie gasped.


    ¡°I heard ¡®<i>Yes¡¯</i>.¡±


    ¡°NO!¡±


    ¡°Toote! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!¡±


    ¡°Be serious! We just almost <i>died!</i>¡±


    She kicked me in the shin, and we walked back to the Goat. With a set of guards wemandeered from Copperpot, of course.


    ¡ª


    ¡°CONGRATULATIONS!!!!¡±


    Upon our return we were greeted at the front door of the Goat¡¯s foyer by a party. Aqua showered us with confetti while Bran held out a massive cream cake. It had ¡°Barista Brew¡± written on it in some kind of dark paste. Sesame or poppyseed I guessed. Lemontwist stood at his side, her eyes full of stars. Then Balin jumped out from behind the door, wrapping Annie up in a hug as she yelped. Kirk was holding a sign above everyone that said: ¡°Congrattions on the First Gnomish Brew!¡±


    I almost [Basic shed] someone right out of the gate, and Annie actually twitch-punched Balin in the face. Everyone elseughed, but it was actually hriously <i>unfunny</i> given the circumstances.


    Zirce and Emma lifted me into the air over their heads and began to parade me around the room while Richter and Johnsson hooted and hollered. Moony and Markus were nowhere to be seen, but they were probably in bed at this time of the night. Same with John and Jeremiah.


    I tapped Balin on the back of the head as we passed by. ¡°Brother! It¡¯s good to see you!¡±


    Balin came up for air and gave me an enormous smile. ¡°Pete! I got some more stuff for ya!¡±


    ¡°Later!¡± I shouted as I was carried away.


    ¡°Balin! What are you doing here? I thought you were in the dungeon at least another day!?¡± Annie managed after she calmed down enough to realize she wasn¡¯t being attacked.


    ¡°Aqua used amstone ta let me know tha Pots said yes. I had ta be here.¡± Balin dipped Annie down and kissed her fiercely. She kissed him back, then reached up to pull on his moustache. Zirce and Emma put me down and the party atmosphere rapidly turned awkward as the two of them started desperately smooching in earnest. I understood, and reached for the only woman in the room that could handle my need for skinship right now.


    *MEEEEHHH!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°What is this!? Unhand me, varlet!¡±


    ¡°Hush Penelope, I need this.¡± I whispered as I desperately hugged the goat close. She pulled away from my too-fierce grasp at first, then calmed as I shivered against her white floof.


    *Bleh?* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Are you well, my dwarfservant?¡±


    ¡°Whooo! Go Pete and Penelope!¡± Aqua shouted, pumping her fist, then her face turned stricken. ¡°Wait, why are you two so tense?¡±


    Aqua¡¯s new [Hypnotist] Title included the ability to sense emotions. Between spotting lies and telling how you were feeling, she was eventually going to be someone¡¯sst boss of ex-girlfriends.


    I was torn between ruining the festive atmosphere or letting everyone have a good time. The possibility of another attack by Ambermine was remote, but it would be a good idea to batten down the hatches until Copperpot gave us the all clear.


    ¡°Listen everyone. This is important.¡± I waited until I had everyone¡¯s full attention. Annie had gone from kissing Balin to just holding him tight, and he was beginning to look worried. ¡°We were just attacked by [Assassins] at Copperpot¡¯s warehouse.¡±


    Zirce and Emma screeched, then everyone began asking questions at once. I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of it, so I held up my hand to ask for calm. ¡°We¡¯re fine. Copperpot drove them off.¡±


    ¡°I hope he did more than THAT!¡± Johnsson said, with a surprising amount of viciousness. Or¡­ now that I knew a bit more about my own penchant for violence, perhaps it was actually an <i>appropriate</i> amount of viciousness.


    Annie looked up from Balin¡¯s beard long enough to say. ¡°He killed three of them, and drove the fourth off.¡±


    The mob gave a raucous cheer.


    Kirk went to close the front door. ¡°I¡¯ll batten the hatches.¡±


    Zirce and Emma headed for the back of the pub. ¡°We¡¯ll check the alley and lock up the back doors.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got knives enough for everyone in the kitchen.¡± Bran headed to the pub with Lemontwist on his tail.


    Johnsson went for the brewroom. ¡°I¡¯ll do a sweep, Richter youe with me.¡±


    Richter followed after, though he stopped long enough to grab our spare axe from under the counter.


    Balin put Annie down and activated his [Golden Armour] ¡°Ya don¡¯t need to worry. You¡¯ve got Balin o¡¯ Goldenlight here ta keep you safe!¡±


    Annie and I spent the rest of the evening hiding behind the front counter, munching on cake and shooing Penelope away. Everyone gave us space, except for Balin, who asionally checked in to make sure we were still okay.


    We waited there until morning. There was no sunrise to break the night with the revealing light of dawn. The dark purple sky remained the same as always, an alienndscape that I clealry still didn¡¯t fully understand.


    *Bing*


    <strong>Condition Lost: [Poisoned: Minor]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>You have lost the [Poisoned: Minor] Condition!</i>


    *Bing*


    <strong>Stat Increased: [Vitality]!</strong>


    <i>Your Vitality has increased by 1! Your new Vitality is 20!</i>


    Huh, Copperpot was right. The poison hadn¡¯t affected me at all. Heck, I''dpletely forgotten about it. Oooh, could I eat raw cookie dough guilt free now?

 Book 2: Chapter 38: The Emerald Lake

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 38: The Emerald Lake</h4>


    The next morning we received a message from Copperpot that our building was ¡°Being Surveilled" by his own Corporate Combat team. And they would ¡°Provide Discrete Security¡± whenever Annie or I left the building. Which didn¡¯t really help my anxiety.


    But that was neither here nor there, because I now had ''<i>get my own freaking gnomish ninja squad</i>'' on my bucket list. Maybe I could arrange something with Whistlemop for our partnership.


    On that note, I idly wondered if Berry already had her own, or if anyone had bothered to tell her yet. She was getting big enough that it was probably relevant. Then again, I¡¯d been busy immersing myself in dwarven culture, so maybe she had learned about it right away as a gnome. Oh, and I really needed to brush up on my basic dwarven anatomy before I got blindsided with another quirk of biology. Maybe I really <i>should</i> let Annie give me that little talk on the elves and the trees.


    With Copperpot on board and hispany ready to announce our partnership, that put us right on track for our meeting with the Brewer¡¯s Guild in¡­. freaking two days. Yeesh!!! We were cutting it close, and if the Mine corporation managed to sabotage us even the slightest, we wouldn¡¯t make it.


    Balin padded over with a big yawn. ¡°I¡¯m goin¡¯ ta bed soon, Pete. I need some shuteye. Before I go, I got some more stuff fer ya. We''re through Darkwood, and we hit tha Emerald Lake. Nasty ce. None of us can swim, so we¡¯re goin¡¯ round it.¡±


    He shivered, and dropped a sack on the ground beside me. ¡°Here¡¯s what I was able ta get. Most of it is still from Darkwood, but I got summa tha fish, nts, and monster parts from thake.¡±


    I took the bag and opened it up. Balin had the forethought to individually wrap stuff in oilskin this round, so the bag wasn¡¯t quite as¡­ <i>squelchy</i> as the first time. ¡°Thanks Balin. I¡¯ve been meaning to ask, how do you get back to where you were? I can¡¯t imagine you¡¯re trekking in each time. Is there a [Discer] on retainer?¡±


    ¡°Naw, Minnova built warp gates at most o¡¯ tha major hubs. Ya¡¯ got to prove you can make it to them before you can use em, though.¡±


    ¡°Like the ones in the capital, that go to the human and elvennds? How do they justify the cost?¡± I¡¯d learned about those fascinating pieces of transportation during my lessons with Richter. They were incredibly expensive to maintain and use, so they generally only went to the capitals of the various kingdoms. I¡¯d been disappointed to learn that they were so controlled that warp travel was practically banned. Only approvedpanies or certain noble families could use them. If I wanted to easily bring my beer to the rest of the world, I was going to need to find a way to get that approval. Another problem forter.


    ¡°Cost isn¡¯t an issue in tha dungeon. The high ambient mana down there keeps tha gates workin¡¯ on their own,¡± Balin answered.


    ¡°Why doesn¡¯t anyone connect all the dungeons to each other?¡± I mused.


    ¡°Dunno. I¡¯m not an [Artificer].¡±


    I began rifling through the bag. It was once again twigs, mushrooms, leaves, and the asional organ. In addition, there were a couple slimy fish - one looked like a trout, and the other a trout with <i>legs</i> - some slimy weeds, a fuzzy purple crab, some kelp, and a clear rubbery skin of some kind.


    I began flicking my ingredient filters on and off. I¡¯d reduced the number of active items on my Minimap after the attack, and currently only ¡®People¡¯ and ¡®Gnomish Blood: Ambermine¡¯ were active.


    I yawned as I flicked ingredients on and off. I was getting pretty tired myself, and I was going to need to -


    I stopped dead as a dot appeared on my minimap right beside me. I immediately whipped my head around looking for gnomish super ninjas then breathed out a sigh of relief as I realized It wasn¡¯t a person - the dot was too small. Then that breath caught in my throat.


    ¡°Balin!¡± I choked. ¡°<i>BALIN!!</i>¡±


    Balin immediately went on high alert, grabbing his shield and axe. ¡°What is it!? I donnae sense anythin¡¯ with [Perceive Ambush]!¡±


    I began throwing organs across the room. ¡°Not that! One of these is <i>isinss</i>!!!¡±


    Balin lowered his arms. Of both kinds. ¡°Whazzat? None of it¡¯s ss.¡±


    As I tossed the rubbery skin across the room, the dot on my minimap sailed away. I shrieked with joy as I ran to pick it up, which of course caused the entire brewery to descend on our position with weapons at the ready. There was a confused jumble as everyone looked around for the enemy.


    ¡°Pete!¡± ¡°What¡¯s goin on!¡± ¡°Who you want me <i>kill</i>!?¡± ¡°Where¡¯s the ambush!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see anyone!¡±


    ¡°IT¡¯S FINE, it¡¯s fine!¡± I waved my hands. ¡°We¡¯re all fine, don¡¯t worry about it. Balin just got me the best <i>present EVAR</i>!¡± I held the strip of skin aloft for everyone to see. My worries and fears of the previous night were briefly forgotten; I could collect them with interest when I slept,ter.


    ¡°You think that¡¯s the best present? I need to get you out more, Pete.¡± Kirk said with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Godsdamn, I thot we were about ta die.¡± Richter moaned.


    ¡°All worked up and nothin¡¯ to hit.¡± Johnsson sighed, his tone¡­ <i>polite</i>.


    ¡°We could smack <i>you </i>instead?¡± Zirce and Emma told him in unison.


    ¡°So, why all the fuss?" Annie asked. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s just some¡­ whatever that is.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s isinss. This stuff is, uh - I¡¯ll tell youter. After I do some research.¡± I looked around at our audience. Half of them rolled their eyes.


    ¡°Awe on. I want to hear what it does!¡± Aquained. ¡°It¡¯s more interesting now that - ¡° Her mouth snapped shut, like her lips had been zippered. She made some *mmf* *mrf* noises then stopped talking. ¡°Never mind,¡± she finishedmely.


    For her Titled Milestone Ability she¡¯d chosen [Keep Secrets]. Her reasoning being that nobody was going to trust a gossip with their heart and soul. As a result she was now incapable of identally revealing information told to her in confidence, and it would prevent Abilities or ¡®methods of coercion¡¯ from doing the same. It was a nearly necessary Ability for any [Counselor], [Hypnotist], or other rtionship based Title.


    She¡¯d known herself well, given that she¡¯d almost casually revealed my own secret. I gave her a death re and she wilted, mouthing ¡®sorry¡¯.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell <i>everyone </iter. This stuff is going to help us win the brewing contest.¡± I held it aloft to snorts of disbelief. ¡°Balin, where did you get this?¡±


    Balin squared his shoulders and began proudly, his tiredness briefly forgotten. ¡°Well, let me tell ya¡¯ all about it. It all started when we got outta Darkwood and first saw tha Emerald Lake¡­¡±


    ¡ª


    ¡°Formation four everyone,¡± Starshine whispered, ¡°and leopard check.¡± The party spread out quickly, each of the melee fighters - Manny the ss-mantis, Starshine, Balin, and Raysdotter - taking the point of an imaginary four sided diamond. Raydotter shed [Inner Light] from her spot in the center, and Flowerpott stood guarding her with his mace and round shield at the ready.


    The steady light stood in contrast to the flickering shadows beneath the dark greenkewater; the algae kept the rays from prating more than a centimeter. The edge of the Darkwood stood a mere hundred meters or so away from the shoreline, and Balin kept a wary eye out for any lilyleopards or treants that might be prowling there. He steadied his stance and groaned as his feet sunk into the guck. The ground they stood upon was a horrid mixture of silt, y, and <i>stink</i>. Bones and bits of shell crunched beneath his steel shod boots, and a tiny multi-wed purple crab covered in moss skittered over his toes before he shooed it away. It hissed bubbles at him and retreated into the water where it instantly vanished.


    Balin shivered. His [Golden Armour] was marred with muck, and water kept seeping into the joints.


    ¡°All clear. Formation two.¡± The party moved into a rough circle and Manny¡¯s insectile body vanished back into the darkness. The golem would patrol around them and check in periodically. Up above them, small ssfly golems spread out over theke and into the trees.


    ¡°Why are we doing this at night??¡± Flowerpott groaned. ¡°There¡¯s a perfectly nice blue sky up there during the day. I thought we were <i>done</i> with dark now that we were out of Darkwood!¡±


    ¡°All the most valuable monsters are active at night,¡± Starshine replied. ¡°And we¡¯re uniquely suited to fighting in darkness. We have two stealth capable members, and a mage that can strip hiding based Abilities. We can surprise monsters but they can¡¯t surprise us.¡±


    ¡°And ya¡¯know, all it cost us was several months of bein¡¯ ambushed every damn day!!¡± Raysdotter chuckled. ¡°So let¡¯s take advantage of what we earned.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, don¡¯t remind me. I love my new Ability, but I¡¯m not shure the Milestone was worth it. Really, ambushed ova¡¯ eighty times! I thot I¡¯d lose my maind!¡± Aishablueined, her South Erden ent growing stronger as she grew heated.


    ¡°It¡¯s why people adventure. You get new Milestones out here faster. That means more Specialisations and more chances to evolve your Abilities. That also means more chances to be rich and famous.¡±


    ¡°And more chances to <i>die</i>.¡± Flowerpott grimaced.


    There was a ssh from deeper out in the water where Aishablue¡¯s light didn¡¯t reach.


    ¡°I hate this ce even more than the Darkwood. It stinks and my sses keep getting slime on them.¡± Flowerpott grumbled.


    Raysdotter scoffed. ¡°At least <i>you</i> don¡¯t need to get into the water, eh!¡±


    Aishablue frowned. ¡°My [Dangersense] is going off, but it <i>always</i> goes off this close to theke; I can¡¯t swim. What about [Perceive Ambush]?¡±


    Balin shook his head. When they¡¯d received the ¡°Ambushed!¡± Milestone he¡¯d chosen that particr Ability. If there was one person you didn¡¯t want getting caught t-footed, it was the party guardian. ¡°I donnae sense anythin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, one of my ssfiles just pinged me. It¡¯s out on theke. Over¡­ there!¡± Flowerpott pointed deeper into the cid water. While it was ostensibly a ke¡¯ it was practically a sea. It stretched out nearly as far as Minnova¡¯s cavern, and it would take them at least a week or so to walk around. Boats could be bought near the warp gate, but they were expensive, and traveling <i>over </i>the water was significantly more dangerous; the biggest things were in the middle of theke.


    There was another ssh out in the water. Ripples flowed through the algae like it was mud, making squelching sounds as they hit the shore. The crab from earlier ran back ontond, skittering towards the trees before it hid under a rock. A rancid stench followed, carried on a foul wind.


    ¡°I¡¯ve a bad feelin¡¯¡­¡± Balin muttered.


    ¡°[Dangersense] is spiking!¡± Aishablue whispered.


    Starshine stepped forward. ¡°Right, formation five everyone!¡±


    Aishablue immediately began painting a sigil in the air, her wand tracing bright blue lines.


    ¡°[Mental Command: Manny], argh! Midna¡¯s Mullet, now you lot have me doing it too!¡± Flowerpott swore.


    ¡°[Encourage: Agility], [Minor Blessing: Move in Aether], [Shadowcloak].¡± Raysdotter moved away from the group and slunk into the darkness, which embraced her like a well-worn jacket.


    Balin set his shield and raised his axe, staring out over the increasingly agitated water of theke. Their surroundings had lost the constant *pop* *pop* of ms venting air, and the only sound was the discordant thwap of waves on the shore.


    ¡°Steady.¡± Starshinemanded. ¡°Steaaaady.¡±


    Aishablue finished her sigils with a flourish. ¡°Spell¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡°Wait on Balin.¡±


    Slowly, the ripples died out and theke returned to its cid, calm state. But after over eighty ambushes, nobody was fooled.


    Aishablue held her wand on the sigil, which had begun to shake as she pushed more mana into it. ¡°[Dangersense] is still spiking.¡±


    Starshine spoke without taking her eyes from the water. ¡°Do you see anything with the ssfiles?¡±


    ¡°[Basic sseye]... no, just a bunch of weeds.¡± Flowerpott shook his head.


    ¡°AMBUSH!¡± Balin roared and closed his eyes.


    Aishablue unleashed her spell, flooding the space around them with white hot light. She activated her new Ability at the same time. ¡°[REVEALING LIGHT]¡±


    When Balin opened his eyes again, their enemy was revealed. The Ability had stripped away whatever natural or monstrous camouge it was using, giving it a slight blue aura - like a thin skin of moonlight.


    It was a monstrous jellyfish, with tentacles made of squirming kelp. Each tentacle was at least thrice Kirk¡¯s giant height, and it¡¯s bulbous white body was as wide around as a Darkwood tree. A horrific stench wafted from it, like abination of dead fish and unigoat shit. It burbled, and attacked.


    ¡°[Challenge], get over here ya foul beastie!¡± Balin roared.


    Two green tentacles snaked out of the water and grabbed hold of his ankles. Then it <i>heaved</i>.


    ¡°AHHH!! NOT LIKE THAT!!¡± Balin fell onto his back and dug his axe into the silt. He skidded to a stop a mere handspan from the now roilingke water.


    ¡°[Basic Charge]!¡± Starshine rocketed past him, her [Juggernaut] Abilities granting her great speed even while fully encased in te mail. She brought her warhammer down on the jellyfish¡¯s body, and clear goo sttered all over her and Balin.


    Balin shouted, ¡°Captain! I need ta¡¯ hit it first!!¡± But the damage was done.


    The jellyfish thrashed its tentacles in obvious pain and distress, and four of them wrapped around Starshine as she raised her warhammer up to make another strike. She brought it around in a [Basic sh], but a green kelpy limb caught the weapon in mid swing.


    Then another tentacle pulled her feet out from under her and she disappeared beneath the surface. The jellyfish returned to ignoring her and focused back on Balin, sending three more tentacles his way. He shed them apart with his axe.


    Then, Raysdotters was there, her body slipping through the water like an eel. She drove her spear into the rubbery body, impaling it through. At the exact same moment, Manny appeared in front, and its twin sickles sliced apart the tentacles holding Starshine. With a buzzing of wings, the ss golem jumped back into the darkness.


    Starshine tried to rise, but her heavy armour was keeping her down. Balin swore and drove forward into the water. Another swath of green oily tentacles hammered down at him but he met them with his shield and [Basic Block].


    ¡°Come on, Captain. Not gonna let ya drown in yer own armour!¡± As the Jellyfish focused on the long shaft of wood driven through its core, Balin lifted an arm under his fallen leader. She rose out of the muck sputtering and hacking, every inch of her stained the same emerald green as theke.


    ¡°I hate this ce.¡± She grumbled, then smashed her warhammer onto the jellyfish once more. It shuddered, then died.


    ¡ª


    ¡°So, what was it?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°Somethin¡¯ called a Corpsejelly. They mostly eat dead bodies, but if they get real hungry they¡¯ll attack stuff on the shore.¡±


    ¡°And Pete wants to put it in the beer!?¡± Johnsson gasped, aghast.


    I hugged the sheath of rubber close. But not too close. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­. ask Jeremiah to check it with his Ability and talk to Alchemist ck. People eat disgusting things all the time. Have you ever thought about where goat¡¯s milk or eggs actuallye from?? And have you <i>seen </i>those pickled kippers that Balin and Jeremiah eat!?¡±


    There was general assent to Balin¡¯s protest.


    Pickled kippers were definitely more foul than the rubbery flesh of a jellyfish corpse monster.

 Book 2: Chapter 39: Last Minute Preparations

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 39: Last Minute Preparations</h4>


    Balin and I went with Annie to nap at the Goldstoneplex. We were greeted at the door by the friendly whistles of Georgie, and a burly axe wielding Jeremiah. He promised to keep watch to Annie¡¯s obvious relief; it looked like she still subconsciously trusted her pa. I had a note sent to Copperpot then crashed and burned - hard.


    After a short rest I spent the afternoon running around looking into my new ingredient.


    I now had the go ahead from Jeremiah that the material was safe for consumption, corroborated by Alchemist ck.


    With some discussion and experimentation, ck and I had found an efficient way to melt the Corpsejelly flesh into liquid isinss using some monster acids. Citric or Tartaric acid weremonly used on earth, but monster acid was more readily avable down here. I preferred liquid isinss to the dried and powdered version, so getting it working so quickly was a happy break.


    Finally, I was able to find a local supplier of Corpsejelly - a gnomish dungeon supplier who was about to be quite a bit richer. This stuff was going to be my secret weapon for the brewing contest, one that nobody could hope to match.


    All the hard work and theorizing hade with a wee notification.


    <strong>Stat Increased: [Intelligence]!</strong>


    <i>Your intelligence has increased by 1! Your new intelligence is 15!</i>


    My sleep that night was fitful, and I kept jumping up to write down notes or check my minimap.


    I was awoken by furious knocking at my bedroom door. I flung myself out of bed and fell t on my face, at which point Jeremiah kicked down the door.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got someone here to see you!¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Go get Annie to do it. I almost died the other night!¡±


    ¡°So did she. Get up or I¡¯ll toss you out there nekkid!¡± He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for me.


    I blinked blurry eyes a few times then stood to unsteady feet. I should start keeping a bottle of Barista Brew in my pocket for emergencies.


    I pulled on some basic chainmail and in linen clothes; the dwarven equivalent of sweatpants and an undershirt then made my way to the door. I brushed my beard with my pocketb as I walked, and grumbled. I didn¡¯t need more surprises. Our meeting with the Brewer¡¯s Guild was <i>tomorrow</i>.


    As we passed through the central square of thepound on the way to the front door, I was struck by a thought. I detoured to a wooden que hanging on one of the walls. Arge two-handed warhammer sat on two prongs, and the brass namete read ¡®te Goldstone¡¯. The double-sided weapon was made of a greenish metal I didn''t recognize. The haft was wrapped in leather, and the head was emzoned with the goat emblem of the Goldstone n. One face was scoured with marks from where a powerful acid had eaten away at the metal.


    "It was my father''s. You can borrow it if it''ll make you feel better." Jeremiah said from behind me.


    "Are you sure?"


    "Aye, what''s the point of a n weapon if you don''t use it to protect your n?"


    I pulled the weapon down and hefted it. It felt¡­ right, held within my meaty fists. Warhammer at the ready, I hummed a little ¡®Danger Zone¡¯ as I went to see who had disturbed my beauty sleep.


    A very haggard and upset looking Copperpot stood at the front door, nked by Lillyweather and a pair of guards.


    By all tha Bits of the Gods, what now?


    I gave Lillyweather a small smile and she returned it after a beat. Then I turned to the orchestrator of my rude awakening. ¡°What¡¯s up, Copperpot?¡±


    ¡°Pete, can wee in? We need to discuss something.¡± He had rings under his eyes and twitched when he spoke. He probably hadn¡¯t slept muchtely either.


    ¡°Do you promise that you aren¡¯t being followed by anything¡­ ufortable?¡±


    ¡°Not to the best of my knowledge.¡±


    I rested the warhammer on my shoulder and waved him and Lillyweather in. The te armoured gnomish guards followed after, and to their credit, didn¡¯t scream when Jeremiah loomed over them with his big battleaxe.


    ¡°Weapons stay at the door,¡± he growled. The two looked to Copperpot who gave a bare nod, and they deposited their swords and shields and daggers and various other weaponry on the front door¡¯s weapon rack.


    I led on to the den, and plopped down on a plush armchaIr. It was too early in the morning for this¡­ ¡°Okay, talk to me. Have you found Ambermine yet? Destroyed the Mine corporation?¡±


    Copperpot¡¯s face was wan. ¡°No, none of that. We¡¯ve made good strides in other directions now that theirbat capability has been greatly reduced, but it''s hard to say exactly how much impact we¡¯ve made. Ambermine is currently holed up in Mine Manor, as is Diamondmine, so we can¡¯t touch them. Are you sure it was him?¡±


    ¡°As I said in my letter, yes. I''m positive. If you haven¡¯t managed to crush ¡®em yet, why are you here?¡± I pulled at my beard in agitation.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad news I¡¯m afraid, with the increased cost from paying thebat teams for double time, and the precarious situation the Mine corporation has put themselves in, liquidity has be an even bigger issue. The Pot family board of directors wants me to cease funding for the Gnomish Brew initiative and pour our capital into a hostile takeover.¡±


    I blinked. Then my vision went red and I considered smashing my warhammer through the coffee table. Knowing what was happening, I pulled my emotions back with some difficulty. I was still seething, but it felt like normal garden variety outrage.


    ¡°We¡¯re so close! Literally only <i>one day</i> away from bringin'' the entire scheme to tha Brewer¡¯s Guild. That¡¯s <i>idiotic</i>!¡±


    ¡°Short term profit over longer term gains can be an unfortunate feature of business decisions.¡± Copperpot nodded. ¡°Simply put, my funding is gone, and I can¡¯t go to the bank for more loans at the moment. I won¡¯t have enough to pay the workers at the nt or get enough ss for bottles, let alone properly sell any resulting beer. It will kill theunch.¡±


    ¡°So you came to me.¡±


    Copperpot nodded. ¡°You must be making good profit on Boomdust and your partnership with Whistlemop. I¡­ would like to ask for a cash infusion. To be paid back with interest, of course.¡±


    I considered it. I did have a lot of gold at the bank at the moment. And if this meant Copperpot¡¯spany could focus on CrUsHiNG ThE MInE CoRPOraTiON¡­ *phew* All the better.


    ¡°You have my attention Copperpot, but I want to do this right. We¡¯re ying this as a ¡®Subsidiary¡¯ but at the end of the day you¡¯re just paying us for ess to the bittering agent and brewing techniques. Paying me back isn¡¯t enough. I want more. I want <i>shares</i>.¡±


    Copperpot blinked a few times. ¡°I¡¯m happy to share what we make Pete.¡±


    ¡°Consider this your lucky day! Whistlemop had to pay me fer this, but I¡¯m goin'' to give it to you for free-ish. After a few oaths and promises, of course.¡± I spit on my beard and held it out. My [Friend: Gnomes] Ability was saying not to do that, but screwit; he could deal.


    Copperpot regarded my hand with distaste, then shook.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Publicly Traded Part 1/3</strong>


    <i>Why keep it all in the n or family? Convince someone to sell shares of their business to the public and own at least one percent! </i>


    <i>Percentage of Shares Owned: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Charisma</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    Yes / No


    Obviously I epted.


    The history of the stock market is actually something that a lot of brewers end up learning about. Ale had a long and storied history alongside the first publicpanies, all running back to the Dutch East India Company. The DEIC was created in 1602, and any denizen of the then United Provinces of the Nethends could buy shares in it. This made it the very first publicly tradedpany, and the stock could be bought in regr open air markets - thergest of which eventually became the Amsterdam Stock Market.


    The DEIC went on to be a massively sessful force in East Asia, mainly in the spice, tea, and ve trades. All the while, the drink of choice for sailors and merchants was of course - ale. Theter British East Indiapany was a mere shadow of the DEIC, which remained hegemonic in the East Indies until thete 1700s when it copsed beneath its own weight.


    Copperpot was skeptical of my description at first, but roughly halfway through an exnation on ¡®going public¡¯ and ¡®dividends¡¯ his jaw dropped. Then he ran out of the building to talk to his family board of directors.


    Later that night I went to the bank to transfer arge amount of gold to the newly minted ¡®Pot Public Corporation¡¯.


    I epted the quests that followed with a *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Publicly Traded Part 1/3</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>How does it feel owning a piece of history?</i>


    <i>Gained 0.2 Charisma! Your new charisma is 16.4!</i>


    <strong>New Quest: Publicly Traded Part 2/3</strong>


    <i>Why stop with one? Take control! Own 51 percent of apany!</i>


    <i>Percentage of Shares Owned: 5/51</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.4 Charisma, +0.2 Intelligence</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    Yes / No


    There were a lot of Titled [Lawyers] involved, and the actual specifics would take weeks to hammer out, but in the meantime my gold could go to where it would be useful.


    Brewskis.


    And destroying my enemies.


    ¡ª


    And then it was B day.


    I adjusted my good suit armour, and Annie did up her own fancy gambeson. Aqua double checked us both and nodded.


    ¡°You two look great! Are you ready for this?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°They had <i>better </i>let us back in, or I¡¯m going to tear down the whole damn guild!¡± Annie made kicking motions, and I stepped out of boot reach.


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep the animosity down until we¡¯ve explored all other options, okay Annie? Promise?¡± I asked intively.


    Annie snorted and promised nothing. She looked in a mirror and re-tied one of her blonde beard pleats.


    Our meeting was scheduled for noon at the Brewer¡¯s Guild in the Grand Market. We were to present our case, and then the guild would vote. Annie had been hard at work convincing those that we could sway with words alone, and it had paid off.


    <strong>Active Quest: Guildsman</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Get into the Brewers Guild! Do you have what it takes to get enough members on your side? </i><i></i>


    <i>Members Persuaded: 6/16 Dwarves</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Thick Skin]</i>


    I really hoped the wording of the quest meant I¡¯d receive the reward as long as we hit the magic majority of nine; I seriously doubted we would be able to sway all sixteen.


    ¡°Why are we doing this in the beer garden anyways? I would have thought the guild would be all in on dark holes in the ground. ¡®Deep secret ces of the world¡¯ and ¡®the traditional domain of the dwarves¡¯ and whatnot. Not that I¡¯mining.¡± I asked.


    ¡°I went to a few meetings with dad. I usually stayed in the brewroom, but he snuck me into the meeting room once. It was this ridiculous setup Browning had made to look like the Pagoda of the Gods. It was the most obnoxious and egotistical thing I¡¯d ever seen,¡± Annie scoffed.


    ¡°Oh, well that seems <i>much </i>more their style.¡±


    Aqua tittered. ¡°I was talking with some of the other girls down at the Beardy Parlour and apparently the meeting is being catered. There¡¯s going to be a <i>lot</i> of food, so the beer garden made the most sense.¡±


    ¡°Malt.¡± Annie and I said together.


    ¡°Oh, and Berry was saying that the guild actually approached her about singing at the brewing contest. She turned them down.¡± Aqua gave <i>that</i> stunning bit of news without a single change in expression. Impressive.


    I gaped. ¡°They wanted a <i>gnome</i> to sing there!?¡±


    ¡°Apparently a couple of them are members of the fan club, Gemglow says. Some of theme in disguise to the shows, just like us!¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Gemglow? Berry¡¯s manager? The purple haired one that always runs the front table at Berry¡¯s shows?¡±


    The mental image was familiar, but I wasn¡¯t wasting a [sh of Insight] when I might need both uses by the end of the day.


    ¡°Not ringing a bell, sorry.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Gemglow says she¡¯ll be by to talk about your spokesgnome idea, so you can meet her then.¡±


    Annie began hesitantly, ¡°Aqua¡­ what have you been doing with Raspberrysyrup?¡±


    ¡°We hang out, and I¡¯ve been talking to her about music. She has some great ideas about using the soothing power of melodies to further my own future [Hypnotist] work. I study psychology while she writes songs and practices her magic. Then we write music together.¡±


    ¡°And why wasn¡¯t <i>I</i> invited??¡± Annie looked scandalized.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been busy with all this stuff.¡± Aqua gestured at all of everything. ¡°And any moment you have free you spend with Balin. I wasn¡¯t going to just sit around while you moved on with being a married dwarfess you know.¡±


    Annie flushed. ¡°Sorry¡­¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine, I¡¯m happy for you. And I get to spend my free time with RASPBERRYSYRUP!!¡±


    Annie smiled and pulled Aqua into a hug. ¡°Well, I¡¯m happy that you made a new friend. And you <i>need</i> to invite me to your next get together.¡±


    Aqua smirked. ¡°I¡¯ll have to ask <i>Berry</i> if she¡¯s interested.¡±


    Annie¡¯s smile grew thin. ¡°Assuming she hasn¡¯t gotten tired of you by then.¡±


    ¡°We have a fancy new wake-me-up beer to help with tiredness. Plus, not all of us are up all night long with our paramours!¡±


    ¡°Only those of us with a pretty enough beard to attract one.¡± Annie flicked her golden drill hair over her shoulder.


    Ugh. There was more cat in here than outside, and Minnova had to have a million of the furry things. I had enough experience watching Sammy and Caroline fight that I knew to stay out of this, but we were on a tight timeline.


    ¡°Alright, break it up. Annie, we¡¯re running short on time if we want to get there early. I don¡¯t want to chance a cart-ident or loose monster causing dys. I¡¯m happy for you Aqua, that sounds awesome. Berry seems like a great friend.¡± Plus, if she and Berry became besties that was another lever for manipting the gnomish pop princess. Muhahahahahaha!!!


    ¡°Thanks Pete.¡± Aqua flicked some dust from Annie¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You look amazing, Annie.¡±


    Annie smiled brilliantly. ¡°Love you, Aqua.¡±


    ¡°Love you too, Annie. Go stomp all over their feet.¡±


    If I didn¡¯t know dwarven biology, that would have sounded kinky instead of horrifying.


    As we left, I asked over my shoulder. ¡°By the way, what kind of music are you two writing?¡±


    ¡°Oh, lots.¡± Aqua shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m working on something special, actually. Oh, I was supposed to ask you what a honky-tonk was!¡±


    The door swung shut as I grabbed Annie and ran.


    DAMN YOU BERRY, THIS WAS BETRAYAL MOST FOUL!!! ERD WASN''T READY FOR COUNTRY!!

 Book 2: Chapter 40: Butter Knives Aren’t Great at Stabbing

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 40: Butter Knives Aren''t Great at Stabbing</h4>


    The brewer¡¯s guild in the Grand Market was exactly as it had been thest time I¡¯de. Roughly¡­ a month ago, now. The only difference was that the beer garden had been converted into a single long table, which was covered in food, and the faint odour of onions wafted around outside. The area was closed to the public, and sixteen ck robed figures sat around the table. Well¡­ maybe sat was the wrong choice of word.


    ¡°Give me that elfin piece o¡¯ cheese!¡±


    ¡°Not till ya pass tha sausages!¡±


    ¡°Oooh, are these yer wife¡¯s scones?¡±


    ¡°Aye, she made ¡®em special.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s all the beer gone?¡±


    ¡°WHO KEEPS STABBIN¡¯ ME WITH THA BUTTER KNIFE!?¡±


    ¡°Git over it, you¡¯ve got [Regeneration].¡±


    ¡°It still bloody hurts!¡±


    ¡°Bah, ya got a babe¡¯s moustache.¡±


    There followed an intense kerfuffle at the end of the table.


    Annie and I watched, bereft. We¡¯d known there was going to be food, but whatever we¡¯d been expecting, this hadn¡¯t been it. I cleared my throat and the dwarf at the head of the table noticed us. Malt hopped out of his seat and sauntered over, a roasted chicken leg dripping with gravy held loosely in one hand. He seemed to have gotten a bit rounder since I¡¯d seen himst.


    ¡°A most auspicious day you to Master Brewer.¡± Annie and I said together and bowed.


    ¡°A most auspicious day to you too Brewer.¡± Malt gave me a short bow then poked Annie in her bowed forehead. ¡°And why aren¡¯t you a [Brewer] yet, hmm? I can¡¯t imagine that all yer work hasn¡¯t been sufficient for a Blessing or two.¡± He took a bite of chicken and slurped the gravy soaked skin up as he did so.


    Annie¡¯s smile thinned. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for the right one.¡±


    ¡°*Munch* *Munch* Picky, picky. Back in my day youngsters were happy to get <i>any</i> Blessing, and now they¡¯re pickin¡¯ and choosin¡¯? Oy Drum! Did you hear that? Young Annie turned the Gods down!¡±


    A few other dwarves at the table noticed us, and either smiled, ignored us, or glowered. Drum raised his fist in a rude gesture. I was pretty sure it was aimed at Malt. He then resumed fighting another brewer over a te of fire-ckened drumsticks covered in cloves and garlic.


    ¡°Well, *gulp* no matter. Would you care to join us for food? We have some delicious treats, including that new Octamillenial thing from Joejam¡¯s.¡±


    A muscle twitched in Annie¡¯s neck. She¡¯de here high strung and ready to fight, and Malt¡¯s attitude was throwing her off. It was anothermon business tactic, and one I¡¯d actually done a lot myself. Though it could have just been Malt¡­ we¡¯d worked out ahead of time who would talk when, and I swept in. Annie just wasn¡¯t as in tune with the business side, yet. She knew dwarvenw and business, but I know <i>business</i>.


    ¡°We''d be happy ta join you for a business lunch, Malt. WIll we be presenting during or after tha meal?¡±


    Malt smacked his lips. ¡°After, I think.¡±


    ¡°Well then, we¡¯d love to sit down with everyone.¡±


    As we walked up to the table Malt suddenly yelled. ¡°Alright, listen up you lot! You all know young Goldstone here, and this is her partner Brewer Peter Roughtuff.¡±


    There was a general mutter of acknowledgment. I looked around the room and put faces to names; Annie had drilled their identities into me so I wouldn¡¯t bepletely lost here. There was a grey-haired dwarf with the muttonchops who gave me a small wave - Master Brewer Stusk, and the dwarfess with the lovely emerald hair. She was giving me a death glower, and if looks could kill¡­ Annie had said her name was Topaz Caskit, and she was one of Browning¡¯s old hardliners. I also spotted one of the ginger ducktail bearded twins - Master Brewer Crackle, who was currently chatting with another hooded dwarf. The rest were still hooded.


    ¡°Take a seat you two. Alright you lot! A toast!¡± Malt raised his ss. ¡°Fer Crack and Minnova! And the Will of the Ancestors!¡±


    Everyone raised their mugs. ¡°For Crack and Minnova! And the Will of the Ancestors!¡±


    Annie and I toasted along with everyone then took our seats. I may or may not have slipped a "Fer Crack and Annie!" in there. Annie was slowly getting back into her groove as she leaned in to a neighbour and began chatting about the quality of the food. I personally found it to be a cut below the usual fare we got from Bran. The gravy had distinctly too little sugar, and the chicken was just a bit under-salted. It really did look like Bran¡¯s biggest advantage as a chef was his willingness to go hard on spices. Good for him.


    I paused in my mastication of some erdroot pasta as I realized the sauce had beer in it. I would recognize that awful, sour aftertaste anywhere! I smiled and resumed eating, it looked like Bran¡¯s use of beer in dwarven food was reaching the general poption.


    ¡°Yer the one whose been messin¡¯ with tha Sacred Brew, eh?¡±


    The dwarf to my left spoke up while I was in the middle of chewing on a massive pork hock.


    ¡°*Mrf*?¡± I replied. ¡°And who might you be? A Most Auspicious Day to you, Master Brewer.¡±


    The dwarf, who was still wearing his hood up, audibly sneered. ¡°I¡¯m Samuel Rudd, of Ruddy Bloodbrews. I¡¯ll never vote to bring you back in. All of this is an affront to our ancestors.¡±


    He squared up as he said it, clearly expecting a fight. However, by this point I was more resigned by the dwarven attitude towards tradition than enraged. Forget the Red Rage, I couldn¡¯t work up an emotion much hotter than ¡®mild¡¯.


    I smiled disarmingly. ¡°I¡¯m d ta meet a dwarf who holds fast to his convictions. I¡¯m about to offer everyone here a <i>lot</i> of gold, but I guess you won¡¯t be wanting it. Your ancestors will be proud of you for resisting temptation.¡±


    ¡°I - er, aye. How much gold? No, yer right. I¡¯ll nae change me mind over somethin¡¯ as small as money. Gold is gold.¡±


    ¡°Why is it called bloodbrew? I imagine it uses the same recipe as the other beers?¡± I kept my tone chatty and curious.


    The dwarf was hesitant at first, but answered. ¡°Fer thousands of years everyone agreed that our n¡¯s beer is just a bit darker than everyone else''s, like tha colour of dried blood. And it reminds them of drinkin¡¯ the blood of their enemies! We¡¯re tha favourite beer of [Berzerkers] and warriors!¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ sounds like iron contamination, and maybe hard water. Is it a little more bitter than the regr Sacred Brew? I should see if it actually tastes like blood.¡± Huh, I actually <i>knew</i> what bloody brew tasted like. It was brewed <i>tea</i>, but the point remained - what a terrifying, horrible thing to know. I¡¯d need to ask Richter if there were any long term problems for dwarves drinking excess iron like that, though I suspected not.


    ¡°You - what? What do you mean iron? All we¡¯ve ever used is water, bittering agent, and erdroot! Are you usin¡¯ us of changing the Sacred Brew!?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of using you of something like that Master Brew. If it¡¯s like the Goat, you pump your water up from the city reservoir, right? There¡¯s probably an iron deposit near your pump head, and it¡¯s leeching iron into the water. That¡¯s gettin¡¯ into yer beer, and making it taste like blood. In short, it¡¯s the water. Congrattions! Your n has been blessed by Tiara.¡± I raised my tankard. ¡°Fer Tiara, may we eventually find her keep!¡± I chugged and tried not to gag. This was the <i>original </i>Sacred Brew - I had to fish a twig out from under my uv.


    My seatmate pulled down his hood. He had scruffy reddish/brown hair and a ruddyplexion with the pinched face of a persistent worrier. His beard and hair were braided in a traditional style. ¡°What are you <i>talkin¡¯ </i>about??¡±


    ¡°Beer? The crafting ins and outs? <i>Surely </i>you¡¯ve carefully studied the great gift your ancestors left for you? Hard water is full of calcium and magnesium and tends to make beer bitter. Even just changing where you get your water from can have a massive impact on beer vour.¡±


    ¡°Er, aye. I knew that.¡±


    ¡°Of course you did! How fortunate that your n received such an excellent opportunity. It might have been lost if any other industry opened in your area. And you¡¯ve turned what could have been a negative into your n¡¯s trademark. I¡¯m impressed.¡±


    ¡°Er¡­ thank you, Brewer Roughtuff.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you fer reaching out to a youngster like meself!¡±


    I gently finagled the Master Brewer in the direction I wanted, and we were soon discussing erdroot markets and the cooking contest. Apparently he¡¯d put a lot of money on Kebab Cuisineing in top 3, and had won a tidy sum. I eventually moved on from him to introduce myself to several of the other guild ns. Annie had already made the rounds, so I didn¡¯t bother with a spiel. She was currently chatting merrily with Malt.


    Eventually everyone was done eating (except for Drum), and Malt called the meeting to order.


    ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s get this meeting under way. I have an afternoon nap to get to.¡±


    There was generalughter. Gawd, it felt like Monday morning corporate meetings back in Canada when Beavermoose Brewery was big.


    ¡°As many of ya know, the Goldstones were not renewed into the guild after the retirement of Jermiah Goldstone. Young Goldstone here wants us to vote them back in.¡±


    There was a *Bang!* as the emerald bearded dwarfess smashed her gauntlet on the table. ¡°After what they did with that Feud? We were given a ck eye before all of Minnova!¡± There was a murmur of assent from several others.


    ¡°And that was entirely Browning¡¯s fault!¡± Drum snapped. He tossed a half-eaten chicken to the side. ¡°*Burp* And by tha Gods he deserved it! Ya cannae tell me the hubris didn¡¯t grate, and he acted like he <i>owned</i> tha guild instead o¡¯ just runnin¡¯ it!¡±


    The ginger twinughed. ¡°Not that Malt¡¯s any better. He can¡¯t manage much better than <i>walkin¡¯ </i>it.¡±


    I immediately liked him significantly more than I had a minute ago.


    ¡°Now, now. The Thirsty Goat has a proposal they¡¯d like us to hear first, and I think you¡¯ll like it. Come on up, youngins.¡± Malt¡¯s eyes twinkled as he spoke. I frowned as Annie and I walked over to stand beside him.


    ¡°What do you know¡­¡± I asked suspiciously.


    ¡°A lot of brewing equipment and erdroots have been purchased by Pot Company. We keep track of those to nab beer smugglers. Well, used to nab. Drum and I have been turnin¡¯ a blind eye the past few months. A lot more hobby brewers than usual; must be all thepetitions.¡± Malt smiled and yielded the floor to a beaming Annie. We¡¯d decided she should present; hopefully having a familiar face present our oundish n would soften the blow.


    ¡°Last night, I had a meeting with a new subsidiary. They believe they can massively increase our market cap. By our numbers, anyone who joins in on this new market could see a nearly 75% increase in sales. I would like you to consider this contribution to the Guild for determining our re-entry. ¡±


    ¡°Nonsense!¡± A dwarf with a curly blonde mop of hair and a goatee scoffed and rose to his feet. ¡°A 75% increase is impossible, there aren¡¯t that many people in all of Minnova. And how is a <i>subsidiary </i>supposed to make a difference.¡±


    Annie bounced a chicken leg off his head, and he sat back down. ¡°The subsidiary is Pot Corporation, and with their help we believe we have created the first eptable gnomish brew. With a minimum amount of tool-up, and their aid, we believe every brewing n in Crack will be able to sell Sacred Brew to the Gnomes.¡±


    There was a beat of silence, and then everyone started yelling at once.

 Book 2: Chapter 41: The Guild Vote

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 41: The Guild Vote</h4>


    Malt called the meeting to order with an ear-splitting shout. He gave me a wink as everyone sorted themselves.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Milestone ya get fer anything involving parties or managing folk,¡± he confided. ¡°[Project Voice]. Browning has an evolved version strong enough ta shatter ss n¡¯ stone.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Oh, I got offered that once.¡±


    ¡°What did ya take instead?¡±


    ¡°[Bottomless Barrel].¡±


    ¡°Now why would ya need that? There¡¯s always more than enough ta drink.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I think we¡¯ll need to agree to disagree on that one.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯spletely uneptable! The Sacred Brew is a <i>dwarven</i> tradition!¡± The emerald-haired dwarfess eximed when the din dropped enough for her to be heard.


    Several of the brewers bristled, and muttonchops actually spat. ¡°You think gnomes aren¡¯t as deservin¡¯ of our Sacred Brew as any dwarf, Master Caskit? When they helped <i>build</i> this city!?¡±


    ¡°Hear, hear! Well said, Master Stusk!¡± A blonde haired dwarf beside Stusk pumped his fist and cheered. That was Master Brewer Bristleburr. Annie had him marked down as one of our six supporters.


    ¡°Our ancestors never allowed gnomes to brew. Should we really be the ones to break that tradition?¡± The ginger twin harrumphed, though he appeared more contemtive thanbative. I put him down as a ¡®maybe¡¯.


    ¡°The gnomes have always been willing to allow <i>us</i> to be Baristas. Isn¡¯t it about time we allowed them to be Brewers?¡± A hooded dwarf grumbled. ¡°It would be in the spirit of the Octamillenial.¡±


    Beside me, Rudd was counting on his fingers. He whistled when he reached the end of his calctions. ¡°It¡¯s much higher than a 75% increase in sales. We¡¯d be the only brewers serving gnomes in all of Crack. For a while at least.¡±


    A cloaked figure actually began choking, and their neighbour patted them on the back until they spat up a chicken bone. ¡°Dear Gods! The potential gold!!¡±


    ¡°Who cares about the potential gold!¡± A white haired dwarfess pulled her hood back. I immediately recognized her as Master Brewer Zirce Icewhite - her n was named after their signature white hair. ¡°This is about holding fast to our traditions!¡±


    Another hooded brewer put up his hand. He had a quavery voice, but a lot of these codgers did, so I couldn¡¯t tell who it was from that. ¡°Goldstone. You mentioned the Pot corporation. I know them. Aren¡¯t they a teapany?¡±


    Drum snorted. ¡°They stopped bein¡¯ a simple teapany near a thousand years ago, Master Cimon. Mebbe you should take a minecart out of yer cave more than once a century.¡±


    Malt held his hand up for order as arguing broke out again. ¡°Now that we know the gist of it, let young Goldstone tell us the specifics.¡± He yielded to Annie who stepped forward, her eyes full of a confidence I was pretty sure she didn¡¯t feel.


    ¡°As of yesterday we have a beer that a majority of the gnomes we¡¯ve spoken to find more than eptable. Some dered it superior to coffee.¡± Well, Beatbox had, but he loved regr Sacred Brew so I wasn¡¯t putting much stock in his opinion.


    There was a shocked murmur from the Master Brewers, though a few still hadints.


    ¡°It had better not cause <i>farts</i> this time.¡± A hooded dwarf shouted.


    Caskitt rolled her eyes. ¡°OBVIOUSLY the Sacred Brew is superior to coffee!¡±


    Annie ignored them and continued. ¡°We entered talks with the Potpany to join us in a subsidiary position, much like when a branch n or trusted ally is given brewing rights within a specific city. As per the Country of Crack Ordinances, Chapter 956, Section 23, Subsection 2, gnomes may not be Brewers, but in this case they wouldn''t be Brewers, they would bebourers within a dwarf administered facility. I¡¯ve worked it out, and it¡¯ll all be legal and above board.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cuttin¡¯ the spirit of thew, is what it is¡­¡± Caskitt hissed.


    Rudd held up his hand. ¡°Then why even bother with tha gnomes, eh? We could do it all on our own. I¡¯m not sure about using a gnomish subsidiary, but I¡¯m all for bringing the glory of beer to the gnomes.¡±


    There was a general murmur of agreement, even from some of the earlier naysayers.


    ¡°None of us are properly set up to serve gnomish clientele,¡± Annie smoothly quoted from our pre-prepared answers. She and I had been upte the past week preparing for expected questions and going over who was who. ¡°The Pot corporation has the trust of the gnomishmunity, and thework to make gnomish beer a sess from the beginning. They¡¯ve agreed to throw all their weight behind this, and have put up a significant amount of capital to ensure it seeds. Do any of you truly believe that gnomes will buy beer from you, even if it was in a form they found ptable?¡±


    Another quavery voice emerged from a hooded dwarf down the table. It was so dry and dusty that just hearing it made me think of ancient leather tomes coated in dust. I guessed it had to be the oldest of the Master Brewers, Master Brewer Finn Rockwood. ¡°I¡¯ve always felt bad that they couldn¡¯t appreciate our most Sacred Brew. How did you manage it?¡±


    ording to Jeremiah, Finn Rockwood had pushed for innovation in brewing when he was young and full of fire, and we had him on our ¡®possibles¡¯ list.


    Annie yielded to me, and I stepped forward. ¡°I used a coffee adjunct, specifically cold-brew, and changed the erdroot malt to a mix of wheat, erdroot, and some other ingredients that I¡¯ll be happy to share with the guild if our bid to join is sessful.¡± None of these dwarves were using a cold-break step so I didn¡¯t mention it. The drink would taste eptable to gnomes regardless, but <i>ours</i> would have an edge. ¡°Whenbined with the use of one of my Abilities, the bitter vour of the coffee matches perfectly with the beer, and leaves a smooth aftertaste.¡±


    ¡°You ADDED ingredients to the Sacred Brew!?¡± Caskitt cried, aghast. A hooded brewer next to her fainted dead away. Hadn¡¯t that happenedst time too?


    ¡°Get off yer goat, Caskitt!¡± Another dwarfess called out. She was still hooded, but based on the sky-blue beard I could see sticking out, she had to be Master Brewer Daimonsdotter Fault. She was the eldest next to Master Rockwood. Annie had already convinced her to help us back into the guild.


    I smiled sweetly ¡°It¡¯s nothing like the Sacred Brew. And besides, we simply took our cue from the Honourable Guild of Brewers, whose decision to add Lily Leopard Liver Oil to our brew was responsible for rekindling a love for drinking in Minnova, and brought a great deal of gold into our pockets. We do thank the Guild for their wisdom in that matter! It inspired us to try adding other ingredients.¡± I gave a small bow.


    Drum, Rudd, Rockwood, Malt, and Stusk roared withughter. Master Brewer Icewhite turned white as her hair<i></i>and Master Brewer Cimon began angrily penning something down on a notepad.


    Master Fault cackled as well, her mirth causing her hood to fall back and reveal a wrinked face framed by a braided sky-blue beard. Crowseyes and smile-lines etched her skin. ¡°Well said,d. I still think that entire episode was absolutely shameful. Imagine, asking a father to betray his own n and daughter! I consider it the darkest day in our history, and this gnomish brew nonsense is our fitting punishment. Let it happen! Our ancestors were Barckian spirits nearly to the dwarf, and we should celebrate innovation when it happens! Mayhaps our descendants will look back on these days and celebrate it just as we celebrate the creation of the Sacred Brew. And, young Goldstone, I offer my beard to you in shame.¡±


    With that, the old dwarfess pulled a dagger out of her belt, and sheared off the bottom braid of her beard. She then tossed it across the table, where it spun to a stop in front of Annie.


    There was a sudden deathly silence.


    Annie picked up the lock of hair with a shaking hand, she looked at it with awe, as though she couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing. Eventually, she cracked out, "I ept your shame, greybeard."


    The silence was broken.


    "Why!?" ¡°Fer Crack and Minnova!¡± ¡°how could you!?¡± ¡°Cheers to that!¡±"Daimonsdotter!?"


    ¡°SHADDUP!¡± Malt roared with [Project Voice] again. ¡°Is there anything more?¡±


    Annie nodded as she put the lock of hair in her satchel. ¡°The brew, which we¡¯re calling Barista Brew - in honour of our gnomish cousins - also grants an energy boost simr to coffee, but is much more ptable to dwarves. It is <i>not</i> the Sacred Brew, and looks very different - it merely uses a lot of the same techniques. We believe it will be very popr with adventurers, as well as <i>the Highwatch and the Army</i>.¡± She heavily inflected thest few words and several of the brewers'' expressions turned gravely serious.


    ¡°Does it truly have military applications?¡± Rudd asked with a hoarse whisper.


    ¡°Aye. It does.¡± Drum spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve already been given tha spiel. I was the one that rmended it fer the army, actually. I think it¡¯ll be more useful for the Highwatch on the long road, but it¡¯ll definitely get raw recruits up in a hurry, dontchaknow.¡±


    I¡¯d had the idea of pitching it to adventurers after some of Balin¡¯sints. But it had been Drum who¡¯d rmended the other two.


    Rudd and a few other dwarves, including the ginger bearded Master Crackle looked contemtive.


    I decided to sweeten the pot with our final card. ¡°Raspberrysyrup has agreed to help advertise the new brew during her shows. She¡¯spletely on board, and would be willing ta pitch any Barista Brew you lot end up makin¡¯ as well.¡± Well, I <i>hoped</i> she would be. I¡¯d sent her a letter about it, and gotten back a simple, ¡°Berry says sure, whatever,¡± from Aqua.


    One of the remaining hooded figures <i>twitched</i>, and Master Rockwood whistled.


    Malt coughed to catch everyone¡¯s attention instead of assaulting us with his ability again. ¡°You lot heard them. In return for the recipe for Barista Brew, Annie Goldstone seeks entry to the Honourable Guild of Brewers. Hands up for ¡®aye¡¯.¡±


    I held my breath. It was the moment of truth¡­


    Six hands went up immediately - our ¡®allies¡¯. Drum, Malt, Bristleburr, Stusk, Fault, and by process of elimination, the hooded Master Bounder. Then Master Rudd slowly raised his hand, followed a beatter by Master Rockwood.


    Eight. We had EIGHT. One more,e on, one more! I prayed for luck, to Barck, to Tiara, to anybody! Jesus! Yearn! Dionysis! Whatever!!!


    Then Master Crackle raised his hand. Caskitt gasped, and the dwarf who''d choked earlier shouted angrily, ¡°it¡¯s a lotta gold, but gold¡¯s just gold!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not just the gold!¡± Crackle snapped. ¡°Me sister¡¯s in the Highwatch! You lot forget that for us smaller ns, our families have lives outside our Breweries. If Drum thinks this could help bring her back alive, I <i>want</i> it. Do you even know how many energy potions a Highwatch team gets on a patrol!? Not enough!!¡±


    Malt counted twice, then pped Annie on the back. ¡°Wee back to the Guild, Young Goldstone. Or I guess it¡¯s just Goldstone now. You¡¯ll need ta earn tha Master Brewer part! Ha!¡±


    A lot of things happened at once:


    The Brewers burst into apuse, angry shouts, and thrown food.


    Annie went ramrod straight, her eyes getting the faroff look of someone reading through notifications. Then she smiled, ¡°I got a Blessing! From Barck, for ¡®Sessful Innovation in Cultural Business Practices¡¯!! I can finally be an [Inventor]!! Oh and Aaron too.¡±


    I also got a string of notifications.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Stat Increased: [Charisma]!</strong>


    <i>Your charisma has increased by 1! Your new charisma is 17.4!</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Guildsman</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Back to where you started! Are you progressing, or backsliding? </i>


    <i>Rewards: [Thick Skin]</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Gnomebody to Love Pete</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Finally! An officially sanctioned gnomish brewery! </i>


    <i>Rewards: [Friend: Gnomes]</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Specialisation Possible!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Please select 5 Milestones tobine into a Specialisation!</i>


    <strong>Merge Milestones?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i></i>Yes/No


    I chose ''No''; I didn''t have enough brewing Milestones to make a second Specialisation worth it yet, and Barck had rmended waiting for [Pete''s Poor Manasight] to get it.


    And then a momentter Annie screamed, ¡°BY BARCK¡¯S BEARD, I GOT A PERSONALIZED MILESTONE!!¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 43: The Rules Arrive

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 43: The Rules Arrive</h4>


    We arrived back at the brewery to des, and much joyous noise. Aqua ran over to the Goldstonepound to grab the ¡°Official Member of the Honourable Guild of Brewers¡± card to hang over the bar. The announcement of Annie''s Title supercharged the whole thing. Beer was drunk, dwarves were tossed, fists were thrown, and cats were dodged. Kirk held up a keg and shook it hard then exploded it over everything. It was a glorious celebration, but as all good things must, it came to an end with the dinner rush.


    Sort of. The party more or less spilled into the pub.


    I went to bed absolutely exhausted, as the past month of stress and worry all came crashing down at once. I slept the dreamless sleep of the weary, but woke up refreshed and raring to go.


    It was the first day of the Octamillenial Brewing contest. And we were in.


    WE WERE IN!!!


    Annie and I called everyone onto the brewfloor to take stock and prepare. We now had enough workers that the room was actually a tad noisy. I closed my eyes and let the sound wash over me. Zirce and Emma bantering with Johnsson and Kirk. Aqua and Annie discussing finances. Markus and Moony patiently listening to Richter wax poetic on histest studies. It was a happy sound, and it reminded me so much of the best days at Beavermoose Brewery. Everyone doing what they loved and working hard.


    I hollered to catch everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Good Mornin¡¯ everyone, where are my dwarfies at! I see Annie, Zirce, Emma, Johnsson, Richter, Markus, Moony, Aqua, and of course, meself.¡± I proudly puffed out my barrel chest. ¡°John and Tom and Jeremiah and Balin are our final four, but they aren¡¯t present and/or have retired. Have I missed anyone? No? Then it¡¯s time to share tha big - !¡±


    *Meeeeh* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat Interruption] ¡°How could you not have eyes for me!¡±


    ¡°I mean, and of course, <i>Penelope</i>.¡±


    *Beep**Whistle*


    I deted. ¡°And Georgie¡­ anyone else? No? Sigh. The moment is lost. And how does Georgie even know what we¡¯re talkin¡¯ about? I thought he only followed basic instructions.¡±


    ¡°He isn¡¯t, you¡¯re just in his way.¡± Aqua snickered.


    ¡°Oh, sorry.¡±


    I stepped aside and the boxy bronze golem wheeled past carrying some crates of bottles. It gave a cheery *boop* as it did so.


    ¡°I¡¯m so d that Georgie¡¯s back.¡± Aqua squealed.


    Richter and Johnsson nodded vigorously.


    ¡°He does brighten up the ce.¡± Annie agreed, while reaching out to buff his outer shell. ¡°You¡¯re a great golem, aren¡¯t you Georgie?¡±


    The golem ignored her and continued his work.


    I ahemed. ¡°Alright! Here¡¯s tha deal! We¡¯ve been given the rules fer the Minnova portion of tha contest!¡±


    ¡°Are you goin¡¯ to tell us, or keep us in suspense?¡± Zirceined.


    ¡°Ooooh, like with those satin ropes Annie got shipped in?¡± Emma nodded. ¡°I wonder<i></i>what <i>those</i> were for?¡±


    Annie choked and Aqua¡¯s eyes bugged out. Kirk had the misfortune ofughing. My higher Charisma actually made it pretty easy<i></i>to keep my own chuckle down to a whoof of air.


    I continued while Annie jumped up and hammered a fist into Kirk¡¯s gut. ¡°The contest rules were shipped to all the contestants this morning. They arrived via [Courier], and heeeere they are!¡±


    I held aloft a pristine white envelope. Considering its import, it was pathetically small and unassuming; I''d been expecting a stone tablet, or a golden card.


    With bated breath I tore the seal with my thumb and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I read it once for myself, then read it aloud.


    ¡°To you, Honourable Brewer, we present the following challenge. Brew a beer that captures the essence of what it means to be a dwarf. You must include a note detailing how your brew meets the criteria. All entries must be presented at the end of the month. The judges shall be announced exactly one week before the due date.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Richter mused. ¡°I was expectin¡¯ sometin'' easy, like: ¡®make da best brew you cahn¡¯.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°There¡¯s another bit at the bottom about how it¡¯ll be presented. We need to send a single armoured goat in with a cask of brew.¡±


    ¡°Ah, like the traditional brewcarts to the mines.¡± Annie nodded.


    ¡°Are we sure this is right?¡± Johnsson asked. ¡°Someone didn¡¯t slip you a fake form? This doesn¡¯t feel like the kind of contest your average [Brewer] could handle. It¡¯s¡­ almost <i>asking </i>for innovation.¡±


    Annie was beaming over a copsed Kirk. ¡°It¡¯s great! All these contests have absolutely shaken things up! The drinking contest, that odd cooking contest, and now this! I wonder if that¡¯s the intent? Do we know who¡¯s designing them?¡±


    We all shook our heads, except for Richter. ¡°I heard dat some minor nobles in tha capital were settin¡¯ tha rules. Young folk, since tha older ones couldn¡¯t be bothad. It may be dat these contests were meant ta tweak tha Greybeards.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Greybeards, Moony and I are goin¡¯ to go sit our old bones down. Maybe Bran¡¯ll pour us a ss and feed us.¡± Markus called as he Moony made their way out to the pub. ¡°Call us when you want ta brew.¡±


    ¡°I heard some local nobility talking at the beardy parlour,¡± Johnsson piped in after they¡¯d left. He pulled at his freshly straightened and highlighted beard. ¡°They said the King is unhappy with the high nobility, so the provincial nobles are all flockin'' to Kinshasa to catch his eye. Maybe it''s the King shaking things up?¡±


    ¡°What about if we put gold in it?¡± Zirce asked. ¡°I can¡¯t think of anythin¡¯ that ¡®captures the essence of a dwarf¡¯ more than gold ya¡¯know!¡±


    ¡°I wish <i>I </i>could capture me an essence of dwarf.¡± Emma sighed, watching Johnsson stroked his beard. The two giggled.


    ¡°Gold <i>is</i> Gold,¡± Aqua agreed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s enough.¡± I shrugged. ¡°What¡¯s the likelihood that of the eight contestants, all eight hand in a beer with gold in it?¡±


    ¡°Low, actually.¡± Annie replied. ¡°I think that it¡¯ll be a regr True Brew from everyone, except maybe Master Drum. Even though the wording implies making something new, I suspect most will say ¡®The Sacred Brew <i>is </i>the essence of a dwarf''¡± She puffed out her chest as she spoke in her best imitation of a stodgy Master Brewer.


    ¡°Who are wepeting against, anyways?¡± Kirk asked.


    ¡°There are a total of eight breweries in the contest. They''re: The Full Cask, Ruddy Bloodbrews, The Rusty Battleaxe, Moon Over Minnova, Drunken Duck Brewery, Faultless Brews, and Crackin¡¯ Brews.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Master Caskitt, Master Rudd, Master Drum, Master Icewhite, Master Cimon, Master Fault, and Master Crackle, in order.¡± Annie finished.


    ¡°I want to see the look on Topaz Caskitt¡¯s face when we crush her.¡± Aqua hissed. ¡°That [Brewer] always rubbed me the wrong way.¡±


    Richter was helping Kirk back to his feet, but paused to ask a question. ¡°So, what¡¯ah we doin¡¯ if not tha gold idea?¡±


    ¡°Our old idea, actually,¡± I answered with a smug tone.


    I received nk stares all round.


    ¡°Remember when Raspberrysyrup was here, and we were talking about the n for her to act as a celebrity spokesgnome?<i></i>We got sidetracked with the Barista Brew, but-¡±


    Annie stood rigid. ¡°The Liquid Gold!¡±


    I smiled wide at her. ¡°That¡¯s right! This is the perfect time to try, and it¡¯s an unparalleledunch opportunity. Imagine, kicking off Liquid Gold as ¡®the brew that captures the essence of a dwarf¡¯! Plus, it''s a cross between True Brew <i>and</i> Light Brew, so it¡¯s like drinking both brews at once!¡±


    ¡°Will there be enough time, though? From speaking to other Brewers, Light Brew takes a long time to ferment. We only have one month.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the best part! It ferments like an ale, just at the <i>temperature</i> of ager. It¡¯ll only take a week, which will give us plenty of time to perfect it. We¡¯ll be able to try at least sixteen batches, and can use the perfect one! If we¡¯re lucky we¡¯ll have enough to evenunch it with the Barista Brew!¡±


    ¡°Will that be enough to win the contest?¡± Zirce asked, looking skeptical.


    ¡°Nope, which is why I¡¯ve prepared my secret weapon! Tadah!!¡± I pulled a vial from my pocket and held it aloft like Indiana Jones presenting the lost macguffin of Antic city.


    The vial contained an amber liquid that was so transparent it <i>shone</i>. Light from the bright solstones above the brewroom poured through it, creating a reddish-brown pattern on the floor beneath me. A few bubbles slid up the inside of the bottle as I gently shook it, causing the pattern to resolve into a dancing series of waves.


    ¡°What is <i>that</i>!?¡± Aqua asked, leaning in until her eyes were right up against the vial. ¡°Is that - ¡°


    ¡°It¡¯s <i>BEER!</i>¡± I dered. ¡°New Brew to be precise!¡±


    ¡°NOI!¡± Everyone else shouted.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡± Aqua hissed. ¡°It glitters like gold!¡±


    ¡°Oooh, it¡¯s shiny.¡± Emma cooed.


    ¡°Neat!¡± Kirk eximed. ¡°Looks kind of like fizzy whiskey!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s <i>beautiful</i>.¡± Johnsson whispered, his fingers reaching for the vial. I pulled it back before he could snatch it. I¡¯d seen enough miners grab gems and gold like that at the Minnova Reform Mine to have learned my lesson.


    Annie had parked next to Aqua, and the pair were giving the vial goo-goo eyes. ¡°Pete, I thought the hopback and the cold break were already enough. They made the beer so clear you could almost see through it. But this is something else. What did you DO?¡±


    ¡°This is what happens when you rify beer.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°rify?¡± Aqua asked, poking the vial.


    ¡°It means making an Aether clear. By removing any Matter in it.¡± Annie muttered. ¡°Bran does it with butter to make the vegetable dish you actually like. Surely you didn¡¯t just boil this, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Actually, there¡¯s a [Celebrated Gaffer] in Minnova with the [rify Mixture] Ability. He¡¯s well known for making the clearest ss. Whistlemop found him for me.¡± I shrugged.


    Annie shook her head sadly. ¡°Are you nning to hire him? I can¡¯t imagine an [Artisan] that worked hard enough to be a twice Specialised [Gaffer] would be interested in changing careers.¡±


    ¡°Actually, thanks to Balin we finally have a way to do it en-mass.¡±


    A look of horror passed over Aqua¡¯s face. Her blue beard actually <i>bristled</i>. ¡°You can¡¯t be talking about - ¡°


    ¡°That¡¯s right! The isinss from the corpsejelly! It¡¯s a rifying agent called a fining; we put it in the beer about half a week before we rack it. That or in the cask, I''ll need to experiment with it. All finings have properties that allow them to <i>flte</i> - that is, bond and seperate out - the specific bits of matter that create haze. Isinss is good at flting yeasts, lipids, <i>and</i> proteins, so it¡¯ll help rify our gnomish hefeweizens too! It''s also a preservative, so our beers willst for weeks or months instead of days! With this stuff in our corner, everything¡¯s gonna turn out just <i>fine</i>!¡±


    Everyone groaned.


    ¡°No, no! Hear me out! I ran it past Alchemist cktest night. Do you know what he said?¡±


    There was a moment of silence as everyone waited for my answer. After a beat Aqua sighed and asked, ¡°what?¡±


    ¡°¡®Why are you botherin¡¯ me at this hour, Pete.¡¯ <i>THEN</i> he said that he knew some [Alchemists] in Kinshasa that use it in their potions as a preservative! Most local alchemists just don¡¯t use it cause it¡¯s cheaper without. It¡¯s already a well-known and safe ingredient, and it gets so processed that it¡¯spletely unrecognizable from that smelly gooey jelly gunk!¡±


    ¡°Ugh, why did I ask? Still, will anyone drink it if they don¡¯t need to literally save their life?¡± Aqua grumbled.


    ¡°Listen, you all drink goat¡¯s milk. Do you ever think hard about where thates from?¡±


    Everyone looked over to Penelope.


    She stared back harder, daring anyone to say anything, then flicked her tail at the attention.


    *Meeeeeeeh* [Tranted From Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Perverts.¡±


    ¡°Plus, nobody even needs to know. The ingredients in the bittering agent are still a secret. For all you know it contains monster droppings.¡± I pointed an using finger at Annie.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t contain <i>monster shit</i>.¡± Annie snapped. I pulled out my notebook and crossed ¡®monster droppings¡¯ from my list of possible bittering ingredients. It had been one of my first guesses.


    Annie red at me, then her face turned contemtive. ¡°You know¡­ I think Pete¡¯s right. If we have a beer the colour of gold that <i>GLITTERS </i>like gold, and tastes like a cross between True Brew and Light Brew? That may actually win. And he¡¯s right, nobody needs to know the secret ingredients. And if everyone falls in love with our Liquid Gold, it won¡¯t matter if they do find out.¡±


    ¡°Can I try it?¡± Johnsson asked, still trying to snatch the vial away.


    ¡°Nah, I poured it from an unfinished tank. Plus it¡¯s in this,¡± I flicked the vial with my finger, which made a ringing sound, ¡°so you know what that means.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll taste vile.¡±


    Richter, Annie, and Aqua smiled and nodded. Zirce and Emmaughed. Johnsson and Kirk groaned.


    Eh, four out of seven ain¡¯t half bad! That was more than half! I was on a <i>roll</i> tonight!


    *Bleeeh!!!* *Bloopp.*


    Alright, four out of nine. Sigh.

 Book 2: Chapter 44: Interlude: Competitors, Assemble!

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 44: Interlude: Competitors, Assemble!</h4>


    ¡°Master Caskitt, what¡¯s the n?¡±


    The apprentice in his brown robe looked pleadingly up at her. He¡¯d brought her a simple envelope just a moment ago, and she¡¯d spent thest fifteen minutes considering it. A few other apprentices were beginning to gather, looking worried.


    Master Topaz Caskitt struck a pose and pulled seductively at her green beard while she thought. She appreciated the hungry look the apprentices gave her as she did so. She cultivated her image nearly as much as her beer. She was quite proud of her looks, and this recent fad for dyed hair and frilly clothes like Raspberrysyrup annoyed her nearly as much as that cad Pete Goldstone, or Roughtuff or whatever he was calling himself this year.


    ¡°Well, apprentice. We will do what we always do. Brew tha best Sacred Brew that has ever been brewed!¡±


    She surveyed her brewfloor. Unlike most of the other breweries, hers was neither a warehouse like the Goldstones, nor underground like Cimon or Stusks¡¯. No, the Caskitt brewery was open to the air, with tall walls and an enchanted barrier of light to keep out prying eyes. While others were afraid of various pests getting into their brew, such as bats or the horrid ubiquitous cats, the Caskitt family knew that they were simply part of the natural ambiance of Crack.


    That was why their beer had regrly been the best selling in the guild store. Their brew truly captured the TASTE of Minnova. And that was why they were going to win this contest. Caskitt Brewery would use the same ethos it had used since its inception, only now it would capture the essence of what it meant to be a dwarf.


    Caskitt strutted over to thetest brew and stirred the foaming Ancestral Seed with adle. It was one among dozens of vats held between the tall walls. Their brews admittedly had a high number of bad batches, and they needed many more tanks than the other breweries to meet demand. But it was worth it to ensure they were number one for <i>taste</i>.


    Those bad batches were the only thing keeping The Full Cask from bing the biggest brewery in Minnova, and she had been chosen amongst all her siblings to take over the brewery thanks to her work in reducing them. It had beenughably simple; a reduction in the pitch rate of Ancestral Seed, coupled with a full-time [Aethershaper] whose job it was to constantly cycle the air. She wasn¡¯t quite sure exactly what he did, but it was working! They¡¯d reduced the number of bad batches to 40%.


    With the capital to work with, she would be able to bring the Caskitt brewing method to capture the tastes of first Kinshasa, and then the world!


    She turned to the apprentice. ¡°Tell everyone to strip down to loincloths the next few weeks, and raise the temperature a smidge. And let¡¯s all work up a <i>sweat</i> while we stir.¡±


    Work <i>and</i> a show!


    ¡ª


    ¡°Bah!¡±


    Master Cimon groaned as he read over the rules to thepetition. The light of his candle guttered as a breeze flowed down the dark tunnels of Drunken Duck Brewery. He was getting far too old for this! Why couldn¡¯t the contest have been something <i>simple,</i> like, ¡®brew the best brew you¡¯ve ever brewed¡¯! He needed to <i>retire</i>, but all of his apprentices were still too flighty. He simply didn¡¯t trust any of them to give the Sacred Brew the respect it deserved.


    Thankfully he had some sextacentagenarians that were showing some promise. Just a few more decades and they¡®d be ready to do their duty.


    ¡°Is the next batch of Light Brew ready?¡± He asked the grey robed journeyman standing at attention beside him.


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    ¡°By the Unholy Yams of Yearn, the Gods must beughing at us. There isn¡¯t enough time for us to brew something new. We¡¯ll need to use that batch.¡±


    The journeyman looked like he was about to speak, then snapped his mouth shut.


    Good! This one could be taught. There was no need for a youngster to waggle their moustache when a greybeard was around to administer proper thinking.


    Cimon groaned as his joints popped, and he shuffled his ck armour into a morefortable position. Then he took a short walk to the nearest minecart, and climbed inside. A few minutester he was down in the bowels of The Duck, where the temperature was low enough for the proper creation of Light Brew.


    Exactly twenty-four tanks of Light Brew fermented merrily, their Ancestral Seed popping and bubbling. Shivering apprentices busily cleared the troughs from the upstairs brew kettle, while another grey-robed journeyman ordered them about.


    He had a rough guess of what the other Brewers were going to do. Caskitt would hold true to her traditional techniques, same with Icewhite and Fault. He had little doubt that The Duck would prevail over them, as Light Brew was currently in vogue amongst the nobility. No doubt the judges would be some of the most illustrious dwarves from the capital. Perhaps they might even take notice of his experience and grey hairs and bring him back with them to receive his own lesser title of nobility. He preened his moustache at the thought.


    The problem was going to be the youngsters, such as Goldstone, Drum, and Rudd. He was dreading what abominations they woulde up with in a vain attempt at glory.


    Bah.


    ¡ª


    ¡°So, what are ya thinkin¡¯, son?¡±


    Samuel Rudd paced back and forth in his office, asionally staring out onto the brewroom floor where his workers were busy cleaning. His father, the now retired Ryan Rudd, waited for an answer as his son paced a trough into the stone.


    <i>Cleaning</i>. Likemonbourers. Yet, from his conversations with Master Stusk, it had resulted in a drop of bad batches by nearly half in Stusk Brewery. It was one of the innovations to brewing techniques presented by Annie Goldstone.


    One of several, but the only one Stusk had been willing to try at first.


    The letter that Rudd had been reading sat upon the beer table. So small and unassuming, and yet such a danger. It represented change. A <i>massive </i>shift of tectonic proportions if this was merely the first round.


    Instead of answering, Rudd turned to his father and asked a question. ¡°What did the alchemist say?¡±


    ¡°He said that we do have some iron in the water, along with extra calcium. Thinks there may be a deposit in our section of the cistern.¡±


    ¡°You paid him extra ta keep it quiet?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Good thing ya got all that gold, eh!¡±


    Things had been tight recently. Customers were loving the new bottles and Rudd Brewery had been too small to easily make the switch. They were losing customers...


    Rudd considered Brewer Peter Roughtuff. His conversation with the dwarf had not been at all what he¡¯d expected. Peter was clearly knowledgeable, and affable. Not at all the raving lunatic he¡¯d expected from Browning¡¯s descriptions of him.


    And this gnomish brew offered a path to sess. There was NO WAY the bigger breweries would even consider brewing it. That left Ruddy Bloodbrews an edge.


    But only if he was willing to throw away millenia of tradition.


    ¡°Father, I - ¡°


    His father interrupted, his face as calm and collected as ever. Rudd had always envied his father¡¯s quiet surety. ¡°Ya¡¯know me boy? If there is one thing that¡¯s defined us Rudds fer generations, it¡¯s that we aren¡¯t afraid to jump right into the thick of things. Tha drink of choice of [Berserkers], and tha first to the fray. That¡¯s us!¡± The senior Rudd pounded his ck master-brewer¡¯s armour proudly, the very image of a warrior. An onion bounced out of his pocket and the image was broken as he scampered after it, swearing.


    Rudd mulled over his father¡¯s words.


    Yes. A Rudd never faltered in the face of battle. There was a possibility to raise his n to new heights here, and he had an idea. There was one thing that truly <i>defined</i> dwarves. One thing that every child had to struggle with from the moment they took their first hitball to the face. And his brewery was uniquely qualified to capitalize on that.


    So he was going to do the unthinkable: <i>change</i> the Rudd recipe.


    His ancestors would forgive him. After all, they may have even been himself.


    ¡ª


    Drum used his silver hand to roll the rules up into a cigar. He stuffed it with some fine pipe-weed and flicked his fingers to create a spark.


    He took a drag from the freshly made cigar and blew smoke into the face of the white-armoured [Courier] that had delivered it.


    ¡°Go tell whoever sent ya, that they can stuff these rules up - ¡°


    The [Courier] fled.


    Drum watched him go with disdain. Damn nobles and their games. He had half a mind to drop out and go join Sam. His old friend was shacked up outside the city keeping an eye on the nobility making their way into Minnova. Traffic had increased tenfold with the Octamillenial contests, and both he and Sam didn''t trust them as far as they could toss them. And he had an enchanted arm and years of experiencing tossing patrons.


    He caressed his silver arm with the habit of old pain and anger. They wanted to y games? FINE.


    He would give them a show they¡¯d never forget!


    ¡°*Har, har, har!*¡±


    ¡ª


    Master Fault nced over the letter and shrugged.


    ¡°We¡¯ll just brew as usual.¡± She said in her quavery voice.


    ¡°Are you sure, great-grandmother?¡± The brown-robed dwarfess beside her asked.


    The white-haired dwarfess smiled at her little apprentice. ¡°Our brews are perfect. Why worry?¡±


    Her other family-members-cum-employees gave answering smiles.


    It was <i>good</i> to be Faultless.


    ¡ª


    ¡°What should we do, sister?¡±


    Master Crackle asked his twin intively.


    ¡°You figure it out.¡± His twin sister snapped as she finished tying on her Highwatch armour. She still begrudged him his position as Master Brewer of <i>Crackin¡¯ Brews</i>. Especially as she¡¯d essentially been forced into the life of an on-again-off-again adventurer by necessity. She still wore her own Master Brewer armour beneath her HIghwatch te.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about tha contest. I¡¯m talkin¡¯ ¡®bout tha gnomish brew!¡±


    She finished snapping thest few sps. ¡°You said it provides an energy boostin¡¯ Condition?¡±


    ¡°So he <i>ims</i>.¡±


    His sister made a flicking gesture. ¡°It¡¯ll be huge. Get the recipe and start makin¡¯ it as fast as possible. We need ta beat the others to it.¡±


    ¡°Goldstone thinks that we¡¯d need a gnome to sell it properly. That no gnomes will trust a dwarf to make them proper beer.¡±


    ¡°Brother! I¡¯m in tha Highwatch! By my word <i>thousands</i> of members of the army and highwatch will buy that beer. And where the brave dwarves of the army lead, the adventurers and then everyone else will follow. We don¡¯t <i>need</i> the gnomes. Now give me a hug goodbye, you may never see me again.¡±


    They sped wrists, then pulled in for a hug.


    Mince Crackle closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of his sister. She smelled faintly of sandalwood and leather. The smell of armour and beard oil. They broke apart and his sister departed on her mission to keep the highway safe for travelers.


    Sandalwood and leather¡­.


    Crackle¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¨C


    That night from arge building in the east of Minnova there was the bleating sound of a goat. Then high-pitched maniacal dwarvenughter.


    Clowders of cats fled the neighbourhood, their tails held high and backs arched in fright.


    A sign affixed over the entryway dered: <i>Moon Over Minnova</i>.


    ¨C


    In his study, Ambermine of the West Crackian Mines hissed as he read the report.


    <i>Another</i> of his corporatebat squads had been taken out by those damn Pots! And he was still holed up in here, unable to take a single step. He massaged his freshly healed leg; it had nearly been chopped clean off by Copperpot¡¯s attack.


    DAMN those useless operatives of his. The best [Assassins] in his employ, and they¡¯d been defeated by a surprised old coot and two Godsbedamned BEER ARTISTS!


    With a surge of anger he flipped the coffee table, spilling his tea and the papers to the floor. His chest heaved with anger, and one corner of his mind idly wondered if this was what the Red Rage felt like.


    He drank the feeling in. It was<i> delicious</i>.


    As the anger subsided, Ambermine flopped back onto the couch with a sigh. The family [Butler] scurried to clean up the mess, and everything was tidy again in a few moments.


    Ambermine idly picked up a letter from the pile the [Butler] had deposited back on the table. It was made of the finest paper, and smelled faintly of perfume.


    It was the scent of nobility and power.


    This letter was one of many that had made their way to the Mine Corporation. It promised wealth and opportunity. An opportunity for all gnomes, but an opportunity for THEM all the more.


    He hadn¡¯t been desperate enough to consider the offer before; they¡¯d weathered worse storms than losing a few mines. But now they were walking the razor¡¯s edge.


    And he wanted Copperpot and his friends to <i>pay</i>.


    With a knife-edged grin, Ambermine began to pen a reply.

 Book 2: Chapter 45: A Month as the Dwarf Lives

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 45: A Month as the Dwarf Lives</h4>


    <strong>4 Weeks Until the Octamillenail Brewing Contest</strong>


    The sound of singing filled the Thirsty Goat, along with the creak of wood and metal. Two shirtless dwarves, one tall with ck skin and lean muscles, and the other of average short with a long blonde-and-pink beard and sculpted pecs, worked tirelessly under the gaze of a grumble of dwarves.


    Strike your pick, move it quick,


    In the length of a candlestick!


    In the ck, watch your back,


    Crack the stone with a mighty whack!


    Heave! Ho!


    Heave! Ho!


    Dwarf be bold, search for gold,


    Comb through the rock and moss and mould!


    Specks of light, fight or flight,


    Steel yourself for a bloody night!


    Heave! Ho!


    Heave! Ho!


    Mortal coil, work and toil.


    Dwarven life is a raging roil!


    Swing and dig,zy pig,


    Back at home, dance a merry jig!


    Heave! Ho!


    Heave! Ho!


    Richter and Johnson finished grinding up the malt for our first batch of Liquid Gold. When they were finished, they carried therge sacks of grist up the catwalk and dumped them into the shiny newuter tun. At the same time, Mooney worked the pump to fill the boil kettle with fresh water while Markus stoked the fire.


    Johnson leaned over the railing to catch his breath and called down. ¡°Ya know, Pete. I¡¯ve been wondering why we don¡¯t use goat power for grinding the grist. Seems like Penelope could use the exercise. She¡¯s been putting on weight with all the snacks Bran¡¯s been giving her.


    Penelope gave him a gimlet stare from where she was sitting in the corner, then continued munching on her bowl of treats.


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ you may have a point.¡±


    *Maaaaaahh* [Tranted from primma donna goat] ¡°You would insult ady¡¯s weight!? For shame, my servant!¡± She turned to face away from us as we allughed.


    ¡°No, but more seriously, dat can lead ta health problems for tha princess.¡± Richter admonished. ¡°Someone should take her out runnin¡¯ each morning for exercise.¡±


    ¡°I can do it!¡± Aqua held up her hand, cheerily. ¡°It can get a bit lonely on my morning walk.¡±


    ¡°Is that when you drink yer espresso?¡± I waggled my eyebrows.


    Aqua flinched. ¡°I don¡¯t drink coffee, nobody drinks coffee, <i>you </i>drink coffee, who told you that, it¡¯s a lie! I drink nothing but beer and the tears of my enemies!¡±


    ¡°I <i>do</i> drink coffee. No denials here.¡± I held up my hands. ¡°I have it from a <i>most</i> reliable source that you¡¯re a coffee fan.¡±


    Aqua turned pink, then white, then red. ¡°<i>JOEJAM</i>. That traitorous [Barista]!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re about to start a coffee-beer <i>empire</i>, Aqua.¡± Zirce tittered. ¡°You can just say you were an early adopter.¡±


    ¡°She could add some hip tes to that shiny silver armour. Show off what a <i>hip - ster </i>she is.¡± I sniggered.


    There was a pause as everyone considered.


    ¡°Dat one fell t, Pete.¡± Richter admonished.


    ¡°Weak. I give it a three out of eight.¡± Aqua added. ¡°And what¡¯s a hipster?¡±


    ¡°I liked it.¡± Zirce smiled. ¡°Six and a half.¡±


    ¡°You have terrible taste, sister.¡± Emma rolled her eyes. ¡°I give it a two.¡±


    ¡°Get back to work.¡± I hissed.


    When the kettle had reached the required temperature, we opened the valve that sent the hot water pouring into our new tun. Richter moved to begin pumping the water through the recirction pipes. As the mash released its sweet, sweet, wort, it flowed down through the false bottom and into said pipes. They wrapped around the boil-kettle, providing a gentle reheat before emptying back into the tun. That was the RIMS, or Recircting Infusion Mash System in motion!


    There was no need for step-mashing this time, so after 30 minutes of pumping, Johnsson moved in and Richter took a break.


    "And now it''s time to [Basic <i>Spaaaarge</i>]!!" I gave the knife wheel a practice spin, and it ground through the mash in the tun. I switched the valve to send the wort back into the boil kettle, and began turning the wheel in earnest while Richter jumped onto the pump. The knives sliced the mash-bed, stirring any stagnant wort, and granting the sparge ess for spraying. Up on the catwalk above us, Zirce and Emma stood ready withrge wooden spoons. As the wort poured into the kettle, they began stirring to ensure the dark-brown liquid didn¡¯t burn on the searing hot copper.


    I began to hum, and then sing <i>You Spin me Round Like a Record</i> by Dead or Alive. Richter didn¡¯t seem too enthused by my off-key baritone, but Zirce and Emma quickly picked up the words and began singing along in cheery soprano as they spun the Wort in circles above our heads.


    And then theutering was done! I ran onto the catwalk, bounding up two stairs at a time. I took a deep breath, then peeked into the boil kettle. My breath released in a sigh; the wort waspletely clear. We¡¯d done it. Not a single fleck of mash or <i>any </i>contaminant had made it into the wort.


    I walked back down the stairs to an awaiting Annie and crew. Everyone clustered around as I announced:


    ¡°It worked <i>perfectly!</i> Operation Liquid Gold is a <i>GO!</i>¡±


    Annie wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug. We were on the road to victory!


    ¡ª


    <strong>3 Weeks Until the Octamillenail Brewing Contest</strong>


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you called. I thought you¡¯d be really busy with thepetitioning up.¡±


    Amythestgemglow twirled her hair as she regarded me from beneath loweredshes. I caught her eyes and smiled, and she huffed. The gnomess was strikingly simr to Lillyweather, actually. She had the same small features and button nose. The biggest difference was that she had bright purple hair done up in pigtails. That, and the violent pink ¡°Raspberry syrup on tour¡± tunic she was wearing.


    ¡°Well, I had to make time for my all important spokesgnomess didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± Gemglow regarded me beneath her fluttering eyshes. ¡°We still aren¡¯t pleased with this pivot to Barista Brew. We¡¯d put a lot of work into the Liquid Gold preparations."


    I shuffled nervously in my seat. That was the other big difference between the two. Lillyweather reminded me of my daughter, but Gemglow reminded me of my third grade English teacher. As the silence stretched, I was wondering what homework I¡¯d forgotten.


    ¡°Well Amythestgemglow, let me tell you - ¡°


    The gnomess twitched. ¡°Ah, Amethyst.¡±


    I paused. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°Amethyst. My family¡­ did not approve of my job as Berry¡¯s manager. I am no longer wee to use the Glow name.¡± The gnomess suddenly looked morose.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to say. I felt a thought forming, something like: ¡®their loss, then¡¯, but felt my mind wrench away from the idea. I suddenly understood that insulting her family, even as a joke, would poison our rtionship.


    Huh, that must have been [Friend of Gnomes] or whatever my new Ability was called.


    My once-Canadian heart still forced out an, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    <i>AMETHYST - </i>took a deep breath and steeled herself. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. What are your ns?¡±


    ¡°Copperpot is ready to release the Barista Brew. We were thinking ofunching it the day AFTER we win the contest. If not, we¡¯ll see who <i>does</i> win, and consider bringing them on-board. The power to get a brewery in the capital and the title of ¡®Best Brewer¡¯ in Minnova can¡¯t be overstated for our advertising campaign.¡±


    ¡°Will they really join you?¡±


    ¡°Based on our research, at least three of the winners would probably be willing to work with us. Including us, that¡¯s half the breweries in the contest. Our odds are good.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re <i>sure</i>.¡± Amethyst jotted some notes down on her notepad and hummed, reading over them.


    ¡°Are you enjoying working for Berry?¡± I asked into the somewhat awkward silence.


    ¡°Oh, I <i>love</i> working for her!¡± Amethyst¡¯s eyes twinkled. ¡°Berry''s an amazing artist, and mage, and everything else in between! I can¡¯t imagine what my life would be like now without her. I thank the Gods every day that she chose me as her manager.¡±


    ¡°Well, congrattions.¡±


    Amethyst resumed reading over her notepad. ¡°Mhm. Alright, I can fit Berry in for the first of our contracted ¡®endorsements¡¯ on the day after the contest. What an interesting word¡­¡±


    ¡°Perfect! And sorry about the Liquid Gold thing, but I can promise that it wasn¡¯t wasted time!¡±


    I ran through our ns for the brewing contest and Gemglow nodded. ¡°That sounds like it might actually work!¡±


    ¡°Are we good then?¡± I held out my fist for a fistbump, and my hand popped open into a handshake of its own volition.


    Amethyst smiled and shook my hand.


    ¡ª


    <strong>2 Weeks Until the Octamillenial Brewing Contest</strong>


    Four dwarves sat silently around a table. Annie, myself, Balin, and Aqua. We each stared deeply into the whistlemug sitting before us. The ss was filled to the brim with gleaming liquid set with sparkling bubbles. A pure-white foam floated on the top, a nearly-perfect inch of head. Balin reached over to poke the jiggly mass, much as Penelope had the first time she¡¯d encountered it.


    Aqua muttered. ¡°I¡¯ve never been so thirsty in my <i>entire life</i>.¡±


    Balin gulped. ¡°I donnae just <i>want</i> ta drink it, me soul is sayin¡¯ I <i>need</i> ta drink it.¡±


    Annie whistled. ¡°It really does look like gold, and the <i>smell</i>!¡±


    The three of them took deep breaths through their noses.Their nostrils red practically in unison.


    ¡°It¡¯s <i>smells </i>like a mix of True and Light Brew.¡± Aqua purred. ¡°My favourites.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. They were almost <i>every</i> dwarf¡¯s favourites.


    ¡°Aye, with a bit of an off-scent I don¡¯t recognize.¡± Annie reached down and picked the whistlemug up. She held it to the light and stirred the liquid inside, examining it as it swished and burbled.


    ¡°Does this one have any magic effects?¡± Aqua asked. ¡°Other than horrifying anyone who knows what went into it?¡±


    ¡°Ugh, don¡¯t remind me.¡± Balin moaned.


    ¡°No. I didn¡¯t use my Ability on it, because I don¡¯t actually want the isinss tobine with the beer. Just the opposite actually. Also, it isn''t magical so it probably wouldn''t do anything. It <i>should</i> improve the shelf life of the brew a little too; Isinss is a preservative as well as a magic haze eraser.¡±


    ¡°It certainly looks impressive.¡± Annie nodded. ¡°If this isinss is what it takes to get that colour and rity it may well be worth it. It sparkles more than a gem.¡±


    I tapped the ss, and watched bubbles rise to the top, then pop. ¡°The biggest problem is that bottle fermentation with isinss is aplete pain, and putting it in the tanks early just isn''t working, so at the moment we can only put Liquid Gold in casks.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not ideal.¡± Annie frowned.


    ¡°No, but look at it this way! Anyone that wants some <i>has</i> to buy a full barrel! At least until we get get some secondary fermentation tanks!¡±


    ¡°But how does it <i>taste</i>.¡± Aqua said. ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s important.¡±


    ¡°Penelope liked it.¡± Balin said. ¡°Shepped it right up.¡±


    ¡°Penelope¡¯s a lush.¡± Aqua retorted. ¡°We need a more partial goat.¡±


    ¡°You shut yer dirty mouth, she¡¯s a PRINCESS.¡± I snapped.


    ¡°Is that why she keeps trying to kill Johnsson whenever he fits the armour for the contest on her?¡± Annie said dryly.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ unmaidenly. A princess shouldn¡¯t be in a tin-can.¡±


    ¡°Figure it out. You''re closest to her recently.¡±


    Balin scratched his head. ¡°Why are we doin¡¯ this in here, anyway?


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°I still can¡¯t tell how much of what happened to Richter in the library was an act, no matter what you lot im. He¡¯s just not that good an actor. I want to make sure this doesn¡¯t go sideways.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m drinking it first.¡± Annie took the opportunity to put the mug to her lips. She took an experimental swallow, and swished the beer between her cheeks. Her eyes widened and she began gulping it down. After an interminable moment, she gasped for breath and wiped her foam flecked beard.


    ¡°Sooooo¡­?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s so <i>smooth!</i> It¡¯s like nothing I¡¯ve ever drunk. It¡¯s as refreshing as Light Brew but has the vour of True Brew. It¡¯s easy to drink, and has a crisp aftertaste, like¡­ like¡­ nothing I¡¯ve ever drank before. It feels like it sparkles in my mouth. Pete, this is going to be <i>huge</i>.¡±


    ¡°And the corpse guck?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°Who <i>cares</i>. I¡¯m getting more!¡± Annie ran back into the brewhall. She tripped on Penelope¡¯s bowl, which had been shoved in front of the door. Penelope baahed in protest as Annie rushed past her. Plus one to my suspicions about Richter''s reaction.


    ¡°I think we may have a sess!¡± I took a sip of the dregs at the bottom of the mug. It went down easy, and we¡¯d finally achieved a rity I wasfortable with; no sticks in <i>this</i> brew. But the bittering agent was still awful, and the erdroot left a dry and filmy mouthfeel. All told, though? We were going to <i>win </i>this!


    ¨C


    <strong>1 Week Until the Octamillenial Brewing Contest</strong>


    ¡°I¡¯ve called you all here to announce two things.¡± Bran smiled widely.


    We all looked up from the feast he¡¯d prepared. He stood at the head of the table with Doc Opal on his arm. She¡¯d been dropping around the brewery a lot the past few weeks. In between all the prep for the contest, and practice brews with Copperpot, I¡¯d been too swamped to pay her any attention, though.


    An entire roastmb sat on the table, the scent of clove and basil wafting from it. The meat was perfectly cooked, with a slightly pink colour and fall-off-the-bone texture. The tter was filled with its juices, which ran down into a bed of roasted erdroot. The vour was absolutely divine, with that spicy/tangy taste that could only be found in well-cooked mutton. Every single one of us had gravy dribbling down our beards, and Richter and Johnson paused in the middle of fighting over one of the racks.


    ¡°The first big piece of news is we¡¯re getting married,¡± he announced, deadpan.


    It took a beat, and then we all began mbouring at once, and bits ofmb sprayed around the room as we shouted. Tankards of Liquid Gold sshed as we raised them in a toast. We¡¯d been drinking a lot of the stuff recently.


    ¡°Congrattions!!¡± ¡°May Yearn Bless you two!¡± ¡°Bran, you old goat!¡± ¡°Huzzah!¡±


    Opal and Bran basked in our cheers, then Bran put his arm up to catch our attention.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been speaking to her father, Magistrate Benton. He tweaked Lady Sif¡¯s arm, and they agreed to let me formally propose to Opal.¡±


    Bran beamed. Opal beamed. The rafters beamed. Nyuck.


    ¡°When are you two gettin¡¯ married?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯ll depend. On a few things, actually.¡± Bran grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s¡­plicated.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it.¡± Annie sighed. She and Balin were still nning their own wedding. Apparently it was quitemon for dwarves to have a ¡®short¡¯ courtship of a couple years or five. During that time they each got to know the other¡¯s n, and then they would decide together which n was the better fit. In Balin¡¯s case, it was easy - there wasn¡¯t really a Roughtuff n. But there were still a lot of traditions to maintain and rites to observe to honour their respective Ancestors and the Gods.


    Whodathunkit? Dwarves and tradition. I¡¯d never run into THAT before.


    ¡°As for the second news¡­¡± Bran¡¯s eyes became uncharacteristically uncertain. ¡°I met some nobles at Opal''s. Then things got to movin¡¯ and I made a few meals at her ce. Then some other stuff happened - ¡°


    ¡°Get on with it!¡± Johnsson shouted, banging his fork on the table.


    And so Bran dropped a bombshell. ¡°Bah! Here¡¯s tha short of it. The Grand Lord of Minnova has invited me to be his personal chef. He¡­ he wants to hire me full time. It¡¯s the highest position a chef can have! But¡­ I¡¯d need to leave the Goat.¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 46: Being Judgey

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 46: Being Judgey</h4>


    Bran¡¯s announcement was met with shocked silence. He was as much a part of the sess of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub as, well, myself. WIthout him¡­ we probably would¡¯ve managed, but it would¡¯ve been a lot harder.


    At the same time, I knew that bing someone ¡®eptable¡¯ to Opal¡¯s noble parents was something really important to him. And if working directly for the Grand Lord of Minnova was what it took¡­ who was I to say anything about it?


    ¡°Oy! That¡¯s goat shite ya sonnuvanannygoat! After all this, you¡¯re just going to up and go!?¡± Johnsson jumped to his feet and tossed his tankard at Bran¡¯s head. Bran appeared to have been expecting something like that, and sidestepped.


    ¡°I don¡¯ like it!¡± Richter pounded his fists on the table. His eyes were red-rimmed and he appeared half-way drunk. He <i>really</i> liked Liquid Gold. ¡°Yearn¡¯s Yams, why do ya keep leavin'' us!? T''ing¡¯s are finally goin¡¯ so well!¡± He actually began to cry, deep wet sobs that turned into blubbering sneezes.


    The gathering storm died at Richter¡¯s words. I nced over at Aqua and Annie. They were trying to hide it, but they were simrly crushed by the news.


    Aqua walked over and held Richter¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Richter. Johnsson¡­ This could be really big for Bran. We¡¯re still just a small brewery - but the Grand Lord of Minnova... Bran could be the most famous chef in the city.¡±


    ¡°But - ¡° he began.


    ¡°Bran¡¯s already the most famous chef in Minnova!¡± Emma snipped.


    ¡°Literally!¡± Zirce added.


    ¡°He¡¯s the only chef <i>I¡¯ve </i>ever heard of!¡± Kirk shouted.


    ¡°We <i>are</i> happy for you Bran. But, I do hope you¡¯ll spend some time thinking about the decision. This brewpub is as much about good food as good beer. And we owe that all to you.¡± Annie smoothly entered the conversation.


    ¡°Aye. I won¡¯t jump into it beard first.¡± Bran nodded. ¡°And besides, if you lot win this contest we¡¯ll all be headin¡¯ to Kinshasa together. Who knows, you may not need me anymore if you get big enough. Who¡¯ll need boring old Bran when every dwarf in Crack is drinking your brews?¡± He chuckled self deprecatingly.


    Opal squeezed his hand, and spoke in the tone of a wife giving a gentle reminder. Ugh, I knew <i>that</i> tone! ¡°But, the Grand Lord will need your answer before you leave to the capital.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± Bran gave his fianc¨¦ a loving smile.


    ¡°We¡¯ll always need you, you big lug!¡± I tossed a mug too, in the spirit of things. Opal caught it one handed and tossed it back. I caught it deftly with my helmet and it bounced back onto the table.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about the news. I¡­ couldn¡¯t imagine being in this world without Balin at this point, or Annie, or Aqua, or Johnsson, or Richter, or Bran for that matter.


    Oh, there were Zirce and Emma, and Markus, and Mooney, and so on and so forth, but they didn¡¯t quite feel the same. I think subconsciously I¡¯d always assumed they were going to stay here and run the goat while the rest of us left for the capital when we won the contest.


    <i>If </i>we won the contest, Pete. Don¡¯t get too ahead of yourself.


    Check that. I <i>did </i>know how I felt about the news. Screw being the big adult in this situation. Everybody in this room was way older than me! Bran had been <i>instrumental</i> in my sess. His efforts had made the miners more epting of my radler, and that had gone a long way towards limatizing me to this society. And Annie wasn¡¯t wrong; our sess was as much due to Bran¡¯s incredible cooking as anything else. We¡¯d be fools to let that go.


    For now. I needed to do whatever it took to keep Bran with me, and I had a secret card to y. One no chef could ever turn down.


    It was time to make use of my Godly stalkers and the Quest system. I muttered silently under my breath as everyone began asking Bran and Opal questions about their engagement. ¡°Alright Barck, let¡¯s test this. Tiara too; I heard you like good food and I¡¯m willing to bet this is one of the things Barck isn¡¯t allowed to help me with. I need a Milestone that¡¯ll help me remember recipes. If I can pass it onto someone else? Even <i>better</i>.¡±


    I already knew that the Ability I wanted wasn¡¯t too crazy; Bran¡¯s fancy [Cookbook] Ability would work just fine. If needed I¡¯d grind out the new recipes necessary to get it the same way he had. Either way, my best chance at keeping Bran was revealing my otherworldly status and an endless supply of new dishes. I''d offer him an incredible temptation, and then respect whatever decision he made.


    With my mind made up, I turned back to the table to join in another toast.


    ¡ª


    And then it was the week before the contest.


    Or so they told me.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious. There¡¯s no way it¡¯s been a month!!¡±


    ¡°Pete, I¡¯m tellin¡¯ you, it¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only been¡­ [Mental Math]... By All the Bits of tha Gods! I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s almost been a month!?¡±


    The crew allughed as we stood around the white envelope that had been delivered this morning.


    It was finally time to see who the judges were for the contest. It wouldn¡¯t change much, but it would have some impact on how we approached our pitch. We were allowed to send a single page of standard sized notepaper in with the beer, and we would need to tailor our writeup to the judges.


    With a deep breath in and out, I opened the paper.


    ¡°Aaaahhhh!!!!¡± I screamed, holding it out at arms length and shaking with horror. My voice rose and fell in a wave as I stretched the cry out. ¡°AAhhhAAAAhhaaHHH!!!¡±


    Aqua began to scream too, followed by Johnsson, then Zirce and Emma, though I was pretty sure thest two were just joining in on the fun. Aqua¡¯s jaw snapped shut after a moment.


    ¡°Your only emotion right now is smug enjoyment!¡± She grumped. ¡°I hope your socks fall off!¡±


    ¡°Ahhhh¡­ ha ha ha.¡± I wiped a tear from my eye. ¡°I always loved doing that to¡­ well, it¡¯s fun. The judges are pretty close to what we expected. I think someone¡¯s going to win tha bet.¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, I hope it¡¯s me! I lost dast one.¡± Richter inched forward to peer over my shoulder.


    ¡°The three judges are¡­. drumroll please. The Grand Lord of Minnova, Prophet Barnes, and Louis ckbeard!¡± I announced with ir. I¡¯d lost the bet, since I¡¯d been betting on the Lord, a Noble, and the head administrator of city hall. I¡¯d considered Prophet Barnes a distant chance, but it looked like nobody was going to deny the literal mouth of the Gods his chance at sounding off on what it meant to be a dwarf.


    ¡°I WON!¡± Johnsson shrieked, pumping his fist. ¡°I <i>knew</i> gossiping with all the nobles at the beardy parlour would pay off!


    ¡°You just copied <i>my</i> idea.¡± Aqua hissed. ¡°I should¡¯ve bet on ckbeard instead of Bronzeson.¡±


    ¡°Ha, Bronzeson has no interest in being in public.¡± Johnsson crowed.


    ¡°You all owe Johnsson¡­ five gold.¡± Annie said, leafing through her notepad.


    Everybody passed over the gold, and then conversation began in earnest. We all had something we wanted to add to the note and the arguing got quite loud before Annie took control of the situation.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to be responsible for writing it. Pete, you¡¯re still waaaay too crasslymercial, and Aqua, you and Johnsson are just far too flowery. Richter, I think you¡¯d just end up writing a dissertation, and Zirce and Emma¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t need to turn <i>us</i> down, boss.¡± Zirce rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Cou fusspots, dontchaknow.¡± Emma agreed.


    ¡°We could ask George?¡± I pointed at the golem as he walked by carrying some boxes of bottles and he booped in greeting.


    ¡°And this is why I¡¯m writing it.¡± Annie sighed. ¡°But I¡¯d appreciate your ideas.¡±


    ¡°Are you worried that I¡¯d write something so annoying the judges would give us the ¡®pun¡¯-t?¡± I waggled my eyebrows.


    Annie scowled. ¡°YES. Now, I think we all have good ideas for what to say to make the Lord happy¡­¡±


    ¡°Something patriotic?¡± Aqua put up her hand.


    Richter thumped the table. ¡°Somethin¡¯ honourin¡¯ Minnova¡¯s brave adventurers!¡±


    ¡°Empty titudes?¡± Emma grumbled.


    ¡°Yes, yes, and <i>politely</i>.¡± Annie nodded. ¡°Whatever I write is going to need to acknowledge the Lord¡¯s pride in a city he¡¯s ruled over for almost 700 years.¡±


    ¡°Frickin¡¯ <i>dwarves</i>¡­.¡± I muttered sotto voce.


    ¡°Did you say something Pete?¡± Annie asked a little too sweetly.


    ¡°Nope. I may have ideas for stuff to put in for Prophet Barnes. I, er, talk to him a lot when hees in for his Goatherd Pie.¡± Plus, I was pretty sure he considered me a special case. That could go both ways, but I was willing to bet he¡¯d be on our side.


    ¡°Oh, hey!¡± Kirk eximed. ¡°THAT Prophet! He¡¯s a swell guy! He always leaves me an extra gold or two on the table!¡±


    ¡°And then there¡¯s ckbeard¡­¡± Annie finished, her frown deepening.


    ¡°An honest to goodness ckbeard¡­¡± Aqua sighed. ¡°I wonder what he¡¯s really like?¡±


    ¡°Who or what¡¯s a ckbeard?¡± Kirk asked.


    ¡°One o¡¯ de oldest and most famous ns in Crack. More dan one or two kings ¡®avee from der numbah.¡± Richter professored. ¡°Unlike de other big ns, dey haven''t suffered any major setbacks from Monster Stampedes, and dey won every Feud dey ever fought. And so dey are many. There''s a branch o¡¯ da ckbeards in Minnova, under cksmith Battlehammer ckbeard. He runs da Grand Market Smithy. De ckbeard from de capital is¡­ well, I dunno. Johnsson?¡±


    ¡°Louis ckbeard is womanizing sonnuvanannygoat whose mother is embarrassed she ever let him out from under her beard.¡± Johnsson announced savagely. ¡°He''s <i>most </i>famous for recently being buried headfirst in a goat privy by ady he was ¡®courting¡¯. He then had the <i>gall</i> to bring her before the courts for disrespecting a noble. He¡¯s a <i>cad</i>, and he wouldn¡¯t know good beer if it bit his foot.¡±


    We all blinked at his sudden vehemence.


    Annie coughed. ¡°I¡¯m not writing that in the note.¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 47: Copper and Gold

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 47: Copper and Gold</h4>


    The note took a few hours, and then a few more. Annie stopped for the dinner rush, and in thete hours of the night, finished the first draft.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ fine. I guess.¡± I read over it for the fifth time. ¡°But it really could use a bit more pizazz.¡±


    Annie shook her head and yanked the page back. ¡°No. No pizzaz! The Lord is as straightced as theye, and any pizzazz is likely to throw off ckbeard.¡±


    ¡°Prophet Barnes will appreciate it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe¡­ but Barnes is <i>already</i> on our side no matter what, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeeeees. I hope.¡± I gave Annie some side-eye. I¡¯d told her the full extent of my rtionship with Barck earlier this month, just to head off any more friction and make sure she didn¡¯t get blindsided. She hadn¡¯t been very happy about it, but she¡¯d admitted that she had guessed something like that was going on


    I was still keeping the ¡®Annie is the First Brewer¡¯ thing a secret, though. That one wasing with me to my grave.


    ¡°Are you sure the reference to goatherd pie is clear enough, while still remaining anonymous?¡± Annie asked, giving the note a pensive look.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to be able to remain anonymous. Barnes has eaten here and Penelope is delivering the beer. The goatherd pie thing is just in case.¡±


    The judging was a blind taste, where the judges wouldn¡¯t be told which beer came from which brewery. It was ostensibly to help prevent bribery, but in this case it hurt us twice. First, a fancy ad-bedecked cask we¡¯d prepared was now useless, and second, everyone would probably be able to guess which one was us anyway. We had a reputation, after all.


    The contest reminded me of one of the most famous events in wine-making: The Judgment of Paris. In 1976 a pair of wine merchants decided to hold a blind wine tasting with many of France¡¯s top wine judges. The purpose was to drum up business for the show-runner¡¯s wine school, but really it was meant to prove once and for all that french wines were better than the upstarts from California.


    So when the American wines beat their French counterparts in every category, it set off shockwaves in the wine world. Bordeaux and Burgundy, move over, the new king of wine was the Napa Valley!


    It had the side effect of propelling other North American wines into the public consciousness, and it was likely that our own winery wouldn¡¯t have done so well without it.


    They made a movie about the event with n Rickman called Bottle Shock. It was one of my and Caroline¡¯s favourite movies.


    I tapped my fingers on the paper. ¡°No, the pie is fine. But do we really need to butter ckbeard up so much?? What you wrote there would seriously turn me off.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s just right. Think of him as Browning on a <i>bad</i> day.¡±


    ¡°Ew.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    We were interrupted by knocking at the door, and Kirk stuck his head down. ¡°Hey bossman, Copperpot¡¯s here to see you.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll be right out. Annie, I think it looks fine. Do you want to write up the final version?¡±


    Annie pulled her beard. ¡°No. I¡¯ll ask John to do it. He¡¯s getting bored at home, and he does beautiful quillwork.¡±


    ¡°Quillwork!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s traditional.¡±


    ¡ª


    Copperpot had bags under his eyes.


    ¡°Pretzel and beer?¡± I asked, as I plunked into the seat across from him


    ¡°Barista brew? Please.¡± Copperpot sighed and took off his beanie. It was the first time I¡¯d seen him without. The gnome had a bald as bald could possibly be baldspot; I could practically see my reflection in his head. He rubbed at his temples and groaned.


    ¡°You know, you shouldn¡¯t get high on your own supply.¡± I said as I hopped up to pour him a whistlemug full of pick-me-up from a keg behind the bar. We weren¡¯t offering the barista brew for sale yet, it was still ted to be revealed at the same time as us winning the contest, but we¡¯d been doling it out as ¡®taste trials¡¯ to our most avid gnomish customers. It was helping build hype, and if there was one thing the hyperactive pro-drinker Beatbox was good at, it was hype.


    Rumbob had dered the drink ¡®ho-ho-horrible for his heart¡¯ and sworn to never touch it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know that saying, Peter, but I¡¯ll assume it means not to over-imbibe on a stat-altering substance of my own design. Alchemists usually say ¡®don¡¯t ask for your own sk.¡¯¡±


    ¡°So, why do you look like you¡¯ve been dealing with assassins and sabotage attempts all month?¡±


    Copperpot gave me a withering look. ¡°Because I <i>HAVE</i> been dealing with assassins and sabotage attempts all month.¡±


    I tutted. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the Mine corporation be dead in the water at this point? You¡¯ve taken over their mines, using <i>my</i> money I might add, and hired or scared away most of their workers. Nothing too over the top there, I hope?¡±


    Copperpot took a deep dreg of his Barista Brew and sank back into his chair. ¡°Ahhh, that hits the spot. No, anyone who abuses general workers during Corporate Combat would find themselves in the ck books of every gnome in Crack. We all know the drill during a hostile takeover. Most could see the depth of the dive and are already working at otherpanies by this point.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Feuds are so much better.¡±


    ¡°I told you, Feuds are so much better <i>now</i>. They used to result in theplete annihtion of entire ns.¡± Copperpot frowned. ¡°Especially Blood Feuds. Honestly, this entire thing with the Mine Corporation is the messiest affair I¡¯ve ever been involved in. It¡¯s far too expensive and dangerous for how amateur it¡¯s been.¡±


    And considering he was hundreds of years old, that was quite the statement.


    ¡°If it¡¯s so amateur, why are you finding it so hard to win?¡± I took a sip of some Barista Brew of my own. I¡¯d been finding a small amount of it to be a lovely pick-me-up after the evening rush. Aqua was bing more obsessed with it than Richter with his Liquid Gold.


    ¡°I don¡¯t <i>know</i>!¡± Copperpot actually <i>whined</i>, then thumped his fists on the table. ¡°We had to fend off another two attacks on the brewery, and one at each of the new mines. Nothing as sophisticated as that first one, but enough that I have my best teams working double and triple overtime. It¡¯s running our coffers out <i>fast</i>. I don¡¯t understand how they¡¯re <i>affording </i>it!!¡±


    He growled and grumbled then took another sip of Barista Brew. Then he drained the entire mug in deep gulps and pounded it down on the table.


    ¡°Ano- *hic* - nother!¡± He shoved the empty whistlemug back to me, and I let it wobble as I raised an eyebrow. ¡°... please," he finished.


    I rose to refill the mug as he continuedining.


    ¡°Thest two mercenary teams weren¡¯t even <i>from </i>Minnova. One of them was actually a fairly decent adventuring team from Kinshasa. Not named adventurer level, but good enough. We got one free request out of letting them go, but they couldn¡¯t tell us anything about who¡¯d hired them. Are you sure Ambermine is still holed up in Mine Manor?¡±


    I finished the pour and sat back down. Copperpot went straight to chugging as I considered his question. ¡°I walked byst night and during my afternoon walk; I <i>know</i> you got those reports. Ambermine is still holed up in the manor. If he¡¯s left, it¡¯s been when I wasn¡¯t around, or he has an Ability to fool mine.¡±


    Copperpot banged his mug back down on the table again.¡±By Aaron¡¯s Fancy Freckled Arse!! How is he doing it then! Nobody¡®se or gone!! Diamondmine hasn¡¯t left either! They could be usingmstones, but again, the <i>expense</i>!¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Who knows. Maybe he has a wealthy backer in Kinsasha?¡±


    Copperpot bit a few of his nails. ¡°Maybe¡­ but who would support a failing gnomish business? Why? What would they gain out of it? And <i>who</i>.¡±


    ¡°Who knows.<i></i>Ask your fancy covert ops teams.¡±


    ¡°I <i>did!</i>¡±


    ¡°Ah, tough break then.¡±


    Copperpot sipped at the dregs of his mug and sighed deeply again. ¡°Only one more week and everything will be significantly less hectic. If Liquid Gold and Barista Brew explode, we¡¯ll be able to expand and improve liquidity fast enough that the Mine Corporation won¡¯t be able to touch us.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not good enough!¡± I snapped, my vision shing red for an instant. ¡°He needs to pay, not just go bankrupt in luxury.¡±


    Copperpot flinched back. ¡°Well, obviously it isn¡¯t enough, Peter, but we need to do what we can. If he wants to stay hidden up in his hole like a dwarf in a freschie, we¡¯ll just have to remove the mine supports around him.¡±


    We sat in angry silence for a while as we considered. Copperpot was vibrating and inattentive, by which I assumed he¡¯d gotten a bit too ¡®blitzed¡¯.


    The crux of the problem was money. Even my own supply was not inexhaustible, and we had no idea how deep the Mine Corporation''s coffers were. As long as they could just keep paying for people to harry us, we were stuck ying defense for who knew how long. Copperpot had hopes they wouldy off after a sessfulunch, but I was pretty sure he was still applying rational thought to Ambermine and Diamondmine¡¯s actions.


    They didn¡¯t sound rational to me. This sounded like a ¡®break my bones to make my enemy bleed¡¯ kind of situation. A situation that I just¡­ didn¡¯t want to deal with.


    I wanted to brew and have fun with my friends and save beer. It still had a lot of saving needed, and I was the only one who could do it. Well, Annie was on the right path now, so there was at least one more. Plus, all this red rage or whatever goatshite was crimping my style; I just didn¡¯t have the time for it.


    I needed to delegate. Money was the problem, so who did I know that was good with money? [sh of Insight].


    Copperpot twitched as I began to chuckle, then guffaw, then pound the table with paroxysms ofughter. ¡°Har har har! I know <i>exactly</i> how to handle the Mine Corporation and their mystery money! Corporate Combat is technically illegal, but we can''t go to the guard, right? Tell me, how do you usually cook your books to hide those expenses?¡±


    Copperpot frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a trade secret, but likely close to what you''re imagining."


    Non-existent workers, padded bonuses, and bribes paid out as ¡®material expenses¡¯, and so on and so forth. Marketing was still somewhat foreign to the guild and family business dominated Crack, but their tax and ounting practices were practicallybyrinthine. It was why they had yearly audits. Usually they had a long time to prepare, and if Whistlemop was any indication, hiding money was part of the game. But if this was amateur hour and the Mines were ying fast and loose with a <i>lot</i> more money than they should have¡­


    "What happens if someone is stupid enough to get caught in an audit?"


    "Nobody gets caught. Anyone who would, deserves getting crushed."


    "Hehehe. Crushed. Such a lovely word. I''m <i>crushing </i>on it right now."


    ¡°Did you have an idea?¡±


    My grin was wolfish. ¡°Oh yes. I know someone who <i>technically</i> doesn¡¯t owe me a favour, but would love to do their job if I pointed them in the right direction.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    I told him. Then he beganughing too.

 Book 2: Chapter 48: The Octamillenial Brewing Contest

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 48: The Octamillenial Brewing Contest</h4>


    And so I found myself in the Arena of Minnova once again. Hopefully for thest time.


    I thought back fondly to that day of the Barck Beer Brawl. That had been¡­ almost exactly one year ago,e to think of it. It was just me and Balin against the world then. Things had certainly changed.


    First of all, a two-dozen dwarf contingent of bag-pipers was currently marching around the wall of the arena sting a rousing rendition of ¡®Pomp and Circumstance¡¯, or something equally pompous. It was quite entertaining, especially with all the jets of me erupting from a bigger bagpipe the size of a cello.


    And this time I wasn¡¯t alone. The Thirsty Goat and our hangers-on took up a good sized section of the Arena. In the stands behind us, Rumbob, Beatbox, and the rest of the pro-drinkers were setting up some kind of cheer device invented by Beatbox¡¯s youngest daughter (he was still banned from tinkering). Emerelda twirled her red braids and waved at me; I gave her a wide smile back. Behind <i>them</i> were a dozen faces I recognized from our recent weekly axescggen night. I spotted Aqua¡¯s father Tom and his wife and waved at them. Tom was wearing Thirsty Goat gear and seemed excited by the atmosphere. Richter and Johnsson sat on a small cask of Liquid Gold they¡¯d smuggled in for post-win celebrations and were cheering the bagpipers on. A second cask full of secret pretzels sat under my own tooshie.


    Then there were at least another couple rows of regrs. In fact, there were a <i>lot</i> of our regrs. They well outnumbered our cluster of employees, and I spotted Berry¡¯s manager Amethyst alongside Aqua running up and down the stands selling Thirsty Goat branded gambesons. Two gold per piece.


    No sense in wasting a good chance for hustle.


    Looking out over thepetition, it was easy to spot the individual breweries by their new logos.


    There were:


    Caskitt¡¯s Full Cask


    Rudd¡¯s Ruddy Bloodbrews


    Drum¡¯s Rusty Battleaxe


    Icewhite¡¯s Moon over Minnova


    Cimon¡¯s Drunken Duck


    Crackle¡¯s Crackin¡¯ Brews


    Fault¡¯s Faultless Brews


    The other breweries were in attendance as well, but not worth mentioning. Each section was teeming with brown-robed apprentices, and they <i>all </i>had branded gear simr to our own.


    I could smell Malt¡¯s involvement in that.


    In fact¡­


    ¡°Oy, Malt!¡± I shouted down to the sands of the Arena.


    The small white haired and steel-armoured figure down below squinted up and waved. He shouted back unnaturally loudly with his Ability. ¡°I greet you on this most auspicious day, Brewer Pete!¡±


    ¡°¡®I greet you on this most auspicious day¡¯ to you too. Why¡¯re ya down there? I thought this was being run by tha city!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been asked to announce as the Guildmaster of the Brewer¡¯s Guild! They bribed me with tarts!¡±


    ¡°What kinda bribe¡­¡± I muttered, as the elderly dwarf cheerfully hobbled over to the raised tform in the center of the Arena.


    There wasn¡¯t anything big this time. No pic tables or ck armoured attendants. No makeshift market or kitchen counters.


    There was a single raised tform in the center of the arena with arge ornate pic table and three separate chairs. A fancy lectern stood to the side with a stool behind it. The same enchantments that had allowed us to see zoomed in scenes of the cooking contest were set up to give the entire arena a close-up of the seats. Thergest and fanciest chair had the symbol of Minnova on it. The chair to its right was inset with the symbology of the Gods, and the chair to its left had a pair of crossed axes with a beard oveying them chiseled into the backrest.


    Sooooo, the Grand Lord, Prophet Barnes, and Louis ckbeard - who, it should be noted, wasn¡¯t a Titled <i>anything</i>. Not even a [Politician]. From Johnsson¡¯s stories about him, I still couldn¡¯t believe he was a noble. Doc Opal had taught me waaaaaay back when that dwarven nobility was earned, but that was clearly as much a crock-of-shite as any such ims back on Earth. Old money and big ns ensured nobility was kept within old money and big ns. Sure, dwarves like Bran <i>could</i> earn nobility through impressive work and fame, but they were few and far between.


    No wonder there was a little civil-disturbance pressure cooking in Kinshasa. I was going to need to visit one of the Great Charter rallies at least once.


    ¡°Hey¡­ is that who I think it is?¡± Aqua caught my attention and pointed to one of the knots of brewing apprentices.


    I squinted. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Is that our goatboy? He just ran under that banner of a moon over the spreading tree of Minnova.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°You know! The [Therian] who applied to the brewery but fought with Penelope?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Are you a godsbedamned owl!?¡±


    ¡°Caw-CAW!¡±


    Aqua punched me in the shoulder.


    I rubbed it absentmindedly. ¡°O. Ya mean Jack be-nimble, jack be-quick, jack ran away from a goatly tiff? Aye, I see him!¡±


    Jack was indeed settling into his seat amongst the apprentice brewers of <i>Moon over Minnova. </i>All the white hair in that section made him stick out like a sore thumb.


    Aqua hissed. ¡°He joined Icewhite?? That traitor!¡±


    ¡°He never signed on with us. He¡¯s not a traitor. Just a poor judge of character.¡± I sniffed. Nobody who had such terrible things to say about Penelope could be a good person. Him joining Icewhite¡¯s <i>Moon Over Minnova</i> confirmed it.


    ¡°Speaking of which. Is Annie good to go with Penelope?¡±


    ¡°Aye. And she¡¯s got Balin with her.¡±


    All of the breweries were required to send in a single goat-driven-cart with a cask of beer. That was the way the Sacred Brew had been delivered to the dwarven mines since time immemorial. All the casks had to be the same, and the goats were all covered in armour to help keep them anonymous.


    It had taken the better part of the month to get Penelope to wear the stuff. Bribing her with Liquid Gold and brushies had helped.


    We were lucky the armour still fit. She was starting to bulge out of it.


    ¡°Oh! Oh! It¡¯s startin¡¯!¡± Richter pointed to where Malt was now standing in front of the lectern.


    The bagpipes screeched to an ear-splitting crescendo then died, and the din of the crowd died with them. Malt¡¯s Ability enhanced voice echoed out in the quiet. ¡°One and all! I wee you to this celebration of our Sacred Brew! The Guild of Brewers thanks you for your attendance, and our great country fer the chance to show our craft! We have eight of our finest breweriespeting this day for the distinction of the greatest brewer in Minnova! I am your host today, the Guildmaster of the Brewers Guild, Master Brewer Malt!¡±


    There was apuse and cheers.


    Malt continued, ¡°Today we have three citizens of our beloved city and country providing their esteemed opinions! They will be judging our contestants on the brew that ¡®best defines a dwarf¡¯!¡±


    He thenunched into the rules we¡¯d been given, along with the format for thepetition. I quickly grew bored and tried to find a way to sitfortably with a warhammer strapped to my back. I¡¯d taken to carrying te Goldstone¡¯s hammer when I went out, and it was a bit unwieldy.


    As he drew to the end of his speech, Malt raised a hand and pointed to the portcullis in the arena wall. ¡°And now, I¡¯d like to announce the first of our judges! The Thorned Rose of Crack! yer of the Brindlewurm! Killer of the Emperor-vine! [Undying Fortress of Tiara]! Grand Lord Grafter of Minnova! Please rise and join me in ¡®Minnova the Spreading Tree¡¯!¡±


    Whew, the old codger was really selling it! Those must have been some tarts! I¡¯d seen the Lord at the Beer Brawl and he hadn¡¯t been so -


    As the portcullis rose, there was a palpable feeling of <i>danger</i>. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and beside me Johnsson huped. Then the Grand Lord of MInnova stepped through. Power radiated off him like a wave, and the sand of the arena stirred. He was wearing the same ruby-red high-necked elvis te-armour I¡¯d seen him in at the Beer Brawl, but everything else was <i>transformed</i>. He wore a white cloak made of some kind of animal fur affixed to his armour with golden chains, and he had an enormous sword strapped to his back. His ck beard was long and straight, with a sheared square bottom and his moustache was an even bigger handlebar than Balin¡¯s!


    A mithril circlet on his head was etched with runes, and his eyes glowed white from some kind of Ability. His gaze swept over the stands and I felt frozen in my steps like prey before a predator. He was nked by a pair of steel-shod Highwatch, and as they strode across the sand the bagpipes fired back to life. It was a heady tune full of patriotism and literal fire. In the noble¡¯s stands, a gout of me rose to the sky, and I spotted a mage weaving sigils in the air with a wand. At her direction the fire crackled into a flowering tree, and the crowd began to sing. It was a deep, thrumming tune, each note like the weight of mountains.


    <i>The Spreading Tree</i><i></i>


    <i>Our roots run deep.</i><i></i>


    <i>Through erd, and rock, and stones.</i><i></i>


    <i>Minnova of our ancestors,</i><i></i>


    <i>It dwells within our bones.</i>


    <i>Not cutting leaves</i><i></i>


    <i>Nor biting thorns.</i><i></i>


    <i>Could hold our fathers back!</i><i></i>


    <i>Our mothers fought to found this ce</i><i></i>


    <i>Here in the depths of Crack!</i>


    <i>Eight thousand years</i><i></i>


    <i>Eight thousand more.</i><i></i>


    <i>We journey in the dark.</i><i></i>


    <i>Though branches seek to block our path,</i><i></i>


    <i>They bleed when we cut bark.</i>


    <i>Beseech the Gods</i><i></i>


    <i>To Bless us all</i><i></i>


    <i>And give thanks for our home!</i><i></i>


    <i>Minno-ova, Minno-ova,</i><i></i>


    <i>A ce for all who roam! </i>


    <i>Minno-ova, Minno-ova,</i><i></i>


    <i>We watch the ways for thee!</i><i></i>


    <i>Minno-ova, Minno-ova,</i><i></i>


    <i>Ho-ome of the tree!</i>


    For a moment I was back in Vancouver, watching the good old hockey game. We were singing <i>Oh Canada</i> in the stands of Rogers Arena. Sammy was wearing an orca hat almost as big as her head and Caroline¡¯s face was painted blue. The Canucks were losing <i>again.</i>


    Then the world snapped back into focus. The blue was Aqua¡¯s beard, and the orca hat was a goat stenciled carefully on a Thirsty Goat banner.


    I cheered with everyone else, my voice only cracking a little, as the Grand Lord sat in his ornate chair in the center of the stage.


    Malt¡¯s voice called out again and this time his voice was solemn. ¡°Our next judge. Master of Minnova Cathedral. The voice of the Gods in central Crack. [Doorkeeper of the Pinnacle]. Prophet Barnes.¡±


    And then there was silence, like a switch had been thrown. Not even a cough, except for a single drunken dwarf who cheered then screamed as he was tossed out a window. The figure of Prophet Barnes walked out onto the sand. He was wearing his white robe of office with the gold stitching and was nked on both sides by blue mithril-armoured guards.


    To the dwarf (and gnome), everyone in the stands raised their hands in the pointer-and-pinky-finger-straight-up with-the ring-finger-down-and-middle-and-thumb-fingers meeting-in-the-middle holy-sign. The eerie stillness continued until the elderly Prophet arrived at the table and sat. He and Lord Grafter nodded at each other as the crowd let out a collective breath.


    ¡°And finally,ing to us all the way from Kinshasa to provide input from the capital nobility! Son of the Duke of the East! Baron of Copperfort! Louis ckbeard!¡±


    The dwarf that entered next was theplete opposite of Prophet Barne¡¯s simple self assuredness, andcked the Lord¡¯s regal power. He wore a set of ck clothes. Like, an actual <i>suit uniform</i>, not chain, or padded leather, or scale mail, or any form of armour I could see. The cuffs and seams of his suit were lined with silver thread, and his belt had some kind of dark purple rufflycey thing running underneath it. His ck beard almost dragged on the floor as he walked, and it was weighted down with a mass of jewelry tied in amongst a myriad of knotwork. A white ruff billowed out from beneath his cor and framed his beard, making it really pop.


    From what I could tell, he was tall for a dwarf, almost the same height as Jeremiah. Oh, no, skip that, his shining, ck, steel-toed boots had high heels.


    He only had a single guard with him, a figure in fancy golden armour. Said guard carried a shield and mace and looked pathetically out of ce as he moved in next to the businesslike Highwatch and deadly church guards.


    Balin wore it better.


    The crowd¡­ cheered-ish. And then it was time.


    ¡°May the Luck of Barck be with our contestants!¡± Malt called in the first goat, and a dappled brown unigoat trundled in through the portcullis bearing a cartden with a single cask.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: The Best Brewer Part 1</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Go win your contest. </i><i></i>


    <i>I expect something delicious.</i><i></i>


    <i></i>


    <i>Obtain the title of Best Brewer in Minnova: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Obviously I clicked ''yes''.

 Book 2: Chapter 51: The Last Competitors

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 51: The Last Competitors</h4>


    ¡°Did we just win?¡± Johnsson asked, peering blearily up at ckbeard¡¯s image.


    ¡°I t¡¯ink we did?¡± Richter said, rising to his feet. ¡°WOO! FER CRACK AN - ¡°


    This time it was me <i>and</i> Annie pulling the half-drunk pair back down to the floor.


    ¡°Not a good time!¡± Annie hissed. ¡°The contest isn¡¯t over! And everyone is going to be <i>pissed</i> about this!!¡±


    ¡°*Groan* ckbeard was supposed ta be a problem, but this is <i>ridiculous</i>!¡± I cupped my face in both hands and groaned again. ¡°He loves us <i>too much</i>!?¡±


    Could we escape the arena without being torn apart by angry [Brewers]? It would have been one thing if we¡¯d won after the fact, but ckbeard¡¯s little show made it look like he wasn¡¯t going to give anyone after us a fair shake.


    Down below, Malt was as pale as his hair. ¡°Aheh. That was an excellent joke, Lord ckbeard! Liquid Gold was <i>that </i>good? I¡¯ll need to try it myself when we¡¯re all done!¡±


    ckbeard went to reply, but Lord Grafter nailed him with a steely gaze. The naughty young noble shrank back in his seat, much as I had under the force of that re.


    A few fights began in the audience, but Lord Grafter nailed them with that same glowy angry-eyes trick and they stopped dead in their tracks. My kindergarten teacher would have <i>loved</i> that trick.


    Prophet Barnes replied to the Lord¡¯s earlier remark as though nothing had just happened, ¡°I think you¡¯re correct, Lord Grafter. It¡¯s impossible ta define a dwarf through the use of our brew, no matter how sacred. This is a noble attempt, though.¡±


    Grafter tapped his fingers on the table in thought. ¡°Hmmm¡­ I prefer Rudd¡¯s take on it, actually. The Red Rage is at least a part of us. Can we really say we¡¯re defined by a metal, no matter how much we love it?¡±


    As the pair continued their conversation the atmosphere in the arena cleared up. We were still dwarf-non-grata, but at least there weren¡¯t several hundred axes aimed in our direction. Just the asional angry re and threatening throat-cutting gesture.


    ¡°See!?¡± I growled at the drunken pair. ¡°We haven¡¯t actually won yet! We still could lose!¡±


    ¡°Aye, don¡¯t count your goats before they¡¯re shorn, you two.¡± Aqua nodded. ¡°And I¡¯m going to go use thedies room. Want toe with, Annie?¡±


    Annie stood. ¡°To look for an escape route?¡±


    ¡°To look for an escape route.¡±


    ¡°Want me tae too?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°Hmmm. Maybe you should.¡± Annie gave Balin a smile and the three headed to the exit.


    ¡°Well, thank you to our <ipletely anonymous brewery</i> for that lovely Liquid Gold! I¡¯d like to call in the next goat please!¡± Malt¡¯s voice was only slightly quavery.


    Penelope obediently puttered out of the arena, though she made onest threatening bite in the direction of Moon over Minnova.


    I didn¡¯t have the energy to care. I <i>knew</i> Richter¡¯s behaviour in the library that day hadn¡¯t beenpletely feigned! Sacred Brew was such a part of their identity that certain dwarves were predisposed to go <i>nuts</i> when they had a better version. It was probably psychological, but I couldn¡¯t discount a trick of biology or something Godly. The Brew had be Sacred <i>somehow</i>, and this could be an insight into how. I had to hope nobody else ever twigged to it, or new brews might be banned, if only to prevent riots.


    The next goat wheeled in, this time a in brown billy with a long beard. The section of the Arena held by Master Caskitt''s Full Cask Brewery cheered, but it felt forced. Master Brewer Caskitt was standing on the arena wall pumping her fist to get a rise out of her apprentices, but it just wasn¡¯t working. She was wearing a ruby red set of scale mail instead of her usual ck brewer¡¯s armour, and it shed terribly with her green beard. She turned and flipped me a rude gesture. Damn ckbeard! I should be feeling <i>happy</i> right now! They loved our brew!!


    I decided to focus on that.


    Malt went through the same motions as before, pouring and passing the mugs around. The beer this time was the standard True Brew, with the addition of extra¡­ guck. It looked like there was more than the regr clumps of yeast and vegetable matter spinning around in the mugs.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a Full Cask Brew before¡­¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s that in there?¡±


    I was met by silence. Johnsson was in the middle of retching while Richter held his beard back, and everyone else had left.


    From behind me, a booming voice answered with familiarughter.


    ¡°*Ho Ho Ho*! Full Casks always have extra stuff in ¡®em. They im that it¡¯s the ¡®vour of Minnova¡¯ but they¡¯ve been censured for it by the Guild in the past. I think it¡¯s a load of hooey; I got a bat in my keg once.¡±


    I wanted to ask a few more questions about that horrifying revtion, but we were immediately pulled back to the stage as Malt began reading the new note.


    ¡°What makes a dwarf is the hard work and effort we put into everything we do. Whether it¡¯s diving in the mines, hammering steel, or battling our enemies, we are always at one hundred percent. Our ale aimed to capture that feeling. Our workers tirelessly stirred, watched over, and put the sweat of their brows into the beer you see before you. Their muscles strained, their hearts swelled, and their throats sang the praises of Minnova as they did so. We give to you, the Taste of a Dwarf.¡±


    Rumbob snorted. ¡°If it¡¯s a Full Cask, that¡¯s probably literal. I¡¯d be willin¡¯ ta bet there¡¯s actual sweat in that beer.¡±


    I retched. ¡°Ew!!! How did they not have a failed batch with all that contamination??¡± And Caskitt had been the angriest about me adding stuff to the Sacred Brew! What a hypocrite!!


    ¡°*Ho Ho Ho!* I have it on good authority that they have a lot o¡¯ failures!¡±


    Back in the arena, Barnes was looking through the ss of his whistlemug. ¡°Hmmm¡­ I see quite a bit more crunch than usual. This must be a Full Cask.¡±


    ¡°Are you ever going to let me have the first word, Prophet Barnes?¡± Grafter grumbled. ¡°Aye, I agree on it bein¡¯ a Full Cask. I¡¯ve always been partial to their ales. They have a good bit more meat in them than the usual brew.¡±


    ckbeard had calmed back down, and adjusted his cor. He spoke up, ¡°I do apologize for my earlier outburst. I am simply a true aficionado of the Sacred Brew and I was momentarily taken aback by the amazing quality of the Liquid Gold. I assure the audience that I will remain impartial in my judging!¡±


    He smiled up at the ¡®invisible¡¯ audience, but nobody smiled back.


    ¡°Yer not supposed ta be impartial ya idjit! Yer a <i>JUDGE</i>! Yer supposed to be FAIR!¡± Someone shouted back.


    ckbeard clearly hadn¡¯t heard, Barnes and Grafter clearly had, as they both smirked while they drank.


    Barnes shook his head as he finished. ¡°Hmmm¡­ tastes just like a normal Full Cask. Nothing special.¡±


    Grafter smacked his lips then wiped his moustache with a kerchief. ¡°I liked their description though. Our hard work <i>does</i> separate us from tha other races. Especially the dragons and elves.¡±


    ¡°Aye. Their beer is unique, too.¡±


    ¡°It reminds me of a few breweries in East Kinshasa, actually.¡± ckbeard held his ss up to the light. ¡°They all use a special method to get a more full-bodied beer. I am personally not a fan of it, preferring a lighter touch upon my pte. They presented a good description of what it means to be a dwarf, but it focuses a bit too much on physical toil when we are so much more.¡± He gathered himself up and huffed as though personally offended.


    Caskitt looked like she¡¯d sucked on a lemon.


    I shed my teeth. ¡°Hah! She forgot to butter up ckbeard in her note!¡±


    ¡°*Ho Ho Ho!* That¡¯s because she can¡¯t think of anyone but herself!*


    After a few more minutes of discussion,paring the various beers they¡¯d tried so far, Malt called in the next goat.


    This time it was another pure white goat, quite simr to Penelope in stature. She trotted gaily up to the stage while Moon Over Minnova cheered. The pall over the arena had mostly lifted, and I had to hope that it would be fully clear by the time the contest ended. Icewhite was standing proudly at the front of her apprentices, and gave a cheery wave to Cimon. He glowered back.


    As Malt poured Moon over Minnova¡¯s drink, Aqua, Annie, and Balin returned.


    ¡°We found a quick run to a window that¡¯ll get us out of the arena.¡± Annie said as she sat beside me. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a drop, but it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to be fast, though!¡± Aqua added.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry!¡± A squeaky voice slurred from behind us. A drunk Beatbox leaned over Rumbob¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll help you if it turns into a fight!¡±


    The patrons closest to him all variously hefted weapons and made murderous noises of agreement. Then one joker shouted, ¡°FER CRACK AND ANNIE!¡± and the rest joined in.


    Annie went beat red and kicked Balin in the shin. ¡°This is <i>all your fault</i>!¡± She hissed.


    ¡°Aye, but you deserve it.¡± Balin smiled, and fondled her beard. Then he leaned in and the two kissed passionately.


    ¡°Ugh. Get a cave, you two.¡± I muttered. Then I thought about kissing Caroline like that. Pulling her beard back and - er, hmmm¡­ the thought didn¡¯t bother me as much anymore.


    Down below, Malt had begun reading the note. ¡°The Sacred Brew. All dwarves know its taste from the first time they wet their moustache. From the youngest babe to the oldest greybeard, from the most wise and handsome of nobles to the most uncouth [Berzerker], all know and love the most sacred of alcohols. The elves have their wines, the humans their spirits, the gnomes their coffee, beastkin their mead, and the dragons their liqueurs, but we know which brew is true. The Sacred Brew is what separates the dwarves from all other races, and the love of it is what makes us <i>dwarves</i>.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ not bad.¡± Barnes mused. ¡°I cannae say I¡¯m surprised.¡±


    ¡°Hah! And here I was saying we can¡¯t define ourselves with beer!¡± Lord Grafter gave a barkingugh. ¡°Well, let¡¯s see how it tastes!¡±


    ¡°It smells and looks like a regr True Brew.¡± ckbeard eyed his ss suspiciously. ¡°Is it really? Minnova has some odd ideas for brew.¡±


    ¡°Says tha dwarf that went mad over Liquid Gold,¡± Barnes chuckled.


    ¡°This one has to be Moon over Minnova.¡± Grafter said, as though he hadn¡¯t just probably seen them give a standing ovation. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. They¡¯re like Faultless.¡±


    The three judges took a drink and nodded appreciatively.


    ¡°Aye. That¡¯s a good True Brew.¡± Barnes said. ¡°Heady and full of memories.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ not quite at the capital¡¯s level, but good regardless. It is eptable, and I do agree with their description of what it means to be a dwarf.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good True Brew. But not as good as Faultless.¡± Lord Grafter tapped his mug as he spoke.


    There was a chorus of mockingughter from Faultless Brewery, and Moon over Minnova began shaking fists and axes in their direction.


    ¡°Hah! Take that Icewhite, you sunnovanannygoat!¡± Annie cheered. ¡°Penelope was right to chew you out!¡±


    ¡°Aye!¡± Richter and Johnsson shouted.


    ¡°Ew. Johnsson, clean your beard.¡± Aqua passed the drunk dwarf a cloth.


    ¡°It helps our chances that Icewhite and Faultless both used True Brew.¡± Annie grinned. ¡°They taste almost identical. I do agree that Faultless¡¯s is a little more¡­ faultless though.¡±


    I looked around the arena and frowned. ¡°Hey¡­ where did Drum and his apprentices go?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯re sitting right over - ¡° Aqua started, then paused. ¡°Um¡­¡±


    ¡°They left while everyone was gettin¡¯ mad at you.¡± Rumbob exined. ¡°I suspect they¡¯re setting up outside to ambush you lot! *Ho Ho Ho!*¡±


    I frowned. ¡°No¡­ we have a good rtionship with them. Something¡¯s up.¡±


    The next unigoat to enter was an old thing. It had grey hair and wobbled as it walked. It really had to strain against the cart, and beside me Aqua gave a low coo. ¡°Ohh, poor thing. It should be retired, not pulling carts.¡±


    ¡°Got to be Crackin¡¯ Brews,¡± Annie opined. ¡°They¡¯re in as bad a shape as we were a while back.¡±


    Verifying her assumption, the apprentices for Crackin¡¯ Brews rose to their feet and began a choreographed chant. Master Brewer Crackle and his twin sister stood at the front, leading their apprentices through the words. I waved at Crackle, but he didn¡¯t seem to notice. He seemed oddly¡­ tense - even more than I would have expected.


    By now Malt had things down to a science. He poured and passed sses in a blur, then began reading from the note. I got the feeling he was getting desperate to finish things as quickly as possible. This contest was shaping up to be a disaster. Heck, it felt engineered to, and I wondered again about the designers intentions.


    ¡°Ahem! Armour, battle, beers and beards. These are things every dwarf knows well. Whether it¡¯s the sweet scent of a handsome noble¡¯s imperial beard, the charcoal musk of a mine, or the deep oily aroma of a brave city guard¡¯s te, we all know the <i>smell </i>of a dwarf.¡± There was a chorus of agreement, especially from the gnomes in attendance, passed through the audience.


    Malt paused in his reading and tutted his tongue. ¡°I can certainly agree that <i>some</i> of you smell, but <i>I</i> am always wearing the finest of exotic scents from the south. Where was I? Ah, yes - In a world of darkness, it is often the nose that sees the world around you. The nose sees, and remembers. We present to you, the first Scented Brew. All the good taste of True Brew, coupled with a whiff of nostalgia.¡±


    My eyebrows nearly rose above my forehead. Scent was an important part of any brew, and Sacred Brew faintly reeked of bad cheese. Barista Brew smelled a bit better, but that was only because it smelled like <i>burnt coffee</i> and bad cheese. The scent of a beer was usually abination of the adjuncts, the yeasts, and the wort chosen, so I was curious how they¡¯d managed it without changing the vour.


    The three judges leaned into their sses and took deep sniffs. Then Lord Grafter leaned back in his chair and held the ss to his chest, breathing deeply again and again. He closed his eyes and a satisfied smile parted his lips.


    ¡°Ahhhh¡­¡± He sighed, in his deep bass. ¡°Now, this is more like it. Something uniquely <i>dwarf</i>. That¡¯s what I remember the most from me battles. The sights are just a blur, and I''ve forgotten tha names of nearly all my enemies, but every night I dream of the heady scent of blood, oil, and metal.¡±


    ¡°But how does it taste?¡± Barnes asked, and took a sip. He nodded. ¡°Hmm¡­ tastes like usual. Would you like to guess the brewery, Lord Grafter?¡±


    Grafter drank as well, deeper than usual. ¡°It tastes exactly like a Crackin¡¯ Brew. And yet, it doesn¡¯t. It may be that the <i>smell </i>is making the <i>taste </i>more nostalgic. I think this is my favourite yet.¡±


    ckbeard nodded as he finished his. ¡°I find myself preferring the <i>vour </i>of the Liquid Gold, but this scented beer is unique in its own way. It captures everything I love about living in Crack. It is somehow Sacred Brew, and yet, dare I say, something more.¡±


    ¡°And a much better description.¡± Grafter pped. ¡°Bravo!¡±


    Crackin'' Brews roared their approval back, and Crackle and his sister hugged for joy. Good for them! And I was going to need to hit up Crackle to figure out his trick; an Ability or magic most likely. It looked like we finally had goodpetition for first ce too!


    Malt called for thest unigoat, and everyone leaned forward on their seats as a te-grey unigoat plodded into the arena. The final contestant - The Rusty Battleaxe.


    ¡°Ah, thest of our <ipletely anonymous breweries</i>.¡± Malt gave a happy shout. ¡°Thank you everyone fer your incredible brews thus far! I look forward to seeing who wins!¡±


    He poured out three drinks and continued, ¡°and now, the final note! These have all been a bigger treat to read than Shalea¡¯s scones! Ha! Well now, this one is quite a bit shorter than the others!¡±


    ¡°Rusty Battleaxe.¡± Barnes and Grafter said at the same time. Their eyes were scanning the stands, and Grafter¡¯s massive eyebrows were drawn together. He then turned his prating stare on the cask, and got the wide-off look of someone using an Ability.


    ¡°Dwarves are our beards. This one will put hair on ya, even if yer a ckjawed noble.¡± Malt read cheerily, but faltered as he reached the end of the very short note. ¡°Um¡­.¡±


    ¡°Well, I <i>never!</i>¡± ckbeard fumed. ¡°How dare they!? Grafter, what kind of cockamamy city are you¡­¡± The young Lord caught himself, and regarded his ss angrily. ¡°Whatever, let us get this over with!¡±


    WIth that, ckbeard drank the beer. Barnes and Grafter exchanged nces, but didn¡¯t drink.


    ¡°Bah. It¡¯s terrible - I.¡± With a poomph, ckbeard¡¯s entire face erupted with hair. ck curly strands erupted from his cheeks, nose, and even ears. He was soon a ck puffball iling his arms on the stage.


    There was a moment of shocked silence, then a few titters. And then the arena burst intoughter. Several of the master brewers looked horrified, and I spotted Master Brewer Fault shaking her head in resignation.


    ¡°Ooooh, that¡¯s bad.¡± Aqua said through pursed lips.


    I sighed. Could something go to n just <i>once?</i>

 Book 2: Chapter 52: The Best Brewer

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 52: The Best Brewer</h4>


    Interludes are best apanied by calming music.


    When the magical screen that separated us from the arena snapped to ¡®opaque¡¯ I passed the time by teaching everyone the lyrics to my favourite songs from ¡®Hairspray¡¯. I was especially proud of my filk of <i>Big, Blonde, and Beautiful</i> into <i>Bluebeard and Beautiful</i>. Aqua had furiously copied everything down to share with Berry during their next get together.


    I¡¯d been concerned that the entire event would get called off, but a bunch of ck-suited ushers ran around to assure everyone that there would be a short intermission while the judges ¡®judged¡¯ and the contest would resume soon. They also tried to sell us overpriced True Brew and nuts. Psh. I was pretty sure every brewery in here had smuggled in a keg or two.


    After a half-hour, the barrier snapped back to transparency, and Malt and the three judges were revealed once more. ckbeard had undergone a quick hair-ectomy, and looked much the same as before, though minus a few golden beard-bangles. He had a slight blush to his cheeks, but that seemed to be the only indication that he¡¯d just been hugely embarrassed before the entire city.


    Malt on the other hand looked like he¡¯d been through a ringer. The poor dwarf had aged at least a century, and he was already old!


    Lord Grafter looked up at the stands and frowned, then spoke in his deep,manding voice.


    ¡°The dwarf known as Drumson Drum is currently wanted for crimes including assault and poisoning of a noble. Any with knowledge of his whereabouts are encouraged ta bring that information forward to tha guard.¡±


    I choked.


    Annie did as well.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it!¡± I hissed.


    ¡°I can¡­¡± Balin grumbled. ¡°That dwarf was always goin¡¯ ta be trouble.¡±


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°Why would he <i>do </i>something like that!¡±


    ¡°Drum has never been a fan of the nobility.¡± Annie said. ¡°From what Sam said about his past¡­ I can understand why.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not all that bad.¡± Balin muttered. ¡°There¡¯s a load like Lord Grafter, or Opal¡¯s family. Tha King too¡­¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I know??¡±


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°Drum probably kept it a secret. I imagine his brewery had to be in on it too, though. No wonder they all left early. I imagine they skipped town.¡±


    ¡°By Midna¡¯s Mangy Mullet. What a <i>waste</i>.¡± Annie groaned. ¡°The Rusty Battleaxe Brewery will be <i>done</i>. And nothing to show for it other than pissing some minor noble off.¡±


    I heaved a breath. ¡°It¡¯s incredible! I¡¯m shocked!¡±


    Kirk gave me some side-eye. ¡°Why do I feel like you¡¯re talking about somethingpletely different than the rest of us, boss?¡±


    I shouted, ¡°HIS NAME IS DRUMSON DRUM!! That poor dwarf! No wonder he¡¯s so ornery!!¡±


    ¡°Aye, he was named after his father, Master Brewer Drum.¡± Richter pitched in, before leaning forward to throw up into a bucket some more.


    ¡°But¡­ he¡­ am I the only one that finds it weird??¡± I looked around in confusion.


    I was met by a dozen dwarfy <i>looks</i>.


    ¡°The judges took the opportunity during the intermission to discuss their thoughts, and we will now be announcing the winners!¡± Malt had managed to calm himself down, sort of. He wiped sweat from his brow and one of his knees was shaking.


    THAT got everyone¡¯s attention, and the Arena erupted back into wild cheering and waving of banners.


    ¡°In third ce! For an excellent True Brew that stayed true to its Sacred roots¡­..¡±


    Faultless and Moon Over Minnova began roaring in earnest, then throwing stuff at each other. Mostly nuts, but I spotted the asional tankard, and dwarf.


    ¡°Faultless Brewery!¡±


    The apprentices in Faultless cheered even harder, but I could tell from Master Brewer Fault¡¯s stoic expression that she was actually a bit down. Ah well, at least she¡¯d beaten that horrid Icewhite!


    Icewhite herself just looked¡­ resigned. She fell back into her seat and looked up into the roof. Her eyes closed and she ignored the apprentices that attempted to get her attention.


    ¡°Next, in second ce!!¡±


    The sound in the arena dropped as everyone took in a collective breath. The current running through our section was palpable. We didn¡¯t <i>actually</i> want second ce. Nobody did. Third was just happy to be included, but second was always second-fiddle.


    I gently rolled Johnsson off his barrel and began a drumroll.


    ¡°For their superb description of what it means to be a dwarf, and a beer that somehow managed to improve True Brew without altering its taste¡­ Crackin¡¯ Brews!!!¡±


    Crackin¡¯ Brewsunched back into their chant, and Master Brewer Crackle was buried under his sister as he was dogpiled.


    ¡°Oh, good for him!¡± Annie clenched her fist. ¡°And I need to ask him how he got the scent to work without changing the taste! I can think of a few tricks with aetherstones that would work, but that would be expensive¡­ it has to be an Ability or alchemy trick¡­¡±


    I wanted to know too. Imagine a beer that <i>smelled</i> like hickory or roses, or <i>chocte</i>. It could go a long way towards enticing any Philistine who didn¡¯t like the taste of beer. Smell <i>one-hundred percent </i>impacted our taste perception, and it was something that was just¡­ <i>really</i> hard to do with beer back on Earth. Oh, sure, our Beavermoose Brewery beer cans always talked big about ¡®notes of cinnamon and the scent of chocte¡¯ but that was all advertising bullshit. A good beer smelled like fermented wort, full stop. This was finally something <i>new</i> about brewing for me to learn!


    ¡°And now, the moment you¡¯ve all been chafing for! The best Brewery in Minnova! Grand Lord Grafter, if you would please you?¡±


    ¡°Aye. It would.¡± Grafter stood and looked around the arena. His tone was regal, and he spoke clearly, annunciating every word so that it echoed. ¡°I have been Lord of Minnova for longer than most of you apprentices and young hopefuls ¡®ave been alive. In that time I¡¯ve seen much of what makes a dwarf. Our strengths. Our weaknesses. Our mettle, and our metal!¡±


    There was a current ofughter and he waited for it to die before continuing.


    ¡°Tha Red Rage. Our love fer Gold. The hard work that drives our bellows and the heart of adventure that drives us into the dungeon. We love our country and it loves us back. So before we announce tha winner!¡± He held an empty Whistlemug up and announced, ¡°Fer Crack and Minnova, the Firmament, and the Luck of Fools!¡±


    Then he lifted a cask one-handed and poured it into his Whistlemug.


    A gleaming golden froth bubbled up and overflowed, as he tipped the ss of Liquid Gold back and chugged it down.


    We barely heard it as Malt announced, ¡°The winner! Thirsty Goat Brewpub!!¡±


    We were too busy screaming.


    ¡ª


    A pair of ushers came to fish us out of the throng, and Annie and I were asked toe down into the bowels of the Arena. We asked if Balin coulde too, and they eventually agreed. We wanted him for hisforting presence in the dark, possibly ninja filled tunnels, but they just wanted him because he looked so damn good in his golden armour and sweeping handlebar moustache.


    We were brought into arge waiting space behind a barred portcullis and told to hurry up and wait while they fetched Penelope. They wanted us to ride the cart into the Arena, do a fewps, and then go to the stage. A victoryp, as it were.


    ¡°We won! We won! We woooon!¡± Annie was practically vibrating. ¡°Now nodwarf can say anything against our new brewing techniques! I want to talk to Crackle sooo much, I bet you they¡¯ll be willing to make Barista Brew and maybe even that wheat beer as well! And Rudd! What did you <i>tell</i> him that he was willing to change the recipe of the Sacred Brew, Pete!?¡±


    ¡°Take me with you when you go to Crackle. I reaaaaally want to know how he did that trick with the smell. As for Rudd¡­ we just talked about brewing.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes it just takes a normal conversation about amon interest. I¡¯ll bet I can do the same with Crackle.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Aye. WIth just a <i>snap</i>, Crackle will <i>Pop</i>! Nyuk!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Balin asked.


    ¡°Hush love. Smile and nod.¡±


    They smiled and nodded.


    I sighed. ¡°There¡¯s Penelope. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    An usher was indeed approaching, pulling Penelope behind. She was still attached to the beer cart and looked affronted.


    *Meeeeh* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°The indignity of using this princess as a beast of burden! How could you!?¡±


    ¡°Heeey Penelope! Who''s a good girl! Did the bad goatboy annoy you??¡± I leaned down and scratched under her chin. She leaned into my hand and bleated contentedly.


    *Maaaaaaa* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°I gave that putrescent peasant a piece of my mind that was well deserved!¡±


    ¡°Yeah! He can suck Aaron¡¯s Fancy Freckled - ¡°


    ¡°Anyways!¡± Annie interrupted. ¡°Who¡¯s sitting in the front?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the Goldstone.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Aye, and tha prettiest of tha lot!¡± Balin agreed.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I protested.


    After a bit of jostling we managed to fit Annie and myself at the front, with Balin bncing on the cask in the rear.


    ¡°They¡¯re ready for you now,¡± the usher announced, and pulled a lever ¡°The sound barriers have been removed, so be prepared.¡±. The portcullis raised, and with a snap of the reins - and a bit of begging - Penelope began to meander up the ramp.


    *grumble* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°You should all lose some weight!¡±


    ¡°Sez you!¡± The three of us said at once, looked at each other, andughed.


    With a sh of blinding light we passed out of the dark tunnel and into the Arena. We were almost sted off the cart with the literal wall of noise that met us. I¡¯d expected some boos, but it was almost all positive. Say what you will about dwarves, they absolutely appreciated good craftsmanship. Love the craft, hate the crafter, I suppose. I mean, there were a <i>couple </i>jeers, but they bounced right off my [Thick Skin].


    Aqua jostled the reins and called out to Penelope to go faster. Penelope obliged, first with reluctance, then mounting excitement as dwarves began to call her name. I also heard a lot of ¡®Fer Crack and Annie!¡¯ mixed in, and grinned.


    For once, Annie was too giddy to care. She basked in the moment as we circled the arena, going faster and faster. Penelope gave it her all as the three of us waved and hugged and absolutely, positively, didn¡¯t weep big heaping snotty tears into our beards.


    I looked up at my brother as he flexed in his [Golden Armour] to uproarious apuse. We¡¯de so far, the two of us. From beggars in the streets of Minnova, to indentured workers, to front and center at the biggest event of the Millenia. He, a hero of Greentree, and me¡­ well, I hoped it wasn¡¯t a viin. An anti-hero! A rebel with a cause! The orchestrator of change in the breweries of Minnova!


    Then there was Annie, a beautiful young dwarfess with bright dreams of change and a love of brewing. I was going to do everything in my power to ensure she got to live those fantasies. I¡¯d teach her everything I knew, and with her insights into dwarven business and outgoing personality, she would <i>shine</i>. We were going to Kinshasa, baby! And we were going to make some <i>waves!</i>


    I basked in the moment, closing my eyes and drinking in the apuse and cheering. The sound of the rattling cart and the bleating of a giddy Penelope. Sand pelted my face and got into my beard, but I didn¡¯t care. I wanted this moment tost forever.


    You¡¯re right, Tom Petty. It¡¯s <i>good</i> to be the king.


    After that headrush, the meeting with Judges went by with a blur. Grand Lord Grafter passed us an enormous golden trophy shaped like a tankard, then gave a small speech about civic pride that wentpletely over my head. ckbeard went on and on about ¡®patroning¡¯ us in Kinshasa. We politely turned him down, citing a desire to see the city first, but he just <i>kept insisting</i>. He only stopped when I promised to take his enchanted business card. It was very simr to Copperpot¡¯s, though with arge ck beard covered by crossed axes on it.


    All Prophet Barnes did was wink.


    I made a victory speech extolling the virtues of dwarven work ethic and the love of Gold. I made sure to praise the Guild, ckbeard, the Gods and of course Penelope. I also mentioned we¡¯d be releasing Liquid Gold along with a special surprise Brew in the Grand Market the day after tomorrow. For her part Annie thanked the city and talked a bunch about how much she was looking forward to the changes happening in brewing. There was some angry muttering about that, and I saw some Master Brewers leaving, but I didn¡¯t let that spoil my mood.


    And then it was done.


    After onest thing, of course.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: The Best Brewer Part 1</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>I am partial to cake. Barck says you can probably make one with beer? </i><i></i>


    <i>Use that new Barista Brew. I do like tea cakes, will it be simr to that?</i>


    <i>Gained: [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]</i>


    Hell yeah!

 Book 2: Chapter 53: Pete’s Miniature Remembrance

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 53: Pete''s Miniature Remembrance</h4>


    I¡¯m pretty sure there was a party.


    I say pretty sure because someone broke out the Barista Brew - probably Copperpot - and I got blitzed and <i>then </i>drunk on Liquid Gold.


    I must have drunk a lot, because while I find the Liquid Gold <i>tolerable</i>, it¡¯s still a bit low on the ABV side. And while I could y around with sugar adjuncts and dry malt extracts to increase alcohol content, I was still doing my ¡®slow but steady¡¯ schtick.


    Which was why I was now seated in an absolutely trashed Thirsty Goat Pub drinking some of Bran¡¯s hangover caudle special - this time made with Barista Brew. Everyone else was still either unconscious in the brewroom, stashed in an alley somewhere between here and the arena, or in a tangle of limbs in a bed somewhere.


    I distinctly remembered kissing Emerelda at some point. Her bright red beard had been done up in curls much like Annie favoured, and her green eyes had been bewitching¡­


    I touched my finger to my lips, I hadn''t kissed anyone but Caroline in a long time. Caroline always tasted like her favourite mint toothpaste. Emerelda had tasted like beer. I groaned as a sharp pain ran between my temples.


    ¡°You doin¡¯ alright, Pete?¡±


    Bran puttered over and examined me. Then he thwacked me on the back. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve finally joined the ranks of the best of the best!¡±


    I moaned again, then replied, ¡°just the best of Minnova so far.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll do well in Kinshasa too! Or I¡¯m a gnomish uncle!¡±


    I perked up at that. That¡¯s right, we were headed to Kinshasa! ¡°That sounds capital! Eh? Eh?¡±


    Bran frowned. ¡°Aye, that¡¯s the name of tha capital.¡±


    I deted. ¡°Sigh. What about you Bran, have you decided about what you¡¯re going to do?¡±


    Bran looked hedgier than a gatedmunity, by which I guessed the answer was no.


    ¡°I¡¯m still thinkin¡¯ Pete. I¡¯ll bein¡¯ with no matter what, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, what if I had a way to help you decide?¡±


    Bran brushed off his apron and sat down beside me. He pulled up another mug of caudle and drank before raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit hard to exin. I got a new Ability." I began.


    ¡°Ah, a Milestone for winnin¡¯ the contest? I didn¡¯t get anything.¡± Bran frowned even harder than usual. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem fair.¡±


    ¡°No, well, not really. Anyways, I think it¡¯ll interest you as soon as I get it working right.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡±


    I pulled up the Ability I¡¯d received upon winning thepetition and read it over.


    <strong>[Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]</strong> -<i> As an Otherworlder, you have memories of things and ces that have never existed. Homesickness can be just as bad as any illness, and this Ability will help to assuage that pain. Allows you to create a miniature object made primarily of Matter. The object must be a previous Possession of great personal significance to you, and one that you have intimate knowledge of. Once summoned, the object willst for an hour.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once an hour.</i>


    ¡°It¡¯s... personal,¡± I finally said.


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t want to share? But why - ¡± Then his eyes widened. ¡°Unless ya mean!¡±


    I nodded, and held my finger to my lips.


    ¡°Ach! Congrattions, Pete! A lot of personal Milestones runnin¡¯ around the ce these days! First Annie, now you!¡± He pped me on the back again.


    My headache spiked. ¡°Agh! Stop doin¡¯ that!¡±


    I read the Ability over again. It was <i>weird</i>; how was I supposed to use it? Did it just let me <i>create </i>something out of nothing? That seemed within the purview of Tiara, Goddess of Possessions and Matter, and it also seemed overpowered. That <i>intimate</i> line had better not mean this thing could only pump out <i>sex toys</i>.


    I held up my hand and said, ¡°[Miniature Remembrance]!¡±


    Nothing happened. I frowned, gave Bran some embarrassed side-eye, cleared my throat and said, ¡°[Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]!¡±


    I held a pose for a moment, and incredibly -


    Nothing happened. Again.


    ¡°Ya know you don¡¯t need ta say it out loud.¡± Bran opined.


    I thumped my fists on the table. ¡°Why does everyone keep <i>saying </i>that!? I¡¯m not the only one, <i>everyone</i> says their Abilities out loud!¡±


    ¡°Och, I dunno.¡± Bran scratched his beard. ¡°It was something my mum used to say a lot. It sticks with you. I think its ''cause shoutin¡¯ Ability names duringbat is a good way to get your head caved in with an axe.¡±


    ¡°Are you nning to brain me with an axe, Bran?¡± I asked with arched eyebrows.


    ¡°Er, no. But you¡¯re right, I think we all just like sayin¡¯ them aloud. Helps focus intent. Take my [Cookbook] Ability; it needs me to think about the recipe I want. Sometimes I¡¯ll even say the food too.¡±


    I snapped my broad fingers. ¡°Intent! That might do it.¡±


    Bran¡¯s face grew cheery. ¡°Well, then! Go ahead!¡±


    The description said the item needed to be personal and one I knew intimately. The first thing that came to mind was the one item I knew in and out and had kept on my person for years. I could easily see it in my mind¡¯s eye. I even closed my eyes to better imagine it.


    I put my hand out and intoned, ¡°[Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance].¡±


    Something soft and leathery plopped into my open hand and Bran huped. I opened my eyes and smiled widely.


    There on my open palm was a in brown leather wallet. It was wrinkled with age, but shiny and well cared for. To my surprise it seemed to be full to bursting. The silly thing had gotten so massive by the end that my physiotherapist had forbidden me from carrying it in my back pocket anymore.


    I grinned. ¡°Hah! It worked!¡±


    Bran craned his neck to get a better look. ¡°It really made somethin'' out of nothin¡¯! Those kinds of Abilities are always powerful. Easy to abuse. So¡­ what is it? Looks like a leather satchel of some kind? What are those strange things inside?¡±


    I thumbed open the firstpartment and saw to my delight that all the usual credit and debit cards were sitting exactly where they should be. It looked like my subconscious intent considered them <i>part</i> of my wallet. What immediately surprised me was how <i>big</i> it was. I could see how Bran would mistake it for a satchel. It was easilyrger than my fist, and I had <i>broad</i> hands. I knew I was a shortie now, but this really drove it home.


    ¡°Pete? What is it?¡± Bran asked again, more insistently.


    ¡°Oh, sorry! It¡¯s a coin holder, and¡­ business card holder,¡± I finished uncertainly.


    ¡°Those are some of the oddest business cards I¡¯ve seen. What¡¯re they made of?¡±


    From his perspective they would indeed look odd. They had fancy logos and bright colors, and were clearly <i>not </i>made with paper. There was a driver¡¯s license in there somewhere too; the photo had always irked me - my eyes were too close together and my ears were too big.


    Before Bran could ask any more questions, I flipped over the center divider to the second page of cards. That was where I kept all my gift cards with fifty cents left on them and my Costco card and-


    My breath caught in my throat. The pounding in my head grew to the level of tap dancing elephants.


    Bran whistled. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a pretty painting, Pete! I¡¯m impressed! I¡¯ve never seen one so lifelike! Huh, it looks like a pair of human women? Why would ya have - Pete? Pete, you all right?¡±


    I didn¡¯t hear him. I couldn¡¯t hear him, as my world narrowed down to the small slip of paper in the picture window. A photo of Caroline and Sammy smiling in the summer of ¡®14. Caroline was still young - beautiful and full of life, and Sammy had chocte ice-cream coating her face with a look of delirious joy.


    It was the first time I¡¯d seen their faces in over two years. I¡¯d forgotten some of the finer details, like that crease between Caroline¡¯s brow, or the mole on Sammy¡¯s cheek. I reached out and touched the picture, my fingers trembling. I could hear Sammy¡¯s voice calling, ¡°daddy!¡± and Caroline¡¯s soft ¡°Pete.¡±


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    Bran¡¯s voice pulled me back, and I looked up at him. My fingers pulled back unbidden. ¡°Whazzat?¡±


    ¡°Are you alright? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    He looked hazy, and I realized with shock that tears were streaming down my face and soaking my beard. ¡°I *sniff* I¡¯m fine. I just need a moment.¡±


    Bran gave me a concerned look, but stood. ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll leave it to ya.¡±


    He wandered back into the kitchen with a frown on his face and left me to my memories.


    ¡ª


    An hour or soter, I was jostled out of my thoughts by Bran tapping me on the back.


    He coughed, and gave me an apologetic look. ¡°Sorry to interrupt you, Pete, but you have a visitor. He said it was real important.¡±


    I stared nkly up at him, and then my gaze fell on the dapper grey-suited figure beside him. The figure slowly swam into view and I squinted. ¡°Silverpen?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Brewer Roughtuff. It¡¯s me! I hope I haven¡¯t caught you at a bad time, but it really is very urgent.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Oh. OH!¡± I was suddenly wide awake. ¡°Right! Come sit down, sorry, sorry.¡± I brushed my arm across my eyes and swore as my bracers scratched my eyelids.


    Silverpen plopped down beside me, depositing a clipboard on the table as he did so. ¡°It¡¯s quite alright. I can understand that today¡¯s a very emotional day for you. I saw the contest by the way! Congrattions!!¡±


    ¡°Heh. Thanks! You know, as a fellow beer fan, I should tell you that there''s something specialing down the pipeline!¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, do tell?¡± Silverpen leaned forward. Thest time we¡¯d met he¡¯d asked for my autograph as a pro-drinker, and I¡¯d happily obliged. It seemed he was still a fan.


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you too much, but maybe consider being in the Grand Market tomorrow right after midday?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I heard the bards singing about it at Joejam¡¯s. I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    ¡°Sooo, what brings you here?¡± Thest time I¡¯d seen Silverpen I¡¯d sicked him on Ambermine. I¡¯d crafted an borate story about an ¡®acquaintance¡¯ that could use a practice audit, and figured Silverpen¡¯s nose and Abilities would quickly ferret out a rat. It was, of course, a nice little [White Lie]; the bugger absolutely <i>did </i>need an audit, and we <i>were </i>acquaintances. I¡¯d assumed that Ambermine would send Silverpen away, but all I <i>really</i> needed was for the highly professional auditor to get Ambermine in his sights.


    ¡°Well, Pete. I don¡¯t know how to tell you this. I know you wanted my help, but I have terrible news.¡±


    ¡°Do tell?¡± I sipped from a fresh cup of pick-me-up and raised an eyebrow, indicating the mug to Silverpen.


    ¡°No, thank you - not right now. I¡¯m feeling a bit ill. You see, Pete, I think¡­ I think your friend may be involved in some illegal activity.¡± He said it with such seriousness that I suddenly felt a bit guilty about this. Of course, that was what I¡¯d <i>hoped</i> he¡¯d find, but I schooled my face to shock instead. [Friend: Gnomes] helped.


    ¡°Oh noooo!! Not Ambermine! What happened??¡± I took a sip of caudle to hide a smile that was trying to creep onto my lips.


    Silverpen shook his head sadly. ¡°I arrived at MIne Manor earlier this week, and he was most hospitable. He¡¯d been expecting me, and thanked me foring in early to help him with his books. He led me into his study and gave me ess to <i>everything</i>. I admit, I¡¯ve never had a gnomish oligarch be so free with their corporate books. I actually got a Milestone afterwards!¡±


    ¡°Uh?¡± Caudle dribbled down my beard as I considered Silverpen, ck-jawed. Ambermine had done <i>what??</i>


    ¡°Suffice it to say, I was horrified to see many things that didn¡¯t add up, and not a few examples of malfeasance and possible criminal activity. I had toe see you first Peter, but there are some <i>serious</i> allegations I will be required to put forward against Ambermine.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Noooooo. That sounds terrible!¡± Oh YES! That sounded wonderful!


    ¡°ording to Chapter 52, Section 87, Subsection 4, Paragraph 3 of the City of MInnova Ordinances, I am a mandatory reporter byw. I¡¯m very sorry Pete. Some of his crimes may be serious enough to warrant cing him before the capital court.¡± Silverpen looked absolutely crestfallen. I was going to need to make this up to him, but first I needed him out before my mask cracked and I started happy-screaming.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ you¡¯ve given me a lot to think about Silverpen.¡± I stood up, and Silverpen did as well. ¡°I apologise that I won¡¯t be able to see you out - I¡¯m still a bit shaky.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Pete, I understand, and-¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t you worry about Ambermine,¡± I interrupted his further apologies, and sped his shoulder. ¡°Sometimes you think you know a gnome¡­ well, don¡¯t <i>you </i>worry about it. We were only really acquaintances anyways. If he did something that bad? Well, maybe we were never meant to be friends to begin with.¡±


    Silverpen gave me one more pained look, then his gaze grew stern. He gave me a serious nod, then marched out of the pub. Probably to go ruin Ambermine¡¯s life! Ahah!


    Where was Whistlemop when I needed him for a good viinousugh? I gave it a go anyway.


    ¡°MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!¡±


    Bran stuck his head out of the kitchen window and yelled, ¡°Pete, ya weirdo, quit that! Yer scarin¡¯ Penelope!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being evil!¡±


    ¡°Go be evil somewhere else!¡±


    ¡°I <i>OWN </i>this pub, ya billygoat-bearded-bastard! I can be evil if I want to! Now get out here and get what¡¯sing to you!¡±


    Bran stalked out of the kitchen holding his <i>big</i> cleaver. ¡°Oh? Ya think you¡¯re dwarf enough?¡±


    I smiled viciously. ¡°Oh, absolutely! [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]!¡±


    Bran paused when he saw what I held in my hands, then gasped.

 Book 2: Chapter 54: Barista Brew Bundt

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 54: Barista Brew Bundt</h4>


    By the time everyone woke up, Bran and I were busy in the kitchen. The faint scent of baking filled the air and a whiff of smoke poured out of the kitchen alongside the sound of our bickering.


    ¡°Pete, fer thest time! I don¡¯t have that ingredient!¡±


    ¡°Uh, what about this one?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t read it!¡±


    ¡°Right right. Let me just copy it down in my notebook. Maybe¡­ [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]. Uggghhhh, Tiara¡¯s Saggy Teats.¡±


    ¡°No go either?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Add ¡®spice rack¡¯ to the list along with my immersion blender and grill. I think the grill is too big and I don¡¯t know enough about the blender. At least I got the cake pan!¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ what about a <i>single</i> spice?¡±


    ¡°Maaaaybe? I¡¯m still not sold on usin¡¯ it fer that. I¡¯m pretty sure that once the duration is over tha spice won¡¯t taste like spice.¡±


    ¡°Ach, good point.¡±


    ¡°Worth a try though. [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]. Nope. [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]. Hey! It worked!¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°My pepper grinder!! I loved this thing! Aw, there isn¡¯t any pepper inside.¡±


    ¡°We already <i>have</i> pepper. I use tha mortar there.¡±


    ¡°This is soooo much better, and you can hold it over people¡¯s tes and tell them ¡®say when¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Say <i>what</i>??¡±


    Iughed. ¡°You¡¯ll see! We need to make fettine alfredo next!¡±


    Richter was the first to arrive, peering suspiciously into the kitchen and sniffing. His shirt was missing and it looked like a single boot was too. He obviously still had his socks. ¡°Whata ya two doin¡¯ up so soon? And why are ya yellin¡¯ so loud.¡±


    I gave him a disbelieving stare. ¡°Richter, it¡¯s almost lunchtime.¡±


    ¡°What!? Arggghhh!¡± Richter dashed off to get ready while Bran and I chuckled in the kitchen.


    I turned to Bran and gave him a wide smile. ¡°So? What do you think?¡±


    Bran drummed his fingers. ¡°I think that when Richteres back I owe him ten Gold.¡±


    ¡°Ah, was he the one that won the bet? I know Aqua already had to pay up.¡±


    ¡°Aye, he bet on you bein¡¯ a soul from another world. I bet on a dragon soul or sumsuch from somewhere far away with intact memories.¡±


    ¡°Was I really so obvious?¡±


    ¡°To us? Aye. To everyone else? Nah, you were just a weird Easterner.¡±


    I pursed my lips. ¡°I admit I was expecting somethin¡¯ more like Aqua¡¯s reaction. She had lots of questions and wanted ta know absolutely everything.¡±


    Bran shrugged. ¡°I already figured out the main thing. And what I really cared about was that.¡± He pointed at my notebook.


    Of course, the thing I¡¯d pulled out to capture Bran¡¯s attention had been my grandmother¡¯s recipe book. It was the one of the first things I could think of when it came to ¡®physical Matter, small, deep meaning, and know intimately¡¯. We spent the rest of the morning trying some of the recipes in it with erdroot flour and testing the limits of [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance].


    So far I¡¯d pulled my cast iron frying pan (seasoned!), my personal cooking knife, my cutting board, and my favourite cake pan. My deer rifle, my bike, my phone, my first beer, and my first wine hadn¡¯te out. Either they were too big, didn¡¯t have enough meaning, or I just didn¡¯t know enough about them. I was <i>absolutely sure</i> that I knew enough about my first alcohols to summon them, and put their failure down to Tiara being the Goddess of <i>physical </i>Matter. <i>Aaron </i>was the God of Aether, which was liquids and gasses. Physics on Erd weren¡¯t <i>quite</i> the same as back home.


    I still had a massive list of stuff to try, but I suspected the final number of summonable items was going to be low. I was going to use the Ability as much as possible and hope it evolved to give me bigger or less precise stuff. If the Ability continued to be a dud, I¡¯d copy all my writing down and then sacrifice it to Specialisation.


    Yes, I could probably summon <i>literal </i>intimate objects, but I didn¡¯t particrly feel the need to test it.


    Yet.


    I jotted down a few more notes, then nodded. ¡°I probably have a half-dozen cookbooks that I can still pull out. Along with my beer and wine diaries.¡±


    Bran whistled. ¡°Those¡¯ll be very valuable.¡±


    ¡°Aye. Though as my Intelligence increases I have a better mind fer rememberin¡¯ things anyways. I should be able ta recall more recipes than I can get outta cookbooks eventually.¡±


    Richter came pounding back wearing his armour andbing his dreadlocked ck hair. ¡°Mmmmm! Dat smells good!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s beer cake!¡± I proudly announced.


    ¡°Aye, made with Barista Brew to wake you lot up.¡±


    ¡°Why does da cake ¡®ave a hole in it? And dose weird lines?¡± Richter asked, his confusion evident.


    ¡°Because we¡¯re literally batting out of this world! Though this one¡¯s less of a home run, and more of a bundt.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°What?¡± Richter¡¯s face scrunched up.


    Bran gave me a ¡®you see!?¡¯ look.


    I sighed. ¡°Just go wake up Johnsson. Tell him to get his head out of the kiln ande get breakfast.¡±


    ¡ª


    We were soon joined by Kirk, Richter, Emma, Aqua, Zirce, Emerelda, Opal, and Johnsson. Balin and Annie had moved to the Goldstonepound at some point, so there was a chance they were awake but enjoying their solitude.


    Everyone looked <i>rough</i>. Except for Opal, who¡¯d managed to make herself as prim and proper as always. I knew it for the lie it was - she¡¯d been snoring up a storm in one of the booths next to Emerelda while Bran and I cooked.


    I was exining the cake to everyone for the umpteenth time - they couldn¡¯t fit their aching heads around the shape. ¡°Listen, it¡¯s a bundt cake! That¡¯s the name for a circr cake with these weird poofy edges and a hole in the middle. That or <i>bundkuchen</i>.¡±


    ¡°How did ya make it? <i>Why</i> did ya make it?¡± Johnsson asked, giving it another once over.


    I groaned. ¡°Why does it <i>matter!?</i>¡±


    ¡°Will it make us all go crazy?¡± Emma asked. ¡°I still have nightmares about what Penelope did to Whistlemop y¡¯know.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not <i>that</i> bad.¡± Aqua whinged. ¡°You just need to get used to tha Condition!¡±


    Bran buried his knife point first in the cake. ¡°No. It looks like bakin¡¯ it changes it enough to ruin most of the magic. And bakin¡¯ kills the alcohol. It¡¯ll give you a bit of a pick-me-up, but that¡¯s it. Now, eat!¡±


    Bran began doling out slices of the dark brown cake to everyone. It had that delicious scent of sugar and fresh baked goods, along with the bitter scent of beer and coffee. We even had a coffee sauce on the side for anyone that wanted that extra kick.


    The recipe for it came from Grandma¡¯s cookbook - well, my cookbook now. It was originally for a Guinness cake, but it¡¯d tranted well enough to a Barista Brew Bundt. As an unapologetic Irish Newfie, she had a good number of Guinness recipes, and I was looking forward to trying some of them again. The province of Newfounnd had a veryrge Irish poption, and I¡¯d grown up with her stories about the old fisheries. That and sneaking drinks from her hip sk. I strongly suspected that it was her influence that¡¯d turned me into a beer snob.


    It¡¯d taken a few tries to get the recipe just right. Erdroot flour just didn¡¯t quite rise like good old wheat flour, but Bran was used to tranting my recipes at this point. Plus, the carbonation in the beer helped the floof factor. It was still quite a bit denser than I was used to, but it tasted great. I actually found that dwarven beer didn¡¯t taste half bad in sweets like this; the bitter gag got drowned out by the sugar and other vours.


    The modified recipe was as follows:


    <strong>Barista Brew Bundt </strong>


    1 Bottle of Barista Brew


    2 Cups of Erdroot Flour


    3 Large Eggs


    ? Teaspoons Baking Soda


    1 ? Teaspoons Baking Powder


    ? Teaspoons Salt


    1 ? Cups Unsalted Butter


    1 ? Cups Msses


    1 ? Cups Brown Sugar


    2 Teaspoons White Sugar


    Oil your bundt pan. Then oil it again. It probably still needs more oil because those nooks and crannies are impossible to get right.Mix two tablespoons of flour and sugar. Apply a thin coat to the inside of the bundt pan. Add a sweater if it¡¯s still cold.Mix a half-cup of msses with half a bottle of Barista Brew. Simmer on a low heat until it properly mixes. Drink the rest of the bottle. Cheers! Mix the butter and brown sugar. Cream with a paddle and at least 20 Dexterity until ingredients are fluffy. Maybe you shouldn¡¯t have drunk the beer...Beat the eggs in one at a time. Insult their mothers while doing so. Mix the flour mixture with the beer and msses, alternate small amounts to prevent curdling. If it still curdles, wear a mask over your ugly mug. Stir in the brown sugar.Pour the batter into the pan while muttering ¡®hey batter batter batter¡¯.Preheat the oven to 350 F and bake for 45-50 minutes. Note: Erdroot flour requires an extra 10-15 minutes, so make it a round hour. Cool for 15 minutes then try to remove it from the bundt pan.Swear a lot and continue trying to remove it from the pan. Use all Abilities at your disposal if necessary.Serve with powdered sugar or a ze of your choice.


    Bran called my recipe an insult to baking. I thoroughly disagreed.


    Johnsson was the first to eat the cake, as per usual, and he sighed with pleasure. ¡°It¡¯s delicious! It reminds me of yer usual sugar cake Bran, but it¡¯s got a <i>kick</i> to it! It¡¯s a lot fluffier too!¡±


    Then he spat the cake across the table. He managed to avoid the main cake by bare centimeters, but a good amount got in Aqua¡¯s beard. She screamed and ran to the kitchen to wash it out.


    Johnsson stuttered, ¡°I¡­ I just got a Blessin¡¯!! Fer ¡®Bravery in trying new things!¡¯¡±


    I nced at his pink frosted tip beard and faux-leather armour. ¡°Oh? I can¡¯t imagine why¡­¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Opal frowned, but took the time to enjoy a bite of her own cake before continuing. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a Blessing worded <i>quite</i> like that. There are a lot of odd Blessings going around these days. Congrattions are in order, though!¡±


    ¡°Aye!¡±


    ¡°Huzzah!¡±


    ¡°Fer Crack and Johnsson!¡±


    Everyone choked at thest cheer and Zirce turned red.


    ¡°Mebbe we won¡¯t shout that one in public.¡± Emerelda said sagely. We all quickly agreed.


    ¡°Which God was it from?¡± Aqua asked as she walked back in, drying her beard. ¡°And give me one good reason not to thump you.¡±


    ¡°From Barck!¡± Johnsson smiled. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d get it from him! I always figured I¡¯d get my first from Yearn. Da will be so happy!¡±


    ¡°You actually <i>want</i> a Blessing from Yearn?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aye. With Barck I can aim to be a [Socialite]!¡± Johnssonughed, a high tenor.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure yer Pa will be <i>overjoyed</i>.¡± Richter muttered sotto voce as Aqua began thumping Johnsson.


    I¡¯d never pegged Johnsson as a particrly driven dwarf. He was much moreissez faire than most, preferring to spend time chatting or luxuriating at the beardy parlour. There was a good chance that without his proximity to me he¡¯d never have gotten a Blessing at all.


    Well, thanks for something, Barck.


    I switched to watching Bran watching Opal devour her slice of cake. She was going at it with gusto, her eyes closed with pleasure as she ate. His gaze turned pensive, and he bit his lip. I could actually <i>see</i> hime to a decision. I could only hope that my nning hadn¡¯t been in vain and he¡¯de down on my side. Best to give him a proper venue to make the announcement one way or another.


    I stood up and called for attention, ¡°Looks like <i>another </i>Blessin¡¯ party at the Thirsty Goat! We¡¯re too busy with tomorrow¡¯sunch of Liquid Gold and Barista Brew ta do it tonight. So Bran and I will n somethin¡¯ special fer the day after! Bring yer friends from the Beardy Parlour Johnsson!¡±


    I widened my eyes at Bran and he gave an acknowledging shrug.


    Alright. The stage was set, now all I could do was wait and see. While alsounching the two biggest new brews in the history of Crack. Phew.

 Book 2: Chapter 55: Release Day Remix

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 55: Release Day Remix</h4>


    You slowly be numb to ¡®Big Days¡¯. They still have meaning and impact, they justck the same *oomph* they did before. On Earth most of my ¡®Big Days¡¯ were Sammy¡¯s hockey games and the asional local meat & brew-festivals. We just weren¡¯t big into thepetition scene, preferring to keep things simple and lucrative. Our VV Vineyard made up for in heart what itcked in blue ribbons.


    Things were, of course,pletely different here. I had contests to win, and people to convince, and a beer empire to topple. It was go big or go home.


    So Big Days were back in, and today was going to be the Biggest TM before we headed to Kinshasa.


    It started easily enough, with covert maneuvering of wagons to predetermined locations. They were ced to create an impromptu concert venue right in the middle of the Grand Market. Copperpot had arranged things with the local businessfolk, and they¡¯d happily obliged. Only a single purveyor of cabbages had made a fuss, which abruptly ended when Annie called the guard on his sub-standard produce. Sorry, not sorry Gimbletack.


    Arge wagon set up in the center of the cleared space was for Berry¡¯s big performance. It was festooned in pink and had several enchantments on it for protection and light. Arge stage extended out from its side, just tall enough to keep the fans off.


    We had a <i>lot</i> of space, and only half of it was dedicated to Berry¡¯s concert. The other half was dedicated to an open-seating beer garden. Attendees would be met with a steady supply of Thirsty Goat True Brew, New Brew, and Ass-ster Ale served by loaned apprentices from the Brewer¡¯s Guild Main Store. Joejam had also set up a coffee machine and was serving coffee and tea and snacks.


    A pair of enormous gilded mystery barrels the size of vans sat in the garden, one with a gold ribbon, and the other a ck. They were of course filled with Liquid Gold and Barista Brew. We were going to advertise them as two sides of a coin; Gold and ck, Light and Dark, Sun and Moon. It was nice thematically, but also made a lot of sense. Liquid Gold was the culmination of what it meant to be a dwarf, and Barista Brew was the culmination of what it meant to be a gnome living in a dwarf world.


    As the day crept on, the crowd flowed in. By noon we had to close the gates. There must have been over ten thousand people in attendance.


    At least half of the attendees had pink armour or pink hair, and the other half looked shell-shocked. Understandable under the circumstances. I spotted a contingent of greybeards headed by Master Cimon that looked ready to start swinging axes. Thankfully Master Fault talked them down before I had to have Balin go fight a bunch of old people.


    By andrge, the gnomes were all curious about a new brew to rival coffee. I¡¯d hired my [Bards] to y up the big release in coffee shops for the past few weeks, and Copperpot had been spreading the word at their tea shops.


    On the dwarf side of things, Aqua and the rest of the crew had spread the word through the crowd while Annie and I were runningps in the Arena. And of course there was my victory speech in the Arena.


    As the crowd continued to grow, my job was to be the face of management. It honestly felt more like the <i>mace </i>of management, as I was forced to swing te Goldstone¡¯s hammer more than a few times before people got the picture. I¡¯d taken to carrying it around everywhere, and was thankful I had it today. I directed people, soothed angry merchants, cajoled angry traditionalists, fought off rabid fans, and was generally everywhere at once doing everything.


    I felt like I was dying. Some people did this all the time for <i>fun</i>!? And they called ME crazy!


    Speaking of crazy, the crowd had begun to chant Berry¡¯s name. Berry¡¯s Manager, Amethyst, walked over and gave me ast minute rundown of everything before sauntering backstage. I envied her cool calm. I was still hoping this wouldn¡¯t turn into a riot, <i>especially </i>after getting several thousand high-energy dwarves blitzed on Barista Brew¡­


    There was probably going to be a riot. Maybe I could me Copperpot?


    Then, with an explosion of smoke and colour the concert began.


    Berry appeared on stage in something that looked very simr to a standard gnomish Barista¡¯s garb - a ck smock with a white apron. Except her version was white and pink with garish golden stripes. She strutted out with bravado, her smile blinding.


    ¡°Are you all ready to make some noise!¡± She screamed with the use of [Project Voice].


    ¡°AYYYE!¡± The crowd roared back.


    ¡°Then I¡¯d like to wee you to the first Thirsty Goat Brewery and Pot Public Beer Bash!¡±


    There was another cheer.


    And then Berryunched into her first song, which was her hit single <i>Miner Boy</i>; a name that never would have made it past the nning stage on Earth. Thankfully the dwarven trantion didn¡¯t have the same minor/miner hup.


    The crowd moved to the music, and I spotted a few gnomes crowd surfing. Dwarves had <i>incredible</i> mosh pits, especially since blunt weapons were often involved. Berry had originally banned weaponry, but I¡¯d rmended she sell branded padded clubs instead. I spotted Master Stusk right in the thick of things, walloping a pair of gnomes with his bright pink hammer. Wink wink nudge nudge.


    Ahhh. Youth.


    Berry was now big enough that she had backup dancers, in this case a pair of dwarves in full mining gear with shining gold and stark ck pickaxes. I smiled at the attention to detail; Berry really knew how to keep to a theme!


    Then with a closing line decrying the ¡®Mine you used to know¡¯, the stage was surrounded in pitch darkness. There were confused murmurs, and excited shouts, and then a single part of the stage lit back up.


    Berry stood behind a stylized coffee bar. An espresso machine whirred and bubbled and smoked, while she pretended to serve brightly dressed customers. A bass guitar strummed in the background to a familiar beat. I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on the tune¡­ Berry had said it would be a ¡®surprise¡¯.


    Then sheunched into the lyrics, and I got two surprises at once.


    The first was that the song was a cover of Spice Girl¡¯s <i>Wannabe </i>titled <i>Brewery</i>. Except she¡¯d reced the word ¡®lover¡¯ with ¡®brewer¡¯ and inserted Barista Brew into several ces. There was a stir in the crowd and angry yelling from Cimon¡¯s group before Stusk began hitting them with his hammer. While gnomish [Baristas] technically <i>brewed</i>, just like [Alchemists], [Brewer] was still very much a protected term.


    I gave a vicious smile. We were going to pull those barriers down in the most traditional form possible, with <i>music</i>!


    My second surprise came when the bar spun away and the entire stage lit up, revealing Berry and her backup dancers. This time it was two dwarfesses and two gnomesses in simr barista outfits, and one of them was <i>AQUA!</i> I knew she¡¯d been hanging out and making music with Berry, but this waspletely unexpected! She beamed at the crowd, her face slightly pink from excitement and exertion. Her blue beard had been done up in ringlets, and they swayed as she danced.


    As I stood there agape, Aqua danced forward and belted out some of Posh Spice¡¯s lines, followed by the other three. They were doing a <i>girl band</i>!?


    The crowd approved, and the volume increased another tick. All I could do was shake my head. What was next?? Rap? <i>KPop</i>?? Where would it end!?


    The song flowed very well, with each of the singers/dancers doing a separate set of lines. Berry had to have an Ability to help her remember all these songs, or a <i>way </i>higher Intelligence than me. Possibly both. As it reached the halfway point the dancers all stripped off their smocks, revealing journeyman [Brewer] grey robes beneath them.


    It was terrible, it was awful, it was <i>amazing</i>. And then it was over. The stage went dark again, and when the light flickered back on, Berry was sitting at something that looked simr to a piano. It was like how dwarven bagpipes <i>resembled </i>bagpipes, but with fire and spikes. The instrument <i>resembled a piano</i>, but made of solid gold. It also had <i>way </i>too many keys and knobs, like an organ.


    <i>Exactly</i> like an organ I realized as sound burst from it. There weren¡¯t any pipes, so it had to be using enchantments to get that quality of sound and volume. Berry looked rapt as she began to sing.


    I didn¡¯t recognize the song this time. She called it <i>Golden Hour</i>, and it was a beautiful piano piece.


    The dancers this time were arge group of gnomes and dwarves wearing sparkling golden outfits. The song was quite <i>literally</i> a love song about Gold and Liquid Gold. It was emotional and heartfelt and <i>beautiful</i>. Cimon and his crew were bawling by the end of it. It looked like Berry had earned herself some new fans!


    ¡°Did you all enjoy that?¡± She asked as she stood up. By the sound, the audience did indeed approve. ¡°Well, then, you¡¯ll be happy to know that the drinks I just sang about will be avable <i>TODAY</i> for the first time <i>EVER</i>!! <i>WHO WANTS TO DRINK BARISTA BREW AND LIQUID GOLD WITH ME</i>!!¡±


    The Grand Market shook, but all I could hear was the sweet sweet sound of gold coins clinking together. It was <i>change</i> in every sense of the word! Hah!


    Then Berry looked directly across at the beer garden and met my eyes. She gave a nasty smile and said sweetly, ¡°I¡¯ll pass things over to the Thirsty Goat and their new partners, Pot Public Corporation! Please head to the beer garden and try the all new Barista Brew, and the Liquid Gold that won the recent Decamillennial Brewing Contest!


    The ground vibrated again, this time at the same tempo as my beating heart. The edges of the crowd bent, then broke as an avnche descended on the beer garden.


    We - we may have overdone it. Did we have enough seats!?


    ¡ª


    We didn¡¯t have enough seats.


    There was a kerfuffle as we tried to handle the crowd, but Balin handled it with Copperpot¡¯s security and his team, Brightstar. It only got worse when we cracked the enormous barrels of Barista Brew and Liquid Gold.


    Tragically, the Liquid Gold had the expected effect on a small percentage of Dwarves, and they started fighting to get more. Brightstar handled it.


    Dwarves were mostly drinking Liquid Gold and gnomes mostly kept to Barista Brew, but a few dwarves <i>did</i> try the wheat-free Barista Brew and vice versa. I could tell, because they were <i>literally </i>bouncing off the walls. I watched a [Berzerker] run screaming through the crowd andunch himself onto the roof of a wagon before streaking naked over the roofs of the city. Another dwarven mage under the influence of [Energized] had puzzled out the secret of Berry¡¯s song magic, and was gleefully vomiting half-formed magic with off tune acape.


    Everywhere I looked gnomes and dwarves were sharing in song, beer, and a jolly good time. Cimon and his crew were screaming like fangirls over the Liquid Gold, and Stusk had joined them with a pair of Berry¡¯s dancers.


    As I sighed with vicarious pleasure, I was suddenly flooded with quests. I rapidfire epted them as theypleted. Deja vu!


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 1/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 2,500 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 2500/2500</i>


    <i>Rewards: </i>[Check Quality]


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Gnomish Influencer Part 1/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>Keep up the great work!</i>


    <i>Gained [Check Quality]!</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 2/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 5000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 5000/5000</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Intelligence, +0.2 Dexterity</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    *Bing!*


    <i></i><strong><i>Quest Complete: Gnomish Influencer Part 2/10!</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <strong><i></i></strong><i>Keep up the great work!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.2 Intelligence, new Intelligence is 15.2!</i><i></i>


    <i> Gained 0.2 Dexterity, new Dexterity is 13.2!</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong><i>New Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 3/10!</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <strong><i></i></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 10,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 10,000/10,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Intelligence, +0.2 Dexterity</i>


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i> Yes / No</i>


    *Bing!*


    <i></i><strong><i>Quest Complete: Gnomish Influencer Part 3/10!</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <strong><i></i></strong><i>Keep up the great work!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.4 Intelligence, new Intelligence is 15.4!</i><i></i>


    <i> Gained 0.4 Dexterity, new Dexterity is 13.4!</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 4/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 25,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 25,000/25,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.4 Intelligence, +0.4 Dexterity</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    *Bing!*


    <i></i><strong><i>Quest Complete: Gnomish Influencer Part 4/10!</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <strong><i></i></strong><i>Keep up the great work!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.4 Intelligence, new Intelligence is 15.8!</i><i></i>


    <i> Gained 0.4 Dexterity, new Dexterity is 13.8!</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 5/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 50,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 32,126/50,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.6 Intelligence, +0.6 Dexterity</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I <i>felt </i>my stats swell, and reveled in the feeling of growing stronger. I must have been influencing a lot of gnomes beyond just Beatbox then. There was no way there were that many gnomes at this party.


    Today was <i>truly</i> a wonderful day! And right on cue, a petnt voice called out from behind me, bringing me crashing right back to reality.


    ¡°You there. You are Brewer Peter Roughtuff are you not? You will speak with me.¡±


    I turned around and gave my widest business-like smile.


    ¡°Ahh, Lord ckbeard, what a <i>pleasure.</i>¡± NOT.

 Book 2: Chapter 56: Interlude: Escaping Minnova

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 56: Interlude: Escaping Minnova</h4>


    Louis ckbeard sighed as the carriage hit another bump in the road. His n paid millions of gold in taxes every year. They did <i>their </i>part. The least the Kingdom could do was ensure smooth roads free from monsters and bandit attacks. One of his fellow nobles had actually been robbed en route to Minnova and left naked on the side of the road. Louis had hired extra guards from the adventurers outside Greentree to be sure of his safety.


    His eyes wandered out to the passingndscape. While he much preferred the bustling caves and canyons of Kinshasa, the openndscape of Minnova had its own charm.


    And speaking of charm¡­ Louis closed his eyes and imagined that moment in the Arena. The <i>taste</i> of that Liquid Gold. The feel of it on his tongue and then slipping smoothly down his throat. The refreshing ssh of alcohol. Not too thick, not too thin. All the best parts of True Brew and Light Brew in a single drink that would please even the <i>Gods.</i>


    It had been <i>perfect</i>. Damn that Drum for ruining the rest of it.


    His mind wandered on to the brewers of that nectar. The Thirsty Goat was ostensibly owned by the Goldstones. However, his hired gnomish [Detective] had determined that the real force behind the Thirsty Goat¡¯s new brews was Peter Roughtuff. The odd dwarf had arrived in Minnova a short while ago, and immediately picked up an indenture. After barely any time in the mines, he emerged apletely different person. He had swept through the food and drink industry like a monster stampede, and was currently partnered with two otherpanies in addition to the Goldstones: Whistlemop Fineries and Pot Corporation.


    Speaking of Pot Corporation¡­ he turned a baleful eye on the sniveling rat on the seat across from them. Their midnight escape had been a near thing, with shing knives and flitting shadows. ¡°By all the Gods. Do away with your pathetic sniveling you moustached mewling child.¡±


    Ambermine of the West Crackian Mines turned a baleful eye in his direction. ¡°I just lost <i>everything </i>you - ¡± The ck garbed gnome steeled himself and continued, ¡°If you¡¯d sent your [ountant] earlier, I wouldn¡¯t be in this mess!¡±


    ¡°Bah, I told you that our move would ur <i>after</i> the tournament! There were too many eyes upon me!¡±


    ¡°I thought he was yours!! Why would there be an <i>official </i>auditor so <i>soon</i> after ourst audit!!!¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± Louis snapped. ¡°And why would you let some random gnome look at your books!?¡±


    ¡°I was desperate! And he was so <i>helpful</i>!!¡± Ambermine¡¯s voice turned whiny. Louis <i>hated</i> whiny. ¡°If you just get me some more gold, I can -¡±


    Louis chopped the air with his hand. ¡°You can <i>nothing</i>! You will not be able to step foot in Minnova again for at least a decade! You are most fortunate I intervened. If Lord Bronzeson had not mentioned the arrest order in passing, you would be heading to Kinshasa in a prison cart instead of my carriage!¡±


    ¡°But - !¡±


    ¡°Enough! I tire of this nonsense, and you have lost your utility with the copse of yourpany. At least you have enough personal skill to still be of use to us.¡±


    Louis turned away, his mind returning to yesterday¡¯s incredible unch¡¯ party. Now <i>that</i> had been worthy of even Kinshasa. He had taken the opportunity to ask Brewer Roughtuff to be his personal brewer, but the lout had turned him down. Well, these artisan types were always so picky and focused. It was what made them effective at their work, so he was willing to be gracious and not have the peasant punished for his impudence.


    At least Brewer Roughtuff had epted his business card with the tracking magic. He would need to have their spies keep an eye on the enterprising youngling. He was certain his fellows would be interested in someone who pushed boundaries, but still knew what was important. Liquid Gold showed how much keeping everything the same for its own sake could hinder dwarvenkind. Louis was even willing to forgive the awful ass sting whatever. However, when the old guard were swept away and <i>he </i>was in charge, he would see <i>that </i>kind of sacrilege ouwed. And the Gods would be so pleased with his hard work that he would get a Title.


    Louis smiled. He¡¯d also considered pushing his weight around to get his hands on Raspberrysyrup. What a delectable morsel. It was unfortunate that he was stillying low after that incident with the duke¡¯s granddaughter, or he would have done it. It was surprising, as he usually wasn¡¯t taken with gnomesses, with their pale hairless faces and thin arms. He still didn¡¯t understand how Lord Harmsson could stand those elven wenches he kept.


    There was a thump and rattle outside and the carriage came to a halt. Louis frowned and banged on the wall.


    ¡°You, driver! Why have we stopped moving?¡±


    Silence met his demand, and he felt a pang of trepidation. He strained his ears to hear outside. It was garbled, but a youth spent listening in on gossip through his father¡¯s study door had left him with an excellent Perception.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Ambermine asked.


    ¡°Shut up, fool. We are being robbed, or worse. You are apparently some great [Assassin], so get ready to protect me with your life.¡± ckbeard frowned as he put his ear to the padded door of the carriage. He.. did not like the direction the conversation outside was going. His hired adventurers seemed to be in cahoots with whomever had waid them.


    With a trembling hand, Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out a long-distancemstone. They were expensive, but useful in times like this. He activated the rune on the bottom, and the stone red to life.


    A momentter, a voice emerged. It was deep and strong, cultured and well-mannered, a voice honed by years of public speaking and used to ruling others. ¡°Lord ckbeard! How are you enjoying your time in quaint Minnova? Were the beers anything to match Kinshasa?¡±


    Louis could hear the sound of footsteps approaching his carriage, andunched right into things. ¡°My carriage is under attack by bandits about two hours west of Minnova. Can you send help?¡±


    There was a pause, then, ¡°I will do what I can. Your guards?¡±


    ¡°Suborned.¡±


    ¡°Yearns Yams. I will have our [Communicator] contact Minnova, but help will not arrive for a while, Louis.¡±


    Louis steeled himself. ¡°I know. If I do not return, I want you to tell everyone that Ipleted my tasks. Lord Bronzeson is on board, as well as his brother. The Grand Lord ignored my subtle hints and I did not wish to push further. The Mines were worthless, but I was able to convince two other gnomishpanies toe on board. They will support us at the march, and spread the word amongst their kind.¡±


    There was a moment of silence on the other end, and then the voice came again, ¡°Thank you for your hard work, Lord ckbeard. My friend, your brothers will remember that you were stout of heart and did your duty. Long live the revolution.¡±


    Louis¡¯s heart clenched at those words. ¡°Thank you Lord Harmsson. Long live the revolution.¡±


    At that moment, the door to the carriage banged open, revealing two dwarves. Ambermine appeared out of nowhere beside the doorway and struck at the bandit. The hairy, scarred, scruffy dwarf raised his arms to guard his face. The dagger struck true, burying itself into his upraised hand. Ambermine pushed the attack, twisting the dagger and spinning around to give a swift kick to the dwarf¡¯s neck. He had a clear advantage in Agility, and Louis had sudden hope that -


    The second bandit spoke. ¡°Ach, that¡¯s enough o¡¯ that! [OVERPOWERIN¡¯ SHOUT]!¡±


    The evolved [Project Voice] reverberated within the small carriage, knocking Ambermine back. Louis nearly cked out, his ears ringing. He felt a trickle of blood from his left ear and groaned.


    The ck bearded dwarf entered the carriage. He pulled the dagger from his wrist and tossed it outside. His torn sleeve revealed an unharmed metallic silver arm. Ambermine stumbled to his feet and used a [Charge] Ability, but was caught up by an [Advanced Riposte]. The silver arm <i>sshed </i>as it hit Ambermine, and wrapped around his throat. Ambermine was lifted, struggling and wheezing into the air by his neck.


    With a nce at the silver arm, Louis felt a pang of fear. He knew who this was¡­


    Drumughed. ¡°Ha! Copperpot¡¯sckey was right! The beardless bastard <i>is </i>in here! And if it isn¡¯t Lord ckbeard too, what a surprise! Is it me Blessin¡¯ day? Thankee Barck fer tha treat!¡±


    Louis felt his fear turn into anger and his face flushed. ¡°Drum! You will pay for your disrespect to a noble! The entire Highwatch is out searching for you!¡±


    Drum rolled his eyes. ¡°Ach, half tha Highwatch are me brothers in arms. I¡¯ve kept ¡®em drunk an¡¯ happy fer centuries. They ain¡¯t gonna turn me in fer the likes of you!¡±


    The second dwarf stepped forward. He was a dwarf¡¯s dwarf. Burly, ruddy nosed, and with arge curly red beard. An easterner by his ent. He wore the traditional garb of a warpiper, and carried arge spiked mace. He thumped it against his palm threateningly.


    ¡°Why¡­ why are you doing this!?¡± ckbeard stammered, cringing back. If it¡¯s gold you want, I can get you plenty. I can ask Minnova to call off the Highwatch!¡±


    ¡°Shaddup. We weren¡¯t here for you, ya pompous windbag,¡± redbeard said. ¡°I¡¯m here ta gut a gnome. Yer just a happy ident. Should''ve known a <i>ckbeard </i>would be involved in all this.¡±


    As the only gnome present, Ambermine¡¯s eyes grew wide.


    ¡°Is this him, Sam?¡± Drum asked, pointing at the struggling Ambermine with his free hand.


    ¡°Matches tha¡¯ description.¡± Sam growled.


    ¡°Please! Whatever it is, I didn¡¯t do it!¡± Ambermine began to struggle. ¡°I¡¯m an innocent gnome!¡±


    ¡°Oh? Does the name Peter Roughtuff ring any bells?¡±


    Ambermine began to struggle harder. Louis¡¯s jaw dropped, what did Brewer Roughtuff have to do with this??


    Drum, on the other hand, began to chuckle. ¡°Roughtuff! Cannae say I was surprised!!¡±


    ¡°Samson is a perfectly good name fer tha son¡¯ o¡¯ Sam! I was proud ta give it to ¡®im!¡± Sam snapped.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t stop ya from leaving him behind, did it? I¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t throw it away sooner!¡±


    Sam shot back,tled. ¡°I came fer him when Grim called, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Some support! Does he remember you yet? Or is he just better off fergettin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Bah! I¡¯m not even sure¡­ well, never you mind about ¡®Pete¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Keepin¡¯ secrets from yer mates are ya!?¡±


    ¡°Ehhh? Ya got somethin¡¯ to say about that, <i>DRUMSON DRUM?</i>¡±


    ¡°Oy! You keep that Godsawful name outta yer mouth!¡±


    Louis began to edge for the carriage door as the two maniacs bickered. If he was lucky they would sumb to the Red Rage and he would have time to -


    A hand yanked him back into the carriage and he spilled onto the floor. His head hit the wood paneling and he suffered a fresh spike of pain.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t forgotten you, ckbeard.¡± Drum¡¯s voice was silky smooth and oozed venom. ¡°I¡¯ve been lookin¡¯ forward to havin¡¯ one o¡¯ you lot in my hands fer a long time; I have unfinished business with the nobles of Kinshasa. We just need ta let Sam here have a chat with Ambermine. Ya see, your little [Assassin] tried ta kill his <i>son</i>, and we can¡¯t let that pass, now can we?¡±


    Louis couldn¡¯t even spare a nce for the damned idiot gnome. This was a <i>BLOOD FEUD; </i>he should have let the fool rot in prison. He closed his eyes and waited for the screaming to begin.


    Which was when a melodious voice came from the seat beside him, where amstoney forgotten.


    ¡°Good evening gentle-dwarves. My name is Thad Harmsson. I think, perhaps, you and I should talk.¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 57: Curtain Call

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 57: Curtain Call</h4>


    ¡°So, trackin¡¯ magic, eh?¡± I frowned at the stupidly gaudy business card.


    Richter pointed at some of the faintly glowing runes. ¡°Aye. It¡¯s a standard type.¡±


    ¡°See!? A right bastard!¡± Johnssonined.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Ugh. He was insufferable to talk to, too. I¡¯m d I had ya check. Thanks Richter!¡±


    Richter was downright <i>smug</i>. ¡°Just happy ta use my new Blessing for da brewery.¡±


    ckbeard had cornered me at theunch party and waxed poetic about Kinshasa and bing one of his ¡®minions¡¯ for <i>hours</i>. He¡¯d tried to bribe me with gold, girls, power, and everything in between. I¡¯d stumped him by asking for hops. He¡¯d given a little jump, just in case that was what I was asking for, which was adorable in its own way. Too bad he was such an egotistical frizzface. At least he¡¯d taken no for an answer, though he¡¯d extracted a promise out of me toe visit when we made it to the capital.


    ¡°What are you going to do with it?¡± Aqua asked, pointing at the erstwhile business card.


    I *hrm*¡¯ed. ¡°Cou options. Can ya remove it, Richter?¡±


    ¡°Aye, easy. Easier dan makin¡¯ it anyway.¡±


    ¡°I can think of a few ways ta make use of it given that <i>I</i> know it has tracking, but <i>he</i> doesn¡¯t know I know. He strikes me as the special kind of moron that overestimates himself and underestimates everyone else,¡± I continued.


    ¡°Go on¡­¡± Aqua hedged.


    ¡°I could put it on the bottom of a cart headed out East and make him think I¡¯m somewhere else. I could keep it on me just long enough for him to get used to knowing where I am, then give it to someone else at an opportune moment. I could feed it to a monster, ask a [Discer] to teleport it somewhere far away, try to reverse it so it tracks <i>him</i>, give it to a gnomish ninja and ask them to follow exactly ten paces behind him at all times¡­¡±


    All the dwarves gathered gave me wary looks. Annie just shook her head.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ pretty tricksy Pete.¡± Johnsson hedged.


    ¡°Almost elvish.¡± Kirk used. ¡°And I¡¯ve actually <i>met</i> elves.¡±


    ¡°What can I say? I¡¯m a <i>card </i>carrying maniac!¡± I grinned.


    There was a concentrated moan, and we returned to the serious business of preparations. Georgie moved crates of bottles and various pieces of brewing equipment. Johnsson, Markus, and Moonyboured with cleaning out the tanks. Annie carefully drew schematics of our current brewing setup, while ordering Aqua around. And Kirk, of course, cleaned the rafters for possibly thest time with Zirce and Emma.


    We bickered, weughed, we cried. There was a lot of crying.


    This past week we made some hard decisions on who was staying, and who was leaving. Simply put, we didn¡¯t have enough people to dwarf both the brewery here, <i>and</i> the new brewery in Kinshasa.


    Markus and Moony were the first to volunteer to stay behind. They were getting on in years and didn¡¯t want to deal with uprooting. Zirce and Emma were next. Both of them had too many friends and rtions here in Minnova, and their old jobs were happy to take them back.


    John and Jeremiah agreed toe out of retirement to keep things running. They did, of course, require that Georgie stay behind to protect their aching backs.


    Johnsson was <i>desperate</i> toe, as was Aqua, though Richter was still undecided. He still had thoughts of joining the University here. We told him that he had until the day before departure to decide.


    Annie and Balin and I were no-brainers, as was Kirk. Having a porter to <i>port</i> while we traveled the weeks-long journey to Kinshasa would be invaluable.


    Lemontwist agreed to stay and run the kitchen, and Bran was going to give his ¡®will he stay or will he go¡¯ tonight.


    And then it was time for ourst party in Minnova. Abination Blessing Party for Johnsson and going away bash. Catered by¡­. Joejam.


    Yes, not Bran. Bran was one of the guests of honour, so of <i>course</i> he couldn¡¯t cook for his own party!


    ¡ª


    We all lined up in the foyer to greet the attendees. I felt a pang of nostalgia as I looked around the ce, remembering how intimidating it had beening in here for the first time. It had changed a lot, with whistlemugs and beer bottles lining the walls, plus the addition of a small painting of Balin and I.


    The first to arrive were, of course, the pro-drinkers. Rumbob and Beatbox trundled in with a *ho ho ho* and a *hee hee hee* and immediately set to preparing a game of axescggen. The gigantic southerner Chuck was set upon by Emma and Zirce, while Emerelda set upon <i>me</i>. Tania the Tank lugged an enormous gift through the door right behind them, and said it was for Balin.


    An agog Silverpen followed after with ady-friend on his elbow.


    The next to arrive were Bran, Opal, and surprise of all surprises, <i>Grim</i> and Speaker John!


    I ran up and dodged Grim¡¯s fist bump to deliver a tackling hug. ¡°Grim! You old mine manager you! What are you doin¡¯ here!¡±


    ¡°Urf! I see you ¡®aven¡¯t changed, Pete.¡± Grim growled, holding up a small cask. ¡°Here. I brought you a radler, ya lunatic.¡±


    ¡°Aw, you shouldn¡¯t have!¡±


    ¡°Yer damn <i>right </i>I shouldn¡¯t ¡®ave!!¡±


    ¡°I invited my parents, but they weren¡¯t interested.¡± Opal sighed. ¡°They wanted to meet with more of the Kinshasa nobles before they all leave.¡±


    ¡°Well, we don¡¯t need ¡®em! Come in,e in! Make yourselvesfortable, and Grim, you <i>have</i> to try the Liquid Gold! Speaker John, it¡¯s good to see you again!¡±


    Grim turned slightly pink. ¡°I already did. Had a barrel shipped out to tha mine first thing. It started another damn brawl. Yer causin¡¯ me headaches when you ain¡¯t even around!¡±


    ¡°Have fun! Please remember not to give Penelope any beer or snacks though. We¡¯re trying to keep her weight down, and you <i>don¡¯t</i> want her getting any barista brew.¡±


    They wandered in, Speaker John nodding at me as he passed, and Grim was quickly roped into ying axescggen while Bran and Opal chatted up Rumbob the [Tavernic Matchmaker]. Bran kept moving to help with the food, and Opal kept yanking him back with an iron grip on his arm. Good luck, Bran!


    The trickle quickly turned into a flood, and there were soon a myriad of dwarves I didn¡¯t even recognize. Copperpot andpany, a disguised Raspberrysyrup and Amethyst, friends of Johnsson and Aqua from the beardy parlour, Richter¡¯s acquaintances from the library - including a blushing Pazmin Gemsdotter. Just about everybody I knew from my time in Minnova was here.


    And it was a <i>lot</i>! I¡¯d been a busy dwarf!


    Thest face I recognized was Knicknack, our neighbour with the general store. He and his daughter Spruceleaf came bearing snacks and Balin and Jeremiah''s favourite pickled herring.


    ¡°Hullo Knicknack, Spruceleaf! d you could make it!¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss it for the world!¡± Knickknack grouched. ¡°I¡¯ll finally be rid of you crazy lot. Just in time for my retirement too! I still haven¡¯t forgotten how you blew up my sho!¡±


    I gave his daughter a set of raised eyebrows, and she sighed. ¡°We <i>will</i> miss you. All of your recent parties were really good for business,¡± she confided.


    ¡°Well, far be it from me to spurn your well wishes.¡± I said, turning a beaming smile on Knickknack. ¡°I actually have a present for you too!¡±


    I passed over a folded page that I¡¯d been holding onto for just this asion.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Knicknack regarded it suspiciously and didn¡¯t take it. ¡°It¡¯s not a business partnership is it? You¡¯ve been finagling far too many gnomes into those recently.¡±


    I choked. ¡°No, it¡¯s a present, with no strings attached.¡±


    He opened it and read. ¡°Beer nuts?¡±


    ¡°Aye. They don¡¯t have beer in them, but they¡¯re great <i>with </i>beer!¡±


    Spruceleaf read over her father¡¯s shoulder. ¡°This looks easy enough, but why?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯ll be the best thing since Whistlemugs with any heavy drinker.¡± I grinned. ¡°I¡¯m leaving it for you, but I hope it¡¯ll also bring business to us.¡±


    Beer nuts were simple enough to make, especially now that I had all my cookbooks.


    <strong>Pete¡¯s Frankly Delicious Beer Nuts </strong>


    <strong>Ingredients:</strong>


    2 Cups of Peanuts or Other Nuts


    Pinch of Salt


    1 Teaspoon Sugar


    1 Cup of Water


    1 Teaspoon Frank¡¯s Red Hot Sauce


    <strong>Steps:</strong>


    Boil the sugar, peanuts, water, salt, and hot sauce until the liquid is fully absorbed.Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.Spread the coated peanuts on a pan. Bake for 20 minutes.


    Of course, I had told them to use spicy cayenne spice instead of Frank¡¯s.


    Spruceleaf led her father away as he read the instructions again, giving me a wink and a smile as she did so.


    Then it was back to greeting people. When the flow of neers died to a trickle, I headed into the pub to mingle, leaving Annie and Richter to run the weing party. There was so much to do, so many to see, and so little time to do it all! We had Pong, Axescggen, Liquid Gold, Barista Brew, Ass-ster, good food, and the asional tossed dwarf; everything needed for an amazing time. Things were <i>jumping!</i>


    The party was just reaching a fever pitch, when a small knot of silence started at the door. Then the angry yelling started, and I recognized Richter¡¯s voice. With herculean effort - namely asking Kirk to toss me over the crowd - I arrived just in time to see Richter punch a dwarf I didn¡¯t recognize in the face.


    I had just enough time to shout ¡°Richter! Watch out!¡± before I plowed into him and we fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Kirk had good aim!


    ¡°Get offa me, Pete! Comin¡¯ here tonight! Yearns Yams, I¡¯ll rip ¡®im apart!¡± Richter had a far higher Strength than me, and easily stood while I desperately clung to his side like a squat hairy ko. Which was exactly like a regr ko,e to think of it.


    ¡°Richter, calm down! You¡¯re making a scene!¡± I got a nce of Richter¡¯s face and paled at what I saw there. His eyes were beginning to glow with an inner red light. He was reaching for a weapon, and he looked seconds away from losing control to the Red Rage. I grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered the first thing I could think of to shock him out of it. ¡°Your bet with Bran about what I am, <i>you</i> won the bet.¡±


    The red immediately fled from Richters eyes, and he stared at me in confusion.


    ¡°What?¡± He began. ¡°You-¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk about itter. You probably have a ton of questions, but I do too. What¡¯s going on?¡±


    The dwarf he¡¯d decked was rising to his feet, and I realised with shock that he looked a lot like an older version of Richter. He had the ck skin and dreadlocked beard of a southern dwarf, though his skin was weathered and cracked with age. He stood with a slight stoop, unlike Richter¡¯s upright stance, and wore sses.


    Richter scowled at him and answered my unasked question. ¡°This billy-goat bearded bastard is me da, Otto Scree.¡±

 Book 2: Chapter 58: The Fellowship of the Brew

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 58: The Fellowship of the Brew</h4>


    It took some finagling on my and Aqua¡¯s part to get the party back up. Experience said that a round of Liquid Gold would do the trick, and it did indeed. Soon everyone was back to merry chatter.


    Richter had absconded to the back office with Annie and his father to discuss. I kept wanting to go listen in, but my mature mind told me that they woulde talk to me when they were ready.


    They did eventually return, and Otto shook my hand to introduce himself, then disappeared back into the night as suddenly as he¡¯d arrived. He left behind a shell-shocked Richter, who was staring at the floor and blinking.


    I went and punched him in the shoulder. ¡°Hey! How did it go? Do I need to go tell Penelope to give him a running goodbye?¡±


    Richter¡¯s voice was uncharacteristically unsure as he shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Want to talk about it?¡± I passed him a tankard of Liquid Gold and he took it in shaking hands. He drained half the ss in a single chug, beforeing back up for air.


    ¡°I t¡¯ink¡­ I t¡¯ink I might, Pete. Thankee.¡±


    We pulled into one of the booths that the crew had set aside for members of the Thirsty Goat. The only current upant was an ornery Penelope. Her little drink bowly forgotten on the floor where she¡¯d dragged it after the umpteenth partygoer denied her a beer. She was in the middle of eating Aqua¡¯s satchel and that needed to stop before she did something we¡¯d all regret.


    ¡°No! Bad goat, Penelope! Shoo!¡± I waved her away.


    *Beeeeeeehh*! [Tranted From Primma Donna Goat] ¡°What a knave, to interrupt a princess while she dines! Hmph!¡± She flicked her tail and absconded, but not before taking a pair of napkins to eat as she went.


    The pair of us mbered into the small knot of silence that was the booth, surrounded by raucous drinking and partying.


    ¡°Is da Princess stayin¡¯ or going?¡± Richter asked, pointing after Penelope. ¡°Dat¡¯ll be a hard decision ta make.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°That¡¯s going to be up to Annie. I suspect she¡¯lle with, to help grant the new brewpub some legitimacy.¡±


    ¡°Aye¡­ legitimacy.¡± Richter frowned again, and sipped at his beer. The tall ck-skinned dwarf did <i>brooding</i> better than anyone I¡¯d ever seen.


    I gave him a few minutes before broaching the subject. He spent them drinking his beer in silence and asionally asking for another. ¡°So, what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°You know how me da left tha brewery, aye?¡±


    ¡°He wanted to earn more money than Jeremiah could get him, to pay for your schooling.¡±


    Richter took another chug of liquid gold. ¡°I kept turnin¡¯ him down. He ¡®asn¡¯t been ¡®round tha goat in a decade.¡±


    ¡°You don''t see him at home?¡±


    Richter waved a hand. ¡°I moved out. Family dinners are¡­ awkward.¡±


    ¡°What brings him around now? Did he just want to congratte you?¡± I had no real frame of personal reference; I was never estranged from my parents. We always got along just fine, even into my adult years. Oh sure, I never got into the hobbies dad <i>really </i>wanted me to get into, but we still had things to chat about at thanksgiving and christmas. Some of my adult <i>friends</i> however. Hooooeee.


    ¡°See, da got hired into Faultless Brewery.¡± Richter nced askance at some of the apprentice brewers from other breweries that had somehow made it into our family party. Friends of Annie or Johnsson I supposed.


    I whistled. ¡°I thought you had to be a Fault to get into that ce.¡±


    Richter nodded. ¡°Aye, or have a family based Specialisation. Me da was a [n Brewer], while Jeremiah was an [Ancestral Brewer].¡±


    ¡°He couldn¡¯t have been brewing for <i>that </i>long, and he Specialized already? Once or twice?¡±


    ¡°Just tha once. He was already an [Alchemist] when he arrived, though.¡±


    I gave another whistle. For a dwarf to get a Specialization like that in under a century was pretty amazing. I could count on both hands the number of Specialised people I¡¯d met so far. No wonder the Faults had wanted him! ¡°So, what brought him back?¡±


    Richter looked like he wanted to hit something. ¡°He¡­ he did somethin¡¯ real stupid. When they found out we won and you lot were headed to Kinshasa, he contacted the University in the Capital bymstone. They¡¯re tha biggest University in Crack, and it¡¯s hard to get into! I dunno <i>how</i> he did it, but I - I have a letter of eptance, and tuition covered. I just need ta show up in Kinshasa and the spot is mine!¡±


    He was shivering now, though if it was from stress, joy, or anger I couldn¡¯t tell.


    ¡°Are you¡­ happy?¡± I asked, cautiously.


    ¡°I dunno what ta feel! He shouldn¡¯t ¡®ave done somethin¡¯ that big without askin¡¯! Usually only nobles or rich merchants get in there!¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Do you not want it?¡±


    ¡°I DO! But! But! After all¡¯o these years, I thought he¡¯d epted my <i>no.</i> Why is he here again!?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I can answer that one. It¡¯s because we¡¯re allied with Fault Brewery right now.¡± I nodded vigorously. ¡°We owe them, and with the money they¡¯re going to be making soon, they owe us. He probably saw it as an opportunity to try and reconnect.¡±


    ¡°Annie said da same t¡¯ing.¡± Richter groaned. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure I wasing wit¡¯ you before. Getting into Minnova University was ma dream. But now¡­¡±


    ¡°But is Kinshasa University what <i>you</i> want? Listen, Richter, as parents we often make choices that we think are necessary for our children. The best we can do is teach the hard lessons we learned and hope our children don¡¯t make the same mistakes. But the most important lesson every parent needs ta learn is when to <i>let go</i>. I know some parents never really get used to the loss of control and things can get¡­ well, ugly would be a polite way of puttin¡¯ it.¡±


    ¡°<i>One</i> way of puttin¡¯ it¡­¡± Richter glowered into his beer.


    ¡°Your father probably never intended to be a Brewer when he moved here, but he threw himself into it when the opportunity presented itself. I can <i>respect </i>that, and I know that you do too. You¡¯re too logical to not see it.¡±


    Richter frowned, and began to speak, but I held up a hand to interrupt him.


    ¡°BUT! He¡¯s absolutely in the wrong here! He shouldn¡¯t have done this in a way that essentially forces you to make a choice. And it¡¯s a choice you¡¯re going to need to make, one way or the other. All I can say is that if you don¡¯te to Kinshasa with me and <i>especially</i> Berry, you will almost definitely regret it. So don¡¯t go to Kinshasa for him, do it for <i>us</i>. He just threw a weing gift in it for you.¡± I smacked the table with my palms for emphasis.


    Richter stared at me for a long while before he spoke. ¡°You going to tell me your story soon?¡±


    I blushed into my beard. ¡°Aye. I n on telling everyone on the trip to Kinshasa. There¡¯s stuff everyone will need to know. If you decide to stay, I¡¯ll tell you before we leave.¡±


    RIchter gave a broad white smile. ¡°You say I won tha bet?¡±


    I winked and he chuckled.


    I stood and stretched. ¡°Time to go socialize, Richter. Youing?¡±


    Richter settled back into the booth seat. ¡°I t¡¯ink I¡¯ll stay a while longer. You¡¯ve given me plenty ta t¡¯ink about.¡±


    ¡ª


    The rest of the night was a blur. There were so many new faces and names that even my burgeoning Intelligence couldn¡¯t handle it all. There were Titles to remember, various n connections to tap dance around, and tossed dwarves and tankards to dodge.


    All in all, it was lower key than theunch party, and much more intimate, but still definitely dwarven. The Liquid Gold started running out fairly quickly, and I was set to task using [Bottomless Barrel] as much as possible. A couple other attendees also had the Ability, so we never actually ran out of beer; the perks of a [Brewer] party. Good thing too, as the few dwarves that tried the gnomish wheat-based barista brew ran screaming for the bathrooms.


    I ended the evening with my beard done up in bows, several fresh scars, and Emerelda draped over my shoulder. We had all gathered around the bar as Annie hoisted herself up and called for attention. Penelope was front and center of the crowd, shoving her little beer dish around and getting angrier and angrier as everyone ignored her.


    ¡°Thank you so much foring to our n gathering! I¡¯d like to make a toast!¡± Annie raised her tankard. ¡°First, to Johnsson! Congrattions on your Blessing!¡±


    ¡°TO JOHNSSON!¡± We cried. His father, John Sr was <i>literally</i> crying.


    ¡°And finally to our beloved home! For Crack and Minnova!¡±


    ¡°FER CRACK AND ANNIE!¡± Came the joyful reply.


    ¡°GODS DAMN YOU ALL!¡± She roared back, crimson, and we allughed.


    After a few seconds of ranting, Annie schooled herself andunched into her speech. At this point most of the crowd were drunk or blitzed, so it was a bit long winded in my opinion. Could have used some more jokes and puns. She thanked everyone for their support, yada yada, many centuries, h h.


    Then she got to the important part!


    ¡°We¡¯ve just received the final word of who will being with us to Kinshasa!!!¡±


    The crowd grew silent. Heck, even I didn¡¯t know what wasing!


    ¡°Johnsson, Richter, Aqua, and myself will form the core of the crew!¡± Annie announced proudly. ¡°We¡¯ve been working together since we were moustached, and I can¡¯t imagine a group I¡¯d rather work with!¡±


    There was general apuse and merrymaking. I spotted Richter and he was happily epting fistbumps. I had to assume he¡¯d made his decision and spoken to Annie at some point during the party. Well, good for him! I¡¯d have to ask Berry to tutor him on some music magic on the trip to Kinshasa.


    ¡°Next, we¡¯ll be joined by the Roughtuff n! You probably better know them as Brewer Peter and my fiance, Knight Balin of Goldenlight!¡±


    Now it was my turn to face congrattory apuse, backpping, and head-bonking. I epted it all with good grace. Balin was behind the bar guarding Annie, lucky bastard, and only had to deal with shouting.


    ¡°Next! I¡¯m very pleased to announce that we n to open a simr establishment to what we have here,plete with food cooked by the one and only number one chef in Minnova! Bran Hurler! He¡¯ll be joined by his fiance Doctor Opal, who will be using up some of her years of vacation leave!¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± I heard Beatbox scream before he was drowned out by simr apuse and congrattions. Bran looked pleased as punch, and Opal looked¡­ resigned, but happy.


    I was of course over the moon! I gripped Emerelda in a big, headlocking, WWE style hug and chortled. She kneed me in the stomach in response.


    ¡°And of course, the easiest to miss will be the one person you can¡¯t miss walking in our doors! Kirk Manly, action adventurer!¡±


    This time the screams of ¡®no¡¯ definitely had a more feminine tone to them. Well, alto, at least.


    Kirk waved happily. Nobody threw tankards at <i>his</i> head I noted.


    The noise in the Thirsty Goat was reaching a fever pitch, and Annie was going to need to do something to let it off soon, or the ce would blow.


    Instead, she made a grand sweeping gesture, and announced, ¡°And I am announcing today, that the star of the Thirsty Goat¡¯s move to Kinshasa will be the one, the only ¨C ¡°


    The crowd hung on her every word as she drew it out. I was impressed. She must have been going to see wrestling with Balin on the sly.


    ¡°PENELOPE!¡± Annie finished, pointing down at the goat.


    ¡°BEEEEHHHHR!!??¡± [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°BEER!!??¡± At her name being shouted, the antsy, angry, and <i>hangry</i> goatunched herself at Annie.


    And then the party blew up.

 Book 2: Chapter 59: Countdown to Departure

    <h4>Book 2: Chapter 59: Countdown to Departure</h4>


    The next few weeks kind of blurred together. If we wanted to make it to Kinshasa with enough time to design, build, and get our brewpub started, we needed to leave by the 1st day of the 4th month. The trip itself would take just over three weeks.


    <strong>3 weeks to departure</strong>


    Master Brewer Crackle gestured widely at the fermentation tank before him. It was full to the brim with bubbling Ancestral Seed, and a grumble of apprentices bustled back and forth preparing for racking.


    ¡°As you can see, tha first stage of our Scented Brew is tha same as our regr brewing process. The bitterin¡¯ ingredient has a <i>slight</i> change in order to reduce some of the off-scents, but I found that it didn¡¯t change the vour profile that much.¡±


    I instantly pulled out my notebook, turned to an oft-used page, and held my pencil at the ready. ¡°Ah, yes, the bittering agents. Which ones did you take out, and what do you usually use?¡±


    He gave me a curious look and nced at Annie.


    Annie grinned and coughed. ¡°As a mere co-owner, Pete has not yet been inducted into the sacred ways of a [Brewer].¡±


    I groaned and put my notebook away. Crackle and Annie bothughed.


    Crackin¡¯ Brews Brewery reminded me a lot of the Thirsty Goat, pre-pub. Theyout was quite simr, with the same brewing setup, the samerge lunch-room, the same cushy front purchasing area, et cetera. The only real differences were that all the pictures of Goldstones were instead pictures of Crackles, and there was no goat-pen inside. They had a goat, for deliveries, but it was housed in the adjoining Cracklepound. Which was <i>also</i> simr to the Goldstones.


    Master Brewer Crackle had agreed to give Annie and me a quick rundown on their technique for making scented brews, and I was looking forward to it. I had a trick that I was nning for when I finally got Manasight, and this might be exactly the kind of inspiration I needed.


    ¡°I have a pretty good idea which ingredient you¡¯re talking about,¡± Annie surmised. ¡°Is it the yellow one?¡±


    Crackle nodded. ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°I tried your Scented Brew a few times over the past week,¡± I put in. ¡°It really doesn¡¯t taste that much different from regr True Brew. I actually like it a bit better, actually.¡±


    ¡°You think <i>anything</i> is better than True Brew.¡± Annie rolled her eyes.


    Crackle looked shocked. ¡°You don¡¯t like True Brew?? And you¡¯re a Brewer!?¡±


    ¡°What, does that make me an uncultured brewt?¡± I snickered.


    Crackle went from shocked to confused, and Annie shook her head.


    I circled the tank and sniffed it. It just smelled like regr fermenting True Brew to me. ¡°Have you already done it? The secret ingredient, if you will? Is it love? Please don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s love.¡±


    ¡°And are you sure you¡¯re okay with telling us this?¡± Annie said, her brow creasing with worry. ¡°I know times have been tight for your n. I don¡¯t want to take away your chance to earn gold with this.¡±


    Crackle waved our concerns off. ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. Very few will have the skills, the Ability, or the knowhow even if they know, and I would rather not have our method die with us if something should happen to the n.¡±


    Annie nodded. She had plenty of experience with ¡®something happening to the n¡¯.


    Now that we were down to brass tacks I activated [Pete¡¯s MIniature Remembrance], and pulled out my old brewing journal. It was ratty and dog-eared and far toorge for a dwarf, but it contained decades of brewing recipes and notes. Experimentation over the past week had revealed that some changes carried over between uses of the Ability. Ripping a page out didn¡¯t carry over, but <i>adding</i> to my cookbooks and notebooks did. Bran guessed that I now considered the changed notebook the ¡®true¡¯ notebook, so the Ability brought that version.


    We tried destroying a cookbook after we¡¯d copied it out, but the Remembrance still called it back. Which had given me the idea of bringing out items from my childhood. Bran gawping over my childhood Star Wars dolls is something I''ll treasure for the rest of my life.


    To everyone else it looked like a fairly standard ¡®summon something¡¯ Ability. Almost everyone had one. Warriors called their weapons, artisans their tools, wizards their wands. It seemed the Gods had made sure tools were in abundance for their precious Titled.


    Crackle waited until I had my pencil poised, then began. ¡°I had the thought of adding scent after talkin¡¯ to my sister. I was struck by tha scent of sandalwood and leather, and how much it reminded me of her. Then I thought about how brewing has its own smell, and a beardy parlour, and a mine, and so on and so forth. So many of our memories are encapsted in odour, and nobody ever seems ta think about it.¡±


    ¡°Smart!¡± Annie nodded. ¡°And effective!


    Crackle smiled. ¡°So, I tried to figure out how ta ¡®capture¡¯ scent. It turned out to beplex and simple at the same time. You see, scents are just another form of Aether, so the method for putting them into beer is to simply add another Aether to each cask as it¡¯s being racked.¡±


    ¡°Do you use magic?¡± I asked.


    Crackle shook his head. ¡°That would be too expensive. Instead, one of our Titled Journeymen used a Milestone opportunity to take an Ability that allows us ta add an Aether to a drink. It¡¯s called [Carbonate]. It isn¡¯t usually chosen by Brewers, as it¡¯s more popr with [Chemists] and [Poisoners], but this turned out to be a great use for it. It allows the user to add an Aether to another Aether.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite simple.¡± Annie nodded.


    ¡°Aye, and it works great! Tha trick is to really know the scent well, and provide the necessary intent. I had me Journeyman spend the entire month of preparation doin¡¯ nothing but oiling leather.¡± Crackle looked quite pleased with himself.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the vition.


    I felt my pencil drop from lifeless fingers. My voice quavered as I asked, ¡°If you use an Ability to Specialise¡­ can you ever get it again?¡±


    ¡°Not that I¡¯ve ever heard of¡­¡± Crackle frowned. ¡°Though it may be possible.¡±


    Annie gave me a sad look. ¡°You used to have that Ability, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    I could have wept.


    ¡ª


    <strong>2 weeks to departure</strong>


    I stood once again in Malt¡¯s office in the bowels of the Brewer¡¯s Guild Main Store. His room was a bustle of activity as apprentices moved boxes out. I hade by to finish thest of the paperwork and get an introduction to present to the Kinshasa Brewer¡¯s Guild.


    ¡°Did ya get reced as Guild Master?¡± I asked.


    Malt gave me a shocked look from where he sat in his fancy chair. ¡°Why on Erd would that be the case?¡±


    ¡°Lord Grafter decided the disaster of a Brewing Contest meant ya were unfit ta run the guild?¡±


    ¡°Ah, no no no. Though I <i>was </i>quite worried Lord ckbeard would desire vengeance.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m actually kind of surprised he <i>didn¡¯t</i>. He struck me as the vengeful type.¡± I grimaced.


    Malt nodded vigorously. ¡°Oh yes, ckbeards certainly are! However, he seems to have vanished on his trip back to Kinshasa.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Isn¡¯t he a pretty major noble? That seems like it would be big news.¡±


    Malt shrugged. ¡°Yes and no. Hees from a major family, but is a minor personality all told. I suspect it will cause some trouble for the Adventuring Guild, but that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Any idea what happened?¡±


    ¡°The less I know or guess, the better for me! My heart isn¡¯t getting any younger, you know. All this running of guilds and Octamillenials, farting beers, and warring brewers, have just been awful for my stress. That¡¯s why I¡¯m going on a vacation!¡± He indicated the movers moving his stuff.


    ¡°Oh? Good for you.¡± I dodged aside as an apprentice ran past carrying a very wide vase filled with what looked like fruitcake.


    Malt gave a beaming smile. ¡°Why thank you! How did things go with Master Brewer Crackle?¡±


    ¡°They went great! His idea gave me some more ideas for me own brews down tha line.¡±


    ¡°Ah, d to hear it! When do you leave for Kinshasa?¡±


    ¡°In two weeks, on the first of the fourth.¡±


    Malt whistled. ¡°That¡¯s quite soon! I¡¯ll need to hurry up getting things in order.¡±


    I had a sudden, horrible premonition.


    ¡°Uh¡­ why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯ming with you! Did Annie not tell you?¡±


    ¡°...¡± I took a deep breath and did my best to smile back. Charisma, don¡¯t fail me now!


    ¡°No need to be so happy about it on my ount Pete! I look forward to spending time chatting with you on the road to Kinshasa! And Annie said I may be able to stay in your tavern once the rooms are built!¡±


    ¡°Our <i>what!?</i>¡±


    ¡ª


    <strong>1 week to departure</strong>


    The two gnomes stared each other down. Each had much to prove and more to lose. Their hands shed in arcane symbols. A rock, a pick, a dwarf. This battle was one of long tradition and unfathomable power.


    The first to falter was the younger. He was less experienced, and prone to rash decisions. He broke under the constant onught of rocks and tried to throw a pick.


    The elder gnome lifted a dwarf fist in victory and preened his long moustache.


    ¡°My cart will be at the front.¡± Copperpot dered. ¡°Since I¡¯m providing most of the security for the trip, it only makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Do we even <i>need</i> the security?¡± Whistlemop whined. Bimbleberry and Copperpot¡¯s [Butler] each ran forward and presented their masters with cloths to wipe their sweating brows. ¡°I thought Drum andpany <i>dealt</i> with Ambermine.¡±


    Copperpot frowned. ¡°I sent them word, and I <i>know</i> ckbeard¡¯s carriage vanished, but I haven¡¯t seen sock nor beard of them since. It¡¯s better to take no chances until we <i>know</i>. And you do realize there are <i>monsters</i> between the cities, right?¡±


    Whsitlemop winced. ¡°Fine. You can go first, but I want second.¡±


    I coughed. ¡°Our cart is second.¡±


    ¡°Third.¡±


    ¡°Raspberrysyrup wanted to be in the middle,¡± I said apologetically.


    ¡°FOURTH!¡± Whistlemop¡¯s face grew red.


    ¡°Oooh, that¡¯s Malt¡¯s cart.¡±


    ¡°That leaves¡­ the <i>rear</i>!¡± Copperpot announced happily! ¡°Where everyone can easily see you! Splendid! I¡¯m certain you won¡¯t be the <i>butt</i> of any jokes!¡±


    He and I shared maniacalughter as Whistlemop groaned.


    Of <i>course</i> Whistlemop and Copperpot wereing with. Barista Brew had been a massivemercial sess, and the board of Pot Corporation was desperate to get Copperpot to Kinshasa to replicate the form before someone beat them to it.


    Whistlemop was quite the same, wanting to bring Whistlemugs and other Whistlesundries to the masses, though I was certain that a small part of him just didn¡¯t want me out of his sight. I was just pleased that we¡¯d have two [Butlers] along. The more time I spent being around Bimbleberry, the more I wanted one of my own. Yes, yes, I could admit I was wrong; Butlers were awesome.


    It looked like our trip was going to gnomes in the front and gnomes in the back. A regr gnomewich. And I was stuck in the middle with ewe. <i>Was </i>Penelope an ewe? What <i>was </i>the proper word for a female goat? Was it really a nanny goat? That couldn¡¯t be right¡­


    ¡ª


    <strong>2 days to departure</strong>


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t he back yet!?¡± Annie paced back and forth in the brewroom. Surprisingly little was actuallying with us. All the equipment was staying, as were the fermentation tanks. We¡¯d taken enough beer tost the first few months until we got up and running, as well as an enormous number of bottles.


    Just about everything was tied up. I¡¯d said my goodbyes, including a tearful - but chaste - farewell to Emerelda, and I¡¯d moved out of my tenement house yesterday. Bran and I had spent a few days looking for the perfect cart, and selected a long covered wooden carriage for the Thirsty Goat crew. It was simple, but well made, very dwarven; it made me think of the Yukon Trail and dysentery. It was pulled by a pair of massive unigoats, with space at the front for Penelope to lead.


    The only thing missing wasmercialism. So I had Zirce and Emma painting Thirsty Goat logos all over it.


    ¡°He said he would be back before we leave. Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s his onest hurrah with his adventuring team before we leave for Kinshasa,¡± I said.


    Annie sighed. ¡°That¡¯s the problem! I just¡­ I don¡¯t like him taking this chance so close to us leaving! It¡¯s bad luck!¡±


    ¡°Well, soon you¡¯ll be able to use your [Luck of n Goldstone] on him, and you won¡¯t need to worry about it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s <i>then</i> this is <i>now</i>.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be <i>fine!</i> What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡±


    ¡°... What did you just say?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    ¡°WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. Annie, put down the axe. Annie! I¡¯m sorry, I won¡¯t say it again! I¡¯ll knock on wood!! ANNIE!! STAY AWAY!! AHHH!!!¡±

 Book 2: Epilogue: Change

    <h4>Book 2: Epilogue: Change</h4>


    Our covered wagon ttered down the cobbles of Minnova. Its fabric sides were nicely stitched up with an enormous Thirsty Goat logo, and I¡¯d paid the gnomish [Enchanters] we¡¯d been using to put some strengthening and lightening enchantments on it. The runes glowed faintly from beneath the cart, and we had to send someone under there once a day to rece the monster core charging them, but it was worth it. It also had a magic refrigerator since going on a road trip with Bran without fresh ingredients would have been a missed opportunity.


    This cart would be able to take most forms of long range punishment, and could even block a strike or two from monsters. Plus it practically floated over the stones. A good thing, given how bumpy the ride would have been otherwise. We were going to be spending a week on the road, so I¡¯d spared no expense forfort. The seats were padded with thick brown goat¡¯s wool, and a small table ran through the center for eating or sleeping on. There were several cloth partitions that could be set up for privacy, and a series of kegs ran along one side for easy drinking.


    Of course, that left us fairly cramped, with Balin, Annie, Johnsson, Richter, Aqua, Kirk, and myself in a single wagon. Oh, and suddenly <i>guildmaster Malt </i>as well<i>.</i> At least Kirk had volunteered to spend most of the day walking, so things were simply tight instead of crushing. He was also carrying more than half our total supplies in his porter space, which made him very nearly the most important person in our caravan. If he got killed or dropped dead en-route we¡¯d be hooped.


    I watched the single-storey buildings of Minnova rattle past, and shooed away the asional cat that tried to hitch a ride. The purple light of the crystal poured in through the fabric sides and cast deep shadows within the cart. I stared at the ck shapes as they bent and twisted, and reminisced.


    It was a bit surreal, actually. Just over two years ago we¡¯d entered the city from the other direction, heading to an uncertain future in a failing brewery. Now we were exiting triumphant, the greatest brewers in all of Minnova leaving topete in a national brewing tournament.


    It was poetic, in a way.


    I turned to Aqua, who was chatting with Annie beside me. ¡°Hey Aqua, think you could write a song about us winning the contest? Immortalize it in music and whatnot?¡±


    Aqua gave me an ¡°I¡¯m busy¡± wave.


    ¡°I could write you something for the tin-whistle, Pete!¡± Malt called merrily. He had somehow managed to get hisfy chair from the guild installed in the wagon and was lounging while drinking a bottle of his own Marvelous Malts. I decided to ignore him and moved forward to chat with the dashing duo instead.


    Johnsson and Richter sat in the driver¡¯s seat, ensuring that our three unigoats stayed on course. Our wagon train was now five wagons long, with Opal and Bran adding a wagon of their ownst minute. Copperpot was in front, followed by Bran and Opal¡¯s fancy carriage, then us, next was Raspberrysyrup¡¯s ginormous stage wagon, and finally Whistlemop bringing up the rear with his ostentatious merchanting affair.


    ¡°Johnsson, Richter, how goes it?¡± I asked. ¡°Who¡¯s driving?¡±


    Johnsson held up his hand. ¡°Me.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the hard work, driving.¡±


    Johnsson gave me a confused nce. ¡°What?¡±


    Richter barked a note ofughter, then smiled and nodded.


    I grinned back. ¡°Any idents yet?¡±


    ¡°Nah. Only had to dodge a single hitball scrimmage.¡± Johnsson said. He was leaned back in his chair and rxed, with the nonchnce of someone that has spent decades driving. ¡°Little moustachios need someone to give ¡®em a toss.¡±


    ¡°You almost hit dat old dwarfess.¡± Richter chastised.


    ¡°Well she shouldn¡¯t ¡®ave tried to beat me across the street. It¡¯s a dumb idea even with a movement Ability.¡±


    ¡°And da cat?¡±


    ¡°Cat¡¯s don¡¯t count. They go where they want, and sometimes that¡¯s under wagon wheels.¡±


    ¡°You know, we¡¯re barely out of the city. How are we going to survive all the way to Kinshasa if we nearly have an ident every minute?¡± I asked, amused.


    Johnsson shrugged. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine once we hit the highway.¡±


    Richter frowned. ¡°Though we¡¯ll need ta keep an eye out for monsters. You ¡®ave a high Perception, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Pretty high. One sec.¡±


    I pulled up my character sheet for the first time in a long time. I really <i>had</i> started to stagnate in Minnova, and I could see how dwarves became so set in their ways. No new Milestones or Stats for long stretches of a time really put you in a rut.


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong>


    <strong><i>Name:</i></strong><i> Peter Roughtuff</i>


    <strong><i>Age:</i></strong><i> 50</i>


    <strong><i>Conditions:</i></strong><i> [Blessed]</i>


    <strong><i>Race:</i></strong><i> Dwarf</i>


    <strong><i>Blessings</i></strong><i>: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]</i>


    <strong><i>Title:</i></strong><i> [Otherworldly Brewer]</i>


    <strong><i>Milestones:</i></strong><i> [Power Pick], [Basic sh], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Bottomless Barrel], [Thick Skin], [Friend: Gnomes], [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Check Quality]</i>


    <strong><i>Strength:</i></strong><i> 15.4</i>


    <strong><i>Vitality:</i></strong><i> 19 [23]</i>


    Stolen novel; please report.


    <strong><i>Agility: </i></strong><i>12.2</i>


    <strong><i>Dexterity:</i></strong><i> 13.8</i>


    <strong><i>Wisdom: </i></strong><i>15.4</i>


    <strong><i>Intelligence:</i></strong><i> 15.8</i>


    <strong><i>Perception: </i></strong><i>18.4</i>


    <strong><i>Charisma: </i></strong><i>17.4</i>


    All those Milestones were really burning a hole in my pocket. Now that I had my first personal Milestone though, I really wanted to see what would happen if Ibined it with my future [Manasight]. Apparently more rare Milestones earlier meant better Specialisation paths. I also had that Karmic Reversal sitting around, whatever it did. Maybe Berry knew.


    ¡°My Perception¡¯s about 18,¡± I reported.


    ¡°About..?¡± Johnsson turned and gave me a confused look.


    ¡°EYES ON THE ROAD!¡± Richter and I screamed at the same time. Johnsson looked forward and yanked on the reins just in time to avoid sending Penelope into some roadwork.


    *MAAAAHHH!!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°You dare yank on <i>me!</i>? I shall eat your socks while you sleep, varlet!!¡±


    ¡°Sorry Princess!¡± Johnsson shouted back, shamefaced.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget that we¡¯re doing a quick stop to pick up Balin at Greentree. He sent word that he¡¯d meet us there,¡± I mentioned. ¡°He says he has a surprise.¡±


    ¡°Aye aye, bossman.¡± Johnsson muttered, echoing Kirk¡¯s nickname for me.


    Our wagon ttered onwards, to <i>destiny</i>!!!


    Or Kinshasa, whichever was closest.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: On The Road Again</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>New frontiers! New sights! New Dangers! New people to get angry at you! </i><i></i>


    <i>Thus begins the next major step on your journey!</i><i></i>


    <i>Reach Kinshasa Alive: 1.4/273.5 km traveled</i>


    <i>Rewards: 1 Agility</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Well, that wasn¡¯t ominous at all.


    ¡ª


    Somewhere else.


    On the side of a cliff stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table covered by aplex game-board sat in the centre of the gazebo. The edges of the board stretched into the distance while still somehow filling a defined space. Eight ornate figurines sat upon the board ¨C a dragon, an elf, two humans, two dwarves, a gnome, and a beastfolk.


    The two dwarvesy across from one another. One held a bottle and the other a shepherd¡¯s crook. The gnome, which was frozen in dance, stood between them.


    The gazebo was otherwise empty.


    Suddenly, there came the sound of raucousughter from outside.


    Picture, if you can, a blonde human woman with a mullet. She is garbed in the clothing of an adventurer, with a telescope at her waist and joy on her face. Except she¡¯s the size of a skyscraper and formed of the ghostly ectosm that is soulstuff. She¡¯s also surfing a waterfall straight up into the sky.


    ¡°Midna really likes that Barista Brew.¡± Archismented as the woman bailed and fell screaming down the mountain. He was as impable as usual, in his many-pocketed wizard¡¯s robe. He looked much like an old man, though his skin was made of aged, crinkled paper, and shifted with constantly swirling runes and letters.


    The only thing out of ce was the bright pink shirt he wore under his robe that proimed: ¡®Raspberrysyrup on Tour¡¯.


    ¡°Not as much as Aaron and Barck like that Liquid Gold.¡± Lunara¡¯s tone was scathing as she nced down at the two figures curled up together on the ground. One was the God Aaron, a beastfolk that seemed to be made of wisps of multi-coloured cloud, and Barck, whose green body shifted and stirred as wind streamed across him from Aaron. They wereying in each other''s arms and snoring.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Yearn?¡± Archis asked, looking around.


    ¡°She¡¯s driving.¡±


    Archis¡¯s eyes grew wide ¡°What? Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m worried. She¡¯s been far too well behaved recently.¡±


    ¡°It could be that she¡¯s distracted with all the changes happening around the world,¡± Archis theorized. He liked doing that. ¡°With all the strong feelings about, there are a lot of opportunities for her to get new Blessed.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so¡­¡± Lunara growled. ¡°I still can¡¯t find her Chosen.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s up in the human kingdoms, it¡¯ll be <i>fine</i>! You should be more worried about what¡¯ll happen when your Chosen butts heads with Peter Roughtuff.¡± Archis¡¯s tone was matter-of-fact.


    Lunara lifted her nose into the air and sniffed. Her skin, a supple velveteen darkness, was smooth and unblemished - as befitted an elf. Her robes of woven moonlight were perfectly arranged around her. ¡°Peter Roughtuff hasn¡¯t been taking advantage of his Gifts at <i>all</i>, and he isn¡¯t able to get help from Barck. I¡¯m not concerned. And what about your <i>own</i> Chosen? Shouldn¡¯t you be more worried about her?¡±


    ¡°My Chosen is pretty much untouchable by now. She may not win, but she already set what I wanted in motion.¡±


    ¡°Bah. What fun is the Great Game if you don¡¯t try to win it?¡±


    ¡°To each their own. Also, I think you may need to worry about more than just <i>Barck </i>helping Pete.¡± Archis pointed to where a shining being was devouring a set of beer-basted ribs. Solen¡¯s visage was that of a proud dragon made of roiling sunlight, which sat in juxtaposition to the dark brown sauce covering his scintiting hands. A tankard of ruby-red liquid that smelled faintly of iron sat half-empty beside him. Across the table, a gnomessyatose in a chaise lounge, several tes of goodies sitting empty before her.


    Lunara frowned. ¡°I cannot fathom how they¡¯re all so besotted. It¡¯s just <i>beer</i> and <i>food</i>.¡±


    Archis spread his hands. ¡°We are what we are, and always will be.¡±


    ¡°You imply we are incapable of change.¡± Lunara scoffed. ¡°Solen is a God of <i>chaos</i>. He¡¯s nothing <i>but</i> change.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but he''s <i>always</i> change.¡± Archis said, his eye twinkling. ¡°That is constant.¡±


    Lunara frowned. ¡°And yet while I am now the Goddess of Law, I was once the Goddess of Tradition. Where Solen is now Freedom, he was once Service. Change is clearly possible.¡±


    Archis shrugged. ¡°So, then I am wrong.¡±


    ¡°Hah! <i>You</i> admitting you were wrong? Now there''s some <i>change</i>; these are strange times.¡±


    Archis¡¯s eyes twinkled. They spoke of magic, knowledge, and darker things. ¡°They are, aren¡¯t they? But that¡¯s the point. Now, are you going to swing that axe?¡±


    Lunara swung her axe down and expertly drove the nail entirely into the wooden round. It was a perfect strike, but then, everything about Lunara was perfect and orderly.


    Archis frowned. ¡°This feels unfair.¡±


    ¡°Unfair is what Peter Roughtuff is walking into. This is Axescggen. Now, it¡¯s your turn.¡±


    He swung.


    He missed.


    But that was okay. He wasn¡¯t trying to win, he just wanted to y the game.


    And if he got bored, he knew lots of ways to overturn the board¡­

 Book 3 Prologue: The Princess is in Another Castle

    <h4>Book 3 Prologue: The Princess is in Another Castle</h4>


    The alembic fizzled and popped behind the ss shield, then turned a horrifying ck colour. Toxic fumes erupted from its mouth in a cloud of smoke. Tourmaline Barnes sighed and activated [Clean Air], whisking the dangerous aethers away. Another failure, and shed been so hopeful this time.


    She wiped some sweat from brow, and adjusted the mask that kept her beard out of all the dangerous chemicals in her workspace. Not that there were any errant bottles to be knocked over. Tourmaline was a fastidious [Toxicologist] and wouldnt allow anything so vulgar as disorganization keep her from perfecting her work.


    The alembic hissed, like a Stonesnake trapped in a dive. Tourmaline activated [Safety Shield] just before it burst, but the surge of vtile liquid was contained by therge tank she used for dangerous experiments.


    <i>That</i> was different from the previous attempts, and Tourmaline took down careful notes of everything she saw. The scent, the colour, the depth that it scored the ss - all of it was useful in her quest to save her kin. She would have a cure to the poison killing her mother within the decade, she was sure of it.


    If only there werent so many sted <i>distractions!</i>


    Speaking of which, there was a knock on her door. Tourmaline let whoever it was wait outside as she swept and cleaned, ensuring everything was back in its correct ce. She then took a moment to arrange her hair, remove her beard, and apply some scent. Nobility had to keep up appearances after all.


    She nced in the mirror, giving herself a once-over. The dwarfess that looked back at her was a ssic beauty, with silver hair hanging from her head down to her waist in shining drills. Her silver beard was festooned in golden ornaments studded with her namesake tourmalines. A serious gaze set in soft features, and sweeping eyebrows. While she hated the necessity, she could at least acknowledge that she was a fine specimen of dwarf. The image was only partly ruined by the dirtyb coat.


    Only when she was properly dressed in a shimmering set of mithril half-armour and a silver gown did she open the door, revealing a patiently waiting gnomish [Courier].


    Toxicologist Tourmaline? I have a message for you. He said, bowing at the waist.


    Tourmaline nodded imperiously, epting the small slip of paper that the [Courier] pulled out of nowhere. After reading it, she gave a few brief words of thanks, then sent him on his way.


    She followed a momentter, into the drafty halls of Castle Barnes. Now <i>there</i> was a misnomer! The castles within the White Wall of Kinshasa were nothing like the human constructions of towering bricks and mortar. From its grand entrance in the Court of Nobles to its farthest corner, Castle Barnes was abyrinth of solid stone tunnels snaking deep through the Erd. Their walls were reinforced by magic and patrolled by the finest of [Knights] and [Speakers]. Not even a <i>cat </i>could get into Castle Barnes.


    Of course, as befitted the station of one of Kinshasas oldest and most powerful ns, the walls were not simply in stone. Every centimeter had been artistically carved, covered in frescos, hung with paintings, or draped with tapestries. The floors were plush patterned carpet woven by the finest beastkin [Artisans], and kept painstakingly clear of dust. Solstones lit the winding space with warm light and wide rooms branched off here and there, providing everything from eating space to physical training equipment to a hot-spring room the size of a hitball field.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    And yet it was still drafty. And cold. The wind practically howled under her bedroom door some nights.


    Tourmaline passed by a group of servants performing their duties under the watchful eye of a dwarfess [Butler]. They all gave appropriately low bows and held out their beards in respect. Tourmaline walked past without even ncing down at them.


    She would have liked to chat, but long experience had taught her that all they had to offer were empty titudes and fawning admiration.


    She missed Minnova. She even missed the mine. She missed being WRECK.


    Wreck didnt have to bother with servants. Wreck didnt need to ensure everything about her was perfect at all times. Wreck said what she wanted and everyone got out of the way. Wreck didnt have to deal with<i> nobles </i>and all their minor hangers-ons and power-seekers.


    Wreck was <i>free</i>. Tourmaline Barnes was a goat in a gilded kennel.


    Tourmaline read over the note again. It had a few simple words written on it.


    Left for Kinshasa yesterday, arrival in three weeks.


    Tourmaline took a moment to listen for footsteps in the long stone hallway. Sound carried down these tunnels almost as easily as the draft. When she was sure she wouldnt be rudely interrupted, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In her minds eye she pictured the only real friend shed ever had, Annie Goldstone; she wasughing. Annie was almost alwaysughing in her memories, or smiling. Never frowning or with the scrunched I smell goatshit look that her Kinshasa acquaintances always had.


    Tourmaline opened her eyes and considered the mark on the back of the card - a duck sitting on a pond. The [Detective] shed hired in Minnova to keep an eye on her friends had been worth every penny. Through their reports shed been able to capture a small taste of that life she once had. Shedughed herself sick at the Ass-ster and promptly had a cask delivered to the castle. The head [Butler] had thrown a fit, but grandfather found it hrious. Shed cried in fear when Balin left for the dungeon, then cried with relief when he came back a hero. Shed jumped for joy when shed heard about Bran winning the contest to be Minnovas top chef, and actually cheered when shed learned of his engagement to Opal Sifsdotter. Then came rapid-fire news about the Thirsty Goat re-joining the guild of brewers, winning the Octamillenial Brewing Contest, and releasing two new brews to great acim.


    Barista Brew and Liquid Gold, they were called. And a few pubs here in Kinshasa had already started to carry them, at great expense.


    Every new letter came filled with emotions; joy, sadness, relief, and anger. Somewhere out there beyond the White Wall, life went on, and even if she couldnt take part she could at least live vicariously through her letters. This time though, she crumpled the paper in her hand and dreaded what was toe - what her friends were walking into.


    Over the past year Kinshasa had swelled with tourists, refugees from monster attacks, and minor nobles and adventurers eager to prove themselves at the Octamillenial. The city was a capped volcano, and there were many factions eager to see it blow.


    There was the King, at odds with his Greybeards and ording to grandfather, ready to flip the board and start over.


    There were the young and iterant nobles, eager for their ce in themplight and caring for nobody but themselves.


    There was that rabble-rouser Harmsson and his council of merchants and concerned citizens, preaching about a better way.


    Finally there were the usual unsavory elements, all salivating at the influx of the wealthy and vulnerable.


    That didnt even touch on the guilds, the chaos surrounding the variouspetitions, or the mounting pressure from the racial [Ambassadors].


    Tourmaline looked at the wall, and through it to where she knew a wagon train had to be crawling slowly towards Kinshasa. Her voice was deep and husky, as she spoke a prayer. Oh Annie. Pete. Balin. All of you, stay safe. May Aaron bless your path and the luck of Barck be with you.


    She could only hope they understood the seriousness of the situation, and were prepared for what was toe.

 Book 3: Chapter 1: The Manticore’s Gullet

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 1: The Manticore''s Gullet</h4>


    "45 bottles of beer on the wall! 45 bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, 44 bottles of beer on the wall!


    The song echoed through the ginormous cleft in the walls of Crack, the sound of a dozen dwarven voices lifted in a merry tune.


    There was a pause before 44 bottles, and the sound of chugging, before the next verse was sung.


    44 bottles of beer on the wall, 44 bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, 43 bottles of beer on the wall!


    We allughed as the blonde-bearded Johnsson tried to finish drinking his bottle before copsing to the floor, his eyes rolling back into his head. Well, mostly blonde-bearded, he currently had pink tips on his mustache and braids. His usually ruddy skin was flushed a bright pink to match.


    Still a lightweight, Johnsson! Richter guffawed, before tipping back into his chair as well. We waited a beat, but he didnt get back up. A snore rose from the dark-skinned southerners lips, and we all turned back to our singing.


    43 bottles of beer on the wall! 43 bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, 42 bottles of beer on the wall! Cue more gulping.


    Ugh, I cant anymore! Aqua jumped up from her seat and ran to the edge of the wagon. She stuck her head out through a gap in the canvas and the sound of retching reached our ears. The gigantic human sitting scrunched up in a corner, reached over to pat her back.


    Aqua peeked back bleary-eyed and rubbed at her blue moutache. Thanks Kirk.


    My pleasure! He shed her a stunning smile and a wink. The brown haired, white-skinned Kirk Manly was almost depressingly handsome. With a voice worthy of an audiobook narrator, and a body to match, he was the quintessential manly man.


    This is an incredible waste of God given Abilities. The diminutive pink-haired gnomess sitting beside meined. Unlike the dwarves circled cross-legged in the wagon, she was drinking from a cup of tea. Instead of armour, Raspberrysyrup was dressed in a frillyce dress thatplemented her porcin skin. The purple-haired gnomess beside her - her manager Amethyst - nodded in agreement.


    I, Peter Roughtuff, dwarf male, age 50, single, was dressed in a stylish leather gambeson with an open neck. A pair of silvery shoulderpads matched my finely crafted bracers. Id tossed my ck gorget aside a while earlier, along with my ck chestguard; they were just a bit too ufortable with the shaking of the carriage.


    I pulled at my curly reddish-brown beard, and raised a set of incredibly bushy eyebrows. If tha Gods didnt want me ta make infinite beer, they shouldnae ave given me an Ability that lets me. I patted the cask beside me and activated my Ability again. [Bottomless Barrel]!


    I think its great! Means we dont need to worry about having enough to drink for the trip. Annie said, as she began refilling castoff bottles from the now literally bottomless barrel.


    You know Brewer Pete, when you told me you choose [Bottomless Barrel] as an Ability, I thought it a strange choice. A shock-white bearded dwarf murmured from where he was nursing his own bottle - a brown coloured affair from his own brewery. He was dressed in the ck armoured robes of a Master Brewer, and for once <i>didnt</i> smell of onions. But I must say that I do understand now. This game of yours is amusing to watch!!


    Raspberrysyrup rolled her eyes. As the only other secret Earth native on this cart, and an aplished musician to boot, she wasnt the biggest fan of me teaching everyone the quintessential ssic, 99 bottles of beer on the wall.


    I grinned back at Malt, guildmaster of the Minnova Brewers Guild and stowaway-cum-self-invitee on our little quest to the dwarven capital of Kinshasa. Speaking of Quests, I had quite a few cluttering up my hindbrain now.


    <strong>Inactive Quest: Alls Fair in Love and War 1/7</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Youve discovered your first other Chosen, now sabotage them!</i><i></i>


    <i>Chosen Sabotaged: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Karmic Reversal + 1]</i>


    <strong>Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 1,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i>Dwarves Influenced: 536,325/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Petes Poor Manasight]</i>


    <strong>Quest: More Brews Part 1/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>Youvepleted your first new beer. More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i> Invent eight new drinks. Mixes dont count.</i><i></i>


    <i> Drinks Invented: 5/8</i>


    <i>Rewards: 0.2 Strength</i>


    <strong>Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 6/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 100,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 76,321/100,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Sense Poison]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    <strong>New Quest: On The Road Again</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>New frontiers! New sights! New Dangers! New people to get angry at you! </i><i></i>


    <i>Thus begins the next major step on your journey!</i><i></i>


    <i>Reach Kinshasa Alive: 123.4/273.5 km traveled</i>


    <i>Rewards: 1 Agility</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    Stolen novel; please report.


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I really needed to get on that ''More Brews'' Id make sure to start pumping new drinks out in Kinshasa ASAP.


    Almost halfway to Kinshasa ording to On The Road Again. This cross country trip was an interesting change from the usual grind, but dear Gods it took forever to travel by wagon. 300 clicks was barely an afternoon drive back home, but it was going to take us nearly THREE WEEKS. That was forever! And it was worse because I could literally see the world changing while we were stuck in rickety-wagon-limbo.


    My Gnomish Influencer quest had been rapidly running up during our trip, and quickly reached level 6, granting me a bonus to dexterity and intelligence. All the moving of boxes and carrying equipment had also upped my strength by 1. My Dwarven Influencer quest was also increasing again for some reason. I suspected it had to do with the wagons filled with barrels of Thirsty Goat beer Id seen pass us headed for Kinshasa.


    I pulled up my status sheet and gave it a read while Aqua began retching again and Malt and Annie began arguing about the best colour for bottles. It appeared todays round of beers on the wall hade to an end.


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong>


    <strong><i>Name:</i></strong><i> Peter Roughtuff</i>


    <strong><i>Age:</i></strong><i> 50</i>


    <strong><i>Conditions:</i></strong><i> [Blessed]</i>


    <strong><i>Race:</i></strong><i> Dwarf</i>


    <strong><i>Blessings</i></strong><i>: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]</i>


    <strong><i>Title:</i></strong><i> [Otherworldly Brewer]</i>


    <strong><i>Milestones:</i></strong><i> [Power Pick], [Basic sh], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Bottomless Barrel], [Thick Skin], [Friend: Gnomes], [Petes Miniature Remembrance], [Check Quality]</i>


    <strong><i>Strength:</i></strong><i> 16.4</i>


    <strong><i>Vitality:</i></strong><i> 19 [23]</i>


    <strong><i>Agility: </i></strong><i>12.2</i>


    <strong><i>Dexterity:</i></strong><i> 14.4</i>


    <strong><i>Wisdom: </i></strong><i>15.4</i>


    <strong><i>Intelligence:</i></strong><i> 16.4</i>


    <strong><i>Perception: </i></strong><i>18.4</i>


    <strong><i>Charisma: </i></strong><i>17.4</i>


    I hopped up from the drinking circle and went forward to peer outside. The carriage in front of us was an ornate affair, with runes emzoning the sides to provide magicalforts. That was Bran and Opals carriage. In front of themy Copperpots massive wagon, along with a cart for his guards. I couldnt see it from here, but I knew that the main reason for our slow travel, Raspberrysyrups stage wagon, was trundling slowly behind us, followed by my good colleague Whistlemops ostentatious salescart.


    At the very rear was a surprise addition, a cart belonging to the Brightstar Adventuring group. Theyd decided to tag along with us to Kinshasa on the spur of the moment. Their leader, Starshine Morris, was a statuesque [Juggernaut] who walked, talked, and - as far as I could tell - slept, in her shining silver armor. She was affable and charismatic, but more uptight than a college dorm RA. I couldnt fault her for it, since she was responsible for the safety and wellbeing of my brother in the dangerous dungeons of this world.


    They were headed to Deepcore dungeon in Kinshasa, and hoped to make a name for themselves in the capital.


    Speaking of Balin


    Thanks for driving the cart, brother. I pped him on the back and plunked down beside him on the drivers seat.


    No problem, Pete. Balin said, his eyes never leaving the road. His golden armor took up a lot of space on the seat, forcing me to the very edge of the sewing wagoneers seat. Sheer rock cliffs passed by us on each side, slowlying together far above our heads. I would have been terrified of rockslides if I didnt know that dwarven [Speakers] and [Stoneshapers] often passed through here, ensuring the safety and strength of the roads and walls.


    We were currently passing through a section of the road between Kinshasa and Minnova called <i>The Manticores Gullet</i>. It was one of the few ces in Crack that wasntpletely open, narrowing down to a mere twenty meters or so wide. It had once been the domain of a Manticore, but was now simply a long narrow passage separating the enormous bowl that housed MInnova, and the Western Territories of Crack.


    It was the perfect ce for an ambush, which was why there was a permanent contingent of Highwatch stationed here. I nodded up as we passed by a grim-faced dwarf standing watch in a cleft in the cliff above us and he nodded back curtly. Then we passed them by and there was only a nk wall to look at again.


    What are you goin ta do when we get to Kinshasa? I smalltalked.


    Were goin to tha adventurin guild first. We need ta get registered there, and spend a few weeks doin research before we go to tha dungeon. Cannae go in until ya pass a written test.


    I blinked. A written test? For adventuring?


    Aye. Fer tha monsters and geography and other dangers. Tha guild wont let ya in unless ya can prove ya know what yer gettin into. Aishablue bought a few books and weve been reading them during our breaks. Balin tapped the side of his head.


    Yaknow, that makes an incredible amount of sense.


    Did they not have it back in yer home?


    No dungeons, but there were a lot of times I wished people needed to take a written test first. I sighed. Like bing a parent, or a politician.


    Hah! Wouldnt that be nice! Balin guffawed. What about you lot? Youll be busy!


    Aye. So much to do. When we arrive well be given a location to build a brewery, and then about a month to build and staff it. The cost is covered by the Crown, so Ill be working with Copperpot to automate as much of it as possible. He has some ideas for specialised golems were excited to test.


    Like Georgie? Balin asked, referring to the plucky Goldstone family golem. Wed left Georgie behind in Minnova, much to the regret of our backs. The greybeards wed left to run the brewery definitely needed him more than us though.


    I shook my head. Nothing like Georgie. More like an arm that does one thing over and over again. Or a wheel that spins by itself. Its a golem, but <i>not</i>. Back home we called them robots, or automated systems.


    Sounds interestin.


    Oh, Copperpot is going crazy over it. The Pots have been using simr principals in their engineering devices, especially their drills and diggers. This may revolutionize brewing and other industries everywhere!


    Wont it be expensive? That sounds like a lot o magic stones.


    Aye, but the crownll be payin for it. I grinned, maliciously. Id sent a lot of gold upriver earlier this year, and I was itching to get some of it back, plus interest.


    Branll be with ya, right? Ma Annie was talkin bout a tavern instead of a brewpub.


    Yeahhhh, Annie wants to upgrade to a full inn with an attached brewpub; to encourage travelers to stay. She thinks itll help spread the word about our beers, since our main clientele would be passing through en-route to distant shores. I swept my hand expansively to the very short horizon.


    I wasnt too keen on the idea, but that was probably just fear of change. It could be interesting, and besides, owning a fantasy tavern was every brewer''s dream! Id be the wise barkeep that everyone tipped to learn whats goin on in town!


    I pulled nervously at my beard. But first, before we get to Kinshasa I need toe clean to the rest of the crew. About my past.


    Balin looked away from the road for a moment to give me a raised eyebrow. Why now?


    Things could get dicey in Kinshasa, and I want everyone to know how and why I know stuff. Plus theres some potential danger I need everyone to keep an eye out for. Plus, I promised Richter I would.


    Balins brows drew back down and his voice dropped to a whisper. Is it tha thing with tha Game you were tellin me about?


    Aye. Ill tell everyone tonight. Keep up the good driving, Im going back to see if I cant actually down the full 99 beers before I pass out or explode.


    Alright, Pete! I cant wait ta see tha look on Johnssons face when you tell everyone!

 Book 3: Chapter 2: Goldstone Clan Grumble

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 2: Goldstone n Grumble</h4>


    When you want to do a big reveal, ambiance is important. If you hold the seance for grandpa on thewn instead of in a dark living room, it hitspletely differently when you find out Bob aint yer uncle.


    So I spent a bit of time with Richter getting everything just right. In a world with magic, you may as well put the extra OOMPH in! Richter set up a barrier device Id bought for preventing eavesdroppers, and did a sweep for magical listening apparatus. I intensely regretted not being more careful with operational security before now, but I still wasnt used to being a goldmine. Orndmine, depending.


    We kept the preparations as secret as we possibly could in our close quarters. No need to alert anyone that something special was happening tonight before it happened. I wanted the goat crew to know, but I still wasnt ready to reveal the information to Copperpot or Whistlemop or the others. Anyone that would try to take <i>advantage</i> of my existence was out for now. I was good colleagues with Copperpot and Whistlemop and Malt, but they werent quite family, and theyd be the first to admit that theyd wring every possible bit of technology or advancement out of me.


    The n was to hold a n Grumble when we stopped for the night for everyone to sit, drink, andin about the trip. A grumble was the word for a group of dwarves, and a n Grumble, was exactly that - a n grouping together to grumble. And after a week stuck in a wagon together, there was lots to grumble about!


    Traveling through the Manticores Gullet took the better part of a half-day, and we knew wed reached the end when a stone palisade and gate blocked our way. An alert Highwatch contingent descended upon our caravan, demanding our manifest and reason for traveling to Western Crack. The group was clean cut, well-armed and armoured, and looked ready to eat anyone that looked at them sideways. They rifled through our wagons for an hour or so before giving us the all clear.


    As we passed through the gates, the great crack of Crack opened before us, vaulting to a ceiling high, <i>high</i> above us. I whistled, and beside me on the drivers seat, Balin gasped.


    Our dear old city of Minnova was held within what was essentially arge underground bowl, and on the outskirts you could see the cave walls stretching around the horizon. The ceiling was easily visible, and covered in speckles of glowing lichens and mosses that resembled the Milky Way. It kind of felt like being in Whistler Ski Resort at night with the mountains surrounding you, except down here the mountains met above you in the sky.


    Western Crack was quite different, as I couldnt see <i>any</i> walls from where we were. Unlike Minnova, there was no purple crystal providing light - the space was simply too big for that. Instead, the faint light of the sun could be seen filtering through a, well, <i>crack</i> in the ceiling far, <i>far</i> above us. It ran across the sky like a rent in the world, a lightning bolt that stretched and flickered and never went out. God beams pierced down into the darkness but never even came close to the ground. There was no luminescent ceiling moss here, instead enormous floatingnterns dotted thendscape, each providing a yellow glow that stretched out for a kilometer or so. The walls of the cavern were nowhere to be seen besides right behind us.


    It also smelled differently here. Less musty and more sterile, like stone and old age. Arge t space sat immediately to our left, clearly meant as a rest point for caravans, but the rest of thendscape simply stretched out ahead in stoney waves and disappeared into the horizon. A few travellers could be spotted far down the road, but the sheer scale made it impossible to judge exactly how far away they were.


    It felt like the old joke about the Prairies, where you could watch your dog run away for three days.


    As I watched, actual <i>birds</i> flitted from a nest on one of thenterns, chasing some invisible bugs. At least, I thought they were birds; they were too fast to be bats, but in Erd you never knew There was still so much to learn that it was driving me <i>batty</i>. Nyuck.


    By all tha Bits o tha Gods. I whispered, taking in the sight.


    Cave swallows. Richters voice interrupted from behind us, and I jumped. Balin was unmoved. Dey stay outta da Gullet fer some reason. Nobody knows why.


    My eyebrows creased. Why not ask them? Get a [Therian] Birdboy or something to talk to them.


    Richter gave me a shocked expression and pped his forehead. All de Gods, why did nobody tink of dat! Thousands o years and millions o dwarves but nobody asked de birds!


    I narrowed my eyes and he chuckled.


    <i>Nobody</i> knows. Deys afraid of it, but dey cant say why, he shrugged.


    Animals do weird things in tha dungeons too, Balin added, its just a part of tha world.


    We sat in silence for a while longer, before Richter patted me on the shoulder. Were all ready fer tonight.


    Thanks Richter.


    No problem. I cant wait ta find out what all de fuss has been about.


    Copperpots wagon turned off to the rest-stop and the rest of the caravan followed suit, creating a perfect little circle. Bran and Opal were the first to disembark, hopping off their fancy schmancy cart as fresh as daisies. A week of rumbly travel had left the rest of us with weak knees, but not Mr. and soon-to-be-missus Fancy Pants Nobles.


    Bran split from Opal and wandered over. Oy, Pete. I need to borrow Kirk. Opal says theres a cookin setup here somewhere, and I need his eyes and porting.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Ooooh! Cooked dinner!! Oy Kirk! Bran needs ya fer dinner! I shouted.


    There was an instantmotion in the wagon. Dinner!? Dinner!! Kirk, get out there! Im goin, let me get ma boots on! Humans dont need boots! Who told you that, everyone needs boots! There followed the sound of grunting and thumping, and various other sounds to make a dwarf blush. A momentter Kirk jumped out and ran to follow Bran as they searched for a way to eat something other than trail rations for a change.


    Balin hopped off the wagon, passing me the reins. Down below us there came an exhausted bleat from the four unigoats pulling the wagon. [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] Of all the goats in the world, I am the most mistreated. Someone bring me beer that I might drink myst and perish.


    I hopped down as well and began giving the goats a rubdown, starting with the pure white Penelope. She glowered at me, the architect of her despair, and bleated usingly.


    Sorry, not sorry Penelope. Just two more weeks and well be there! Ill make sure you get a good helping of Liquid Gold with dinner tonight.


    She nailed me with an using eye. Shed been oddly perceptive recently, and I had to wonder for the umpteenth time if Barck had been serious about her being the reincarnation of my wife, Caroline.


    No, no, that wayy madness and I was no Welshman.


    There was more swearing from the cart, and I went to go help with a heavy sigh. Mayhaps a delicious dinner for the first time in a couple days would calm everyone down.


    Dinner both helped and didnt help. Everyone was a good bit more cheerful after a delicious meal of smoked mutton on a bed of erdroot and beer-gravy, but that just meant the energy level went through the roof. Both Johnsson <i>and</i> Kirk got tossed, to the amusement of the rest of the caravan. Bran actually had four different gravies to try, one for each of our new brews. I was partial to the barista brew gravy along with Copperpot, Whistlemop, and the rest of the gnomish contingent. Kirk was the only one to try the ass-ster gravy, and he dered it to be rumbly.


    Berry looked like she was in heaven, and leaned in to whisper, you eat like this every day?? No wonder you went native!


    I grunted with pleasure and nodded. Bran had indeed been key to my survival in Erd, and I was d Id managed to keep him on.


    After the food, everyone said their goodnights and trundled off to their wagons, except for Bran and Opal, who followed us back to the Thirsty Goat wagon.


    As we climbed in, Balin tapped me on the shoulder and passed me a bup sack. Its been so busy I fergot ta give this to ya, Pete! Nows as good a time as any.


    This thatest haul? I asked, peeking into the bag. It seemed to be full of various leaves and flowers. They looked <i>distinctly</i> different from the usual muck hed been bringing recently, and there was the faintest whiff of freshly cut grass.


    Aye. Got a bit of everythin from a grasslion, and some nts from tha Endless in. Balin pointed to some bits that looked like long grass gone to seed and my gaze sharpened. If thered been time, I wouldve started running through my list of ingredients on the [Minimap], but there was a line of ornery dwarves behind me, and Id been promising answers.


    I closed the sack and tied it to my belt with a grimace. Ill give it a once over after the meeting, thanks Balin.


    We filtered into the wagon and gathered in a circle. There was Balin, out of his golden armour for once, and twiddling his impressive handlebar moustache. His fiance Annie sat beside him, running ab through her golden braids. The blue-bearded Aqua sat beside her, chatting merrily with the bookish-yet-muscly Richter. Johnsson was discussing beard-care with a beard-curious Kirk while Bran and Opal cuddled and whispered sweet nothings to each other.


    That was everyone, not including Malt whod been relegated to keeping watch for an hour or so. Hed been happy to do so, pulling out the Crack Book of Ordinances and getting cozy in front of the campfire.


    Once everyone wasfortable, Annie stood and pped her hands. As head of the Goldstone n, Im here to listen to the members and workers of n Goldstone. I call to order this n Grumble.


    What followed for the next hour or so was indeed a grumble, with a lot of grumbling to be had. There wereints about the food, the constant sense of danger, the way the Highwatch had touched everyones personal belongings, and theck of nightly Bran-cooked meals. As n head, it was Annies responsibility to listen to theints. She didnt necessarily need to solve them, just provide a safe ce for dwarven anger to vent. We didnt want someone losing themselves to the Red Rage just because we hit a particrly bad bump on the road.


    After an hour or so, there was no more grumbling to be heard, and in the silence I nced up from where Id been doodling bearded cats on the wagon wall. I flushed as I realized everyone was staring at me.


    Annie smirked and asked, are you ready to give your little speech Pete?


    Aye. I stood and looked around at everyone. Annie and I had talked long and hard about including Kirk in this little discussion as he was still a neer. Wed decided we had little choice. Considering our ns, there just wasnt any real way to keep him in the dark without excluding him. We just needed to trust our evaluation of him and hope he wasnt a secret evil cultist or something. Hey look! Foreshadowing!


    Johnsson sat up eagerly. Ooooh, is it finally big reveal time? Ive been dying of curiosity.


    Annie and Aqua snickered the snigger of someone that knew a secret, and Bran patted Opal reassuringly on the back as she leaned forward with interest. They were among those that knew most - but not all - of the story. Little did they know that they were in for some surprises as well.


    I nodded. Yes, Johnsson. Im finally ready to reveal the truth. I spread my legs and posed in my best man-wearing-a-set-of-blue-spandex-with-bat-ears pose. IM BATMA-!


    NO JOKES! Aqua interrupted, and I deted.


    Fiiine. I whinged.


    Kirk was looking around confused. He held up his hand. Whats everyone talkin about?


    Pete got amnesiast year after a mining ident, Annie exined. Hes been acting weird ever since.


    There was a general chorus of agreement and I ground my teeth. Sorry for being <i>weird</i>. But theres a very good reason for that. You want the truth? You cant handle the truth! In reality, Im not actually from Crack. Im not even from ERD. My name is/was Peter Phillips, and I was originally a human on a world called Earth.


    Johnsson put his hand up but was immediately shushed by everyone.


    I continued, My soul was brought here by Barck, and Im in apetition with seven other souls Chosen by the Gods to be catalysts for changing the world. Barck gave me a mandate from heaven to brew beer, because in my previous life I was a Master Brewer with hundreds of different brews under my belt. Its a cutthroat contest with a wish from the Gods on the line, and I dont know where or who most of the otherpetitors are, but theres a good chance theyll want me dead. Oh, and at some point in Kinshasa, Barck is going to descend to Erd andpete with me for my soul.


    Shocked silence met my words, and Johnsson''s hand drooped limply to the floor. The smug looks Annie and Aqua had been sporting had been reced with horror - Id never told them the bit about the wish. Then the grumbling <i>really</i> got started.

 Book 3: Chapter 3: Answering Hard Questions

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 3: Answering Hard Questions</h4>


    The questions came rapid-fire at first, then slowed down as everyone digested.


    Questions like: how old were you, were you really a brewer, do you like being a dwarf, did you get any Godly powers, what are quests, how expensive <i>was </i>your soul, what was it like kissing someone without a beard? I was happy to answer any and all questions, though I told Aqua I wasnt going to answer thest one.


    The first to voice a seriousint was Johnsson. Wait, Im confused. Why does Richter seem to know what was going on already? And Aqua too.


    Bran, whod just been drilling me on my during death experiences, turned away shamefaced, and Annie coughed ufortably. Balin twiddled his thumbs.


    Johnssons eyes grew wide with dawning horror. Wait, am I tha <ist</i> to know!? You told everyone <i>but me</i>!?


    Opal growled as she punched Bran in the arm. They didnt tell me, either!


    Johnsson red at her. You dont work with him! Weve been practically livin together for over a year!


    I was his doctor!


    I coughed. I dont see how thats relevant -


    Opal held her hand up in a shushing motion. You could have been harboring some kind of inter-dimensional disease! For shame!


    I blinked twice, as did everyone else.


    Uhh thats not how - Richter began, but Opal simply repeated, FOR SHAME!


    I still dont think its fair. I feelpletely and utterly betrayed! Johnsson moaned. I got the definite feeling he was hamming it up for effect, but I really did feel bad.


    Kirk held up his hand. Honestly, Pete really <i>does</i> seem pretty normal to me.


    You may not have a good baseline on what makes a normal dwarf, then. Annie smirked.


    Not that anyone in tha Thirsty Goat is a good baseline. Bran muttered. Opal chuckled and patted his back in clear couplenguage for: You chose this hell, now lie in it.


    Johnsson nailed me with a steely glower, and I shrank back, exining desperately, Im sorry Johnsson, we just never really hung out much. Richter figured it out during our lessons, Aqua and I butted heads over administration, I had to bribe Bran with otherworldly recipes, and Balin and Annie knew because, well, one was my boss and the other my brother!


    You bribed Bran with <i>what</i>? Opal asked, her eyes narrowing. By Midnas Mangy Mullet, this is <i>certainly</i> an eye-opening conversation!


    Bran gave me a look that screamed someones getting spit in their soup and turned to talk down his betrothed.


    Well, if its just a problem of not hanging out, you just need tae with me to more beardy parlours. Johnsson said with conviction, as he shakily stood to pour himself a drink. Aaron knows your beard always needs more care, and hasnt <i>that</i> been fully exined. And I know you like wrestling, so we should go to some in the capital; they have the most amazing ring. Did they wrestle on your E-Arth?


    Annie waved to catch everyone''s attention. Alright, alright. Johnsson, were all sorry about keeping you in the dark, and Opal, please give us Brans ear for a moment. Peter, I <i>really</i> need you to exin a bit more about the Chosen of the Gods bit. Not the Im so special bit, but the other Chosen may try to kill us bit.


    I sighed and pulled at my beard. ording to my chat with Barck -


    YOU TALKED WITH BARCK!? Johnsson shouted, spitting beer across the room. Aqua shrieked as some got in her eyes.


    Yes Johnsson, do keep up. When we chatted, he made it clear that the other seven Chosen Catalysts as he called them, would be trying to win this little contest. Oh, and apparently he broke some rules, and we dont get as much Godly aid as the rest of them. Theres a big prize for whichever mortal-sh-Godbo wins, including a wish for anything.


    Aqua whistled. Oooooh, thats bad.


    Balin nodded. Especially if theyre anythin like Pete. What if one of <i>them</i> makes somethin even worse than Boomdust?


    We all shivered. I gulped and continued, It gets worse! When I met the first other Chosen, thats Berry, I got a quest giving me a pretty sweet reward for sabotaging her. I didnt, of course.


    Wait, <i>Berry</i>s a Chosen as well?? This time it was Annies turn to be horrified.


    Once I knew about Pete, it was obvious. Richter chuckled.


    She told me herself ages ago. Though I figured it out from Pete. Aqua said, smugly. I was hoping youd figure it out yourself.


    Hurts, doesnt it. Johnsson hissed. Bein thast to know.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Can ya tell us de reward fer da quest? Richter asked.


    Something called a Karmic Reversal? I already got one, let me read it. I said, pulling up the information on it and reading it aloud.


    <strong>Karmic Reversal [One Use Remaining]</strong><strong> </strong><i>You can call upon a karmic reversal to reverse the flow of fate. After one hour passes, the weight of destiny shall descend again. However, only Gods are truly bound by fate and it is the right of mortals to fight against its current. </i>


    Thats what it says. I exined. I never really had an opportunity to ask Prophet Barnes about it. I think it means I can turn back or stop time or something?


    Opal whistled. Ive heard of simr abilities for highly Specialised [Doctors] or [Healers]. They can use it to save patients that are certain to die.


    Phooey, I donnae believe in Fate. Balin grumped, hugging Annie close. We choose our own destinies.


    Aye, but some destinies ave a greater <i>weight</i> than othas. Richter hedged. If yer in da belly of a cavern whale, your destinies are mostly short and few.


    I nodded. I think thats what it means to fight against the current. My <i>current </i>fate is to be a few more meters down the road to Kinshasa tomorrow. If I chose to use [Karmic Reversal], maybe something else would happen. The wheel would fall off, or wed be attacked by monsters or -


    OH DEAR GODS! Annie yelped. AGAIN!?


    Are you tryin ta get us killed, Pete!? Johnsson shouted, hopping to his feet.


    Ill check on tha camp! Richter rushed out the front of the wagon and sprinted off.


    I stared at everyone bbergasted as they jumped into motion. What!? Just saying it doesnt actually make bad things happen! Last time nothing happened to Balin, right Annie!?


    Hold him down and shut him up! Aqua demanded, advancing with wide arms.


    I screamed as I was buried ignominiously beneath a pile of dwarves. And a single extremely heavy human.


    I rubbed at my aching shoulders, where [Regeneration] was busy repairing my sprain. I still think it''s ridiculous. Mentioning something aloud doesnt mean its going to happen.


    Malt plonked down beside me in front of the fire. I was on the first watch with him since Id been kicked out of the wagon for weing a test from the Gods. Two of Balins party - Aishablue and Manny were chatting on the other side of the fire along with a couple of Copperpots guards.


    In Canada, the tradition was to mutter Knock on Wood whenever we said something that could be considered bad luck. Id always thought it was meant to ward off the devil or something by knocking on wood, but Id learnedte in life that Id been doing itpletely wrong. You werent supposed to knock on <i>wood</i>, but on anything <i>but</i> wood. When you said something unlucky, any listening faeries would work to make it happen, but if you followed it up by saying knock on wood, but instead knocked on some stic, theyd think you were just talking nonsense.


    Not that I agreed with it, but in a world where the Gods were always watching and liked to test peoples worthiness he was asking for it took on new meaning.


    Theyll forgive you, eventually. Malt passed me a tankard full of brew and I stared at it suspiciously. He smiled. Its some of your Liquid Gold. I know you dont like True Brew.


    Ah, in that case, thankee. I took a drag and sighed. Still not perfect, but it would do.


    We sat and stared at the fire for a while. A passage from a book about not looking at fires on watch ran through my mind, but I ignored it. We were arge enough group that bandits would avoid us and my [Minimap] was set to Monsters. Plus, we had that terrifying ss mantis thing out there somewhere and Mannys ssfly-eye-spies. That gnome was <i>scary!</i>


    Do you mind if I ask a question? Malt broached the silence.


    Aye.


    Malt began to speak, then snapped his mouth shut with a *ck*. Yes. you mind, or yes, I can ask?


    Yes, you can ask. Malt elbowed me in the ribs and we shared a chuckle. Go ahead, I may or may not answer.


    You act a bit old for your age, sometimes, you know that Pete? So tell me, why did you want to get to Kinshasa so badly? Youve been pushing yerself so hard that at this rate youll burn out before you even hit a hundred. Ive seen it in young dwarves countless times over the years. The ones that never be old dwarves, that is.


    Huh Conceptually, I understood that my new body wouldst hundreds of years - barring a monster attack or acute liver failure - but my brain still wasnt fully epting the implications. <i>Would</i> I burn out? I was slowly turning more and more dwarflike, but <i>Peter Phillips </i>was originally human. I set the thoughts aside to answer Malts question. Part of it is to spread me brews to more dwarves. I want <i>everyone</i> to fall in love with Liquid Gold, tough at a friend splitting cheeks with Ass ster, and get blitzed on Barista Brew. The Octamillenial is tha best stage fer that. Minnova is smallpared to tha reach and poption of Kinshasa.


    Malt nodded. Aye, I can see that.


    I looked up at where the crack was, far above us. Now that it was nighttime, the ceiling was pitch ck, with only the floatingnterns above us shedding dim light into the massive cavern. A ghostly wail echoed through the hills and the watchers all sat to attention, but itde from far off, and we were all soon at ease again.


    I continued, but its more than that, too. Theres still so many new things to try, ces ta go, and ingredients to test. Kinshasas tha gateway to tha surface world, and I want ta see it. I also wanted toplete my dwarven influence quest to get [Manasight], so I could finally start ying with magic. Magic brews! Fireballs! Both alcoholic and mey! And now that I had an influence quest for gnomes, there were probably simr ones for the other races too. What wondrous quest rewards would there be for those??


    Ahhh, an adventurer. I know tha type. It takes some, like yer giant, Kirk; the wanderlust. Malt sighed. Thats even more dangerous than tryin to change the Sacred Brew. I hope you dont run off and leave your crew behind.


    Not a wanderlust, its a crafters lust. I want to <i>be</i> the best. <i>DO</i> the best. To share my love of brewing with the <i>world</i>. Not just dwarves. Humans. Elves. Dragons. <i>THE GODS.</i> I grasped my hand in the air, as if capturing a dream in the palm of my hand.


    Malt stared at me, sideyed, and took a sip from his mug. I waited for him to speak again, but he remained silent. We sat quietly for another hour or so, listening to Manny and AIshablue discuss themon monsters of Deepcore Dungeon, and staring into the warmth of the fire.


    When it came time to switch shifts we shared a cordial good evening, and Bran and Opal took our ces.


    I settled into my cot on the wagon nestled between Balin and Johnsson, and was soon fast asleep.


    Of course, nothing attacked us that night. That wouldve been ridiculous.

 Book 3: Chapter 4: I Should Have Knocked on Wood

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 4: I Should Have Knocked on Wood</h4>


    The attack happened five dayster.


    THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, PETE! Aqua screamed as the enormous, granite-encrusted waby thing smashed its tail into the wagon we were hiding under.


    SLAGIT, HOW IS THIS MY ELFIN FAULT!?


    YOU WERE THE ONE TALKING ABOUT FATE AND EVERYTHING BEING FINE JUST FIVE DAYS AGO!


    I THINK FIVE DAYS IS MORE THAN ENOUGH TIME FOR IT TO BE CONSIDERED UNRELATED!


    ILL UNRELATE YOUR BEARD FROM YOUR <i>FACE </i>IF WE SURVIVE THIS!!


    Both of you, shaddup! Richter hissed from where he was crouched behind a wagon wheel. Stoneskin wombats are mostly blind. Its just goin after tha loudest sound!


    Eh, wombat, waby, same difference. It was just another garden-variety Aussie murder mammal. It looked like a squash-faced disproportionate kangaroo, with a sheath of stone on its back, kind of like an armadillo, and a club-like tail on its rear. It also had short stubby arms with wickedly long talons built for digging out stone and flesh and a mouth full of far too sharp teeth. Aqua and I shut up, and the wombat spun away as Balin came roaring up behind it. He smashed its nose with his axe and there was the sound of metal on stone as kes of rock spun off in all directions, one narrowly avoiding my thigh. The wombat reared onto its hind legs, rising up to its full three-metre height, and roared back.


    I moved further beneath the wagon and peeked at the quest in the side of my vision.


    <strong>Quest: Roadside Rumble</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Kill the monsters attacking your caravan or drive them off! </i><i></i>


    <i>Monsters Defeated: 1/5 </i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Strength</i>


    Id wanted more Quests, but not like this!!!


    The ground thundered as the monster traded blows with the [Heroic Moment]d Balin. Each rock-hard butt attack was met with an equally fearsome axe strike, or shield smash, and the sound reverberated in the space beneath the wagon. This was what Balin was doing in the dungeon <i>all the time!?</i> Dear Gods!!!


    Pete, where are the other ones? Aqua asked, rubbing her hands worriedly. And do you see Annie?


    I nced at my mental [Minimap], where threerge red dots were currently running amok in the caravan, each encircled by a group of green dots.


    Like I said before, I cant tell whos who on here, but theres one wombat down, one fighting up by Copperpots wagon, the one over there, one down by Berrys and I dont know where the other one is. Its just Balin and


    There was a sh of light followed by Balin screaming, Its blind ya daft ninny!


    - Aishablue here fighting the adult. I think theyre just keeping it upied until everyone else finishes off the small ones. I finished.


    Annie should be at Berrys wagon, I really hope shes okay. Aqua whimpered, and hid behind me as the wombat was beaten back and flung to the ground beside the wagon. It was close enough that we could feel the rancid wet breath <i>whuff </i>out of it.


    Aquas hand was shaking where it held onto my shoulder. I considered that shed once had her entire n killed in front of her in a simr situation, and pulled her close.


    Well be fine. Weve got <i>great</i> guards, and their ambush didnt go off. Its ooookay. Shh, shh, shh. Just keep your [Nothingness] activated and nothing will notice you. I rocked her in my arms like I once had my little Sammy, and she shivered.


    My [Minimap] was the only reason this wasnt going much, <i>much</i>, worse.


    Wed been traveling along the road to Kinshasa, enjoying the fine weather. The air in the more open cave system of Western Crack had a freshness to it, and there was a constant cool breeze as air cycled in from the sunlit crevice faaaar above us. Apparently there was a desert up there, caused by the same impact that''d created Crack.


    So far, the trip had been fairly quiet. Unlike Minnova, it was a bit too dark here to really make out thendscape, and the only sights were fellow travelers and contingents of Highwatch. The everpresent squeak of wheels and whining of goats and Johnsson meant we were beginning toe down with mine fever, and wed all found different ways of staving it off. The next town was only a day away, and we were all looking forward to sleeping in a real bed at the inn.


    Id been chatting with Richter about magic, and trying my hand at practicing some sigils. Erd Magic used mathematical sigils drawn with the casters<i></i>mana to change one Element into another Element by manipting its internal<i></i>mana. The Erdian Elements were Aether, Matter, Nether, and Mana. So, for example, when a caster drew the correct sigil, they could turn the air into stone, thus creating a [Stone Spike] spell. Without [Manasight] I couldnt actually do magic, but that problem would sort itself out soon.


    Our crew was scattered between the various wagons today, Annie having stepped out to chat with Berry, Johnsson was somewhere with Bran, and Aqua and Balin were doing some cleaning in the back. Kirk was at the very front scouting ahead for, as far as I could tell, shits and giggles. I think he was just bored, since hed said we were wallowing slower than a fat crayer, whatever tha heck <i>that</i> meant.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    That was when Id noticed fiverge red dots on my Minimap just off to our right, where a ridge was hiding our line of sight. Id blinked at them a few times, wondering what the heck they were. Most of the dots on my minimap were either blue for items, or green for people and animals (whenever I bothered to turn those settings on). Id only seen red once before, when wed been attacked by gnomish ninjas, but these dots were <i>huge</i>!


    Itd only taken me a second; I was never really into video games, I preferred movies and music, but Id yed enough to know what I was looking at.


    My shout went up as a few other voices began to warn about [Dangersense] or [Sense Ambush] going off. MONSTERS UP ON THAT RIDGE TO OUR RIGHT!!! FIVE BIG ONES!!!


    Team Brightstar had reacted the fastest, gathering into a single unit and heading towards the ridge as Balin hit them all with a [Rally].


    So, when the family of wombats, two the size of vans, and three the size of cars, had leapt over the ridge, they were immediately stopped in their tracks. The small ones had quickly burrowed into the ground - far too rapidly - and disappeared from sight. Id been able to follow where they were headed with the [Minimap] - one to each of thergest wagons - and notified the party. Starshine and the ck-leather-bdsm-armor outfitted [Priest] Raysdotter had split away to warn everyone while the rest of the party battled what had to be the adults.


    One of those adults nowy dead on the ridge, and the other was currently trying to use my brother as a chew toy.


    The smaller wombats were doing hit and run attacks, burrowing up beneathrge groups and attempting to drag people down as they surfaced. Thus far they hadnt been sessful due to abination of [Sense Ambush] and [Dangersense] between the various guards and adventurers. If we didnt have so many good fighters I didnt even want to think about it.


    Suddenly, another red dot appeared directly beneath us, as the remaining young wombat entered the sphere of my [Minimap]. It was directly beneath us.


    Richter! I said, keeping my voice level. Itsing up!


    We are still da loudest noise! Richter muttered back, as the adult wombat was flung into the wagon again. The ground bucked beneath us as the wheels rocked violently back and forth.


    Not my fault! Are you ready to test our n? I pointed at a small keg ofmp oil beside me. Id snuck into the wagon and tossed it down a few minutes before. It was integral to an attack wed cooked up. The little guy fights back!


    Aye, lets do it!


    I gently shook Aqua and held her chin until she was looking me in the eye. Her pupils were spinning in obvious terror. Aqua. AQUA. Listen, I need you to run out from under the wagon when I say NOW. Nod if you understand.


    Aqua eyes steadied. She nodded mutely, and began crawling to the edge of the wagon.


    Richter had a book open in one hand, and was desperately copying a spell sigil out of it. His brand-spanking new wand, a golden ss affair with a glowing red stone at the tip, spun through the air, leaving a line of concentrated Mana that even my non-Blessed eyes could see.


    I grabbed a small keg ofmp oil from beside me, and muttered. Castor oil is a drink. Fish oil is a drink. Lamp oil can <i>totally</i> be a drink. All liquids are technically drinkable. If Bud Light can be a drink, so canmp oil. [Bottomless Barrel].


    I felt the Ability activate and internally cheered. [Bottomless Barrel] specified that it only worked on a non-magical <i>drink</i>, but if there was one thing thatd been driven home by now, it was that intent mattered for Abilities. And itd worked! Hah!


    The smaller red dot had stopped directly beneath us. My [Minimap] wasnt capable of showing height, so this was going to be a near thing. I thumped the keg on the ground to try and guide the monster.


    Waaait, for it. Waaaaaait for it Using the Goldstone warhammer that Jermiah had lent me I smashed the top off the barrel, and held it at the ready. As the pebbles beside me began to rattle from the baby behemoth beginning to breach, I shouted. NOW!


    Aqua, Richter, and I jumped out from beneath the wagon, legs pumping, just as the soil erupted upwards. The wombat emerged ws first, and its wicked talons sunk into the underside of the wagon, spearing right through the wood. It roared and struggled for a moment, stuck, before it tore free, sniffed around blindly, then dove back underground.


    But not before Id dropped a bottomless barrel of highly mmable oil down the shaft itd made.


    10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3. 2. 1. That should be enough oil, do it. I muttered, keeping an eye on the red dot. It hadnt strayed far, and was probablying around for another pass. From Richters wand a head-size bead of fire leapt out and down into the shaft.


    A secondter there was a WHOMP, and ck smoke and mes erupted from the hole beneath the wagon. They were followed by a terrible screeching sound.


    Ooooh, I hope that doesnt catch. I groaned, but thankfully the mes quickly died down, leaving a plume of ck smoke and scorched wood.


    The red dot didn''t disappear from directly beneath us though, and I frowned. From the horrible soundsing from the hole, we had to have bady hurt it, so where -


    The ground beneath me jumped again, and I barely had time to push Aqua away and activate [Flesh of Stone] before a charred set of jaws mped around my leg.


    I was treated to a terrifying couple breaths of ckness. I watched my [Minimap], praying that my stoneified body wasnt getting dragged underground into a fiery hell.


    Then, the red dot winked out, and the world snapped back into focus along with a sharp pain in my ankle. I was halfway underground, and RIchter and Aqua had each grabbed an arm and were holding on tight. I could feel the wet-stickiness of the wombats saliva on my leg, and I kicked its teeth free from my armored boot. I was incredibly lucky the tunnel wasnt more vertical, or its dead weight wouldve been enough to drag me down.


    Aqua and Richter pulled me out of the hole, and we stared at each other in shock.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Updated: Roadside Rumble</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Monsters Defeated: 2/5</i>


    Then Richter gave a bark ofughter, and I joined in a momentter. Relief poured out of us in waves of giggles. A sharp tooth the size of my fist was stuck into my boot, where itd lodged into my armored sock.


    A dwarf never left home without armored socks.


    I cant believe that worked! I wiped away a tear.


    Me neitha. Richter chuckled.


    Down the road behind us, Berrys Ability boosted voice suddenly broke over thendscape. She was singing the words to Alicia Keyss Girl on Fire.


    Richters mouth dropped agape at something only he could see, and a momentter ming meteors began to rain down from the empty ck sky.


    Showoff I muttered.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Roadside Rumble</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Are you really going to let other Chosen show you up like that? </i>


    <i>Gained 0.2 Strength! Your new strength is 16.6!</i>


    I am <i>absolutely </i>shaving you while you sleep tonight, Pete. Aqua sniffed.


    Not. <i>my</i>. FAULT!

 Book 3: Chapter 5: What’s in Balin’s Bag?

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 5: What''s in Balin''s Bag?</h4>


    You know I was only kidding about ming you for the attack, Pete. Aqua whined.


    Thats not how it felt to me! Two guards got really hurt, and Whistlemops goat got eaten. And I feel at least <i>partially</i> responsible for it now. I grumped. Which was partially true, one of the guards had a broken arm, and the other a burnt-off beard from Berrys ming meteors. The goat was thankfully found only slightly worse the wear in the stonebutt wombats stomach.


    Aqua gave me a long stare. You know I can sense the truth AND your emotions.


    I rolled my eyes. That is <i>incredibly</i> boring.


    Annie cleared her throat. If you two are done flirting, were all curious what Balin brought you.


    We werent flirting! Aqua and I shouted together.


    Annie just raised her eyebrows and the rest of the crewughed at our embarrassed defense. We were all gathered in the wagon for another evenings rest, including Bran and Opal, although they seemed to be too busy snuggling to pay much attention. The one exception was Malt, who had first watch.


    That was on purpose, since I was nning on discussing more Earth stuff.


    Just to make sure though. Richter, can you scan formstones or something else Malt could be listening with?


    Sure, Pete. Richter looked around the room with his [Manasense] enhanced eyes, and eventually dered us clean. I wasnt expecting anything, but the closer we got to Kinshasa, the more nervous I became.


    ckbeard had been an idiot, and even <i>hed</i> slipped me a tracker on a business card at the first opportunity. The capital was giving off real nobles-and-their-powergames vibes from Game of Thrones, and I wanted to get into proper habits before we arrived.


    I pulled open therge leather bag Balin had given me and began rooting through it. I pulled out several variations of grass, a big mass of poofy white stuff that looked like fur, a couple roots, some nicely wrapped bits that I assumed were organs from a beastie or two, some more roots, and an antler.


    I turned to my brother and pointed at the pile of greenery. Alright, Balin. Youve been bugging me about looking at these all week. I finally have time, so give us the run down.


    Aye, but some of it is gonna be a bit <i>ripe</i> by now, Pete. He eyed a few of the wax-wrapped bundles. You may not want ta open them.


    I shrugged. Thats fine. Im just nning on running them through my [Minimap] anyways.


    How does that Ability work, anyways? Kirk asked. A miniature map? It saved us during the stoneskin wombat attack for sure, and it sounds amazing.


    Oooh, yeah, of everyone youd probably really appreciate it the most! I have a radar, erm, a map that I can always see in the corner of my mind. Its not over my vision per-se, its more like an extra sense. I have a list of filters that I can set, and anything Ive activated shows up on the minimap as a dot. Items are blue, people are green, and monsters or stuff thats trying to kill me are red. The range is about 20 meters, but thats more than good enough for most stuff. Anything that Ive used as an ingredient can be put into the filter, but I cant differentiate between them - theyre all just dots. Im hoping that itll evolve to give me that functionalityter. Oh, speaking of which! Aqua, give me your hand.


    Aqua held out her hand unthinkingly. Why?


    I need some blood.


    She yanked her hand back, cupping it protectively. WHAT!?


    I sighed. Its not for anything weird, I just need to make some tea with it.


    Johnsson coughed. Thats a bit weird, Pete.


    There was a murmur of general agreement.


    I looked at everyone in faux betrayal, then grinned. I really do need some blood from everyone. I was able to prove that if I use a <i>specific</i> persons blood in a recipe, I can add them to my filter. Ill be able to find any of you if youre nearby, which may or may not be useful in the future.


    Balin interrupted excitedly. Oh, I have [Party Finder] now too! It does somethin simr. Tells me tha direction and distance to ya. I was thinkin of addin you and Annie, Pete. Dont need yer blood though.


    Annie frowned. That <i>may</i> actually be helpful. Especially if were dealing with more of ckbeards ilk.


    Opal looked crestfallen. You know, not all nobles are like him. I know many who do their best for dwarven society. It can be thankless and heartbreaking work.


    Balin nodded along, a little desperately. Aye! Most of tha nobility are granted it through hard work and provin themselves to tha Greybeards!


    I wasnt too sure about that, but I was willing to let it slide. One example did not an entire section of society make. Well, there was also Opals mother, who was another piece of work. Still, <i>two</i> examples did not an entire section of society make, but it <i>did</i> imply a pattern. The Lord of Minnova had certainly been a cut above the rest.


    Anyways, Ill get everyones bloodter. For now, since I cant tell <i>what</i> Im looking at, just that its there, I have to flick through my filters one at a time. Im going through every ingredient Ive ever used in brewing or cooking and its a lot. Thankfully I dont have to do much more than think about it, so its pretty quick.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the vition.


    Aquas face wrinkled up. So, are we just going to sit and stare at you while you


    Just sit here? Yep. Thats why I figured Balin should exin what all this is in the meantime.


    We all turned to look at Balin, who shrugged. Aye. The poofy stuff there is from the mane of a grasslion. Easier ta kill than a lilyleopard, but they hunt in packs. These four packets are some of tha innards, an eye, and other bits. You can thank Manny fer separating all of it; dunno why hes skilled in butcherin


    We all shuddered at the image of the sprightly and goggled ss-obsessed gnome dissecting a corpse with a fine ss scalpel.


    Tha grass is from the E ndless in, Balin continued, And these buncha bits and tha antler are from some ins deer.


    As Balin gestured to the antler, I jumped to my feet, screaming, HUZZAH!!! Balin, I could kiss you!!!


    Weve been over this Pete, I wont let ya. Me lips are fer Annie only.


    I know, but I want to anyways! You found SORGHUM!!! I held the white fuzzy stuff aloft, and everyone leaned in to look.


    Thats grasslions mane. Balin said offhandily.


    I know it. Bran said. You can boil it and eat it, but its got a weird texture. Cant do much with it that you couldnt do with Erdroot, so its not popr. Plus, ya need to hunt grasslions for it, sooooo


    Yeah, it tastes like couscous, but worse. I cant believe you found it! Do you know where I can get more, Bran?


    Aye. Its not <i>too</i> expensive since not too many want it. Grasslions are mostly prized fer their livers and blood. Tha blood is sweet, and improves tha taste of certain dishes, but Sweet Sap Vine is preferred by most cooks for obvious reasons.


    Oooh, could it be? I swapped my filters around and another set of blue dots appeared on my minimap, one for each grasslion organ. It is! I think the blood is Sorghum Sap! That can be used as an adjunct!


    So what is it? Richter asked.


    No! Dont ask that!! Hell monologue! Aqua hissed.


    But now dat I know its othaworld knowledge I <i>want</i> ta hear it. Richter hissed back.


    Johnsson sniggered. And here we thought he just liked the sound of his own voice.


    My dulcet tones do indeed soothe the savage beast, I said sagely.


    Is that why you and Penelope - Balin began.


    I cut off the inevitable goat-lover joke by answering Richters question. Sorghum is one of several different types of cereals used to craft beer back on Earth. The primary base malts on Earth are barley, wheat, rice, and sorghum. Base malt refers to the main cereal used for the wort, like erdroot as the base malt for True Brew. I havent seen heads nor tails of barley, were all gluten intolerant, and Kirk told me that rice is only really avable in the humannds. I looked back at him for confirmation and he nodded.


    Yep! Its most popr in the southern kingdoms closer to the equator, though Ive seen it on asion up north. I know you can buy small amounts in the human market in Kinshasa, but thats about it.


    Right, I continued, Theres also oats, rye, and corn, though oats and rye are pretty much always used as specialty malts since they make for a pretty awful base malt. A specialty malt is a small amount of cereal added to a base malt, like our dark umber erdroot. Sorghum is a distant fourth when ites to beer making, though thats only in my home of Canada.


    Khan-eh-daa? Opal tried saying the word, but stumbled over the unfamiliar sybles.


    Canada. We use barley almost exclusively, and barley beer snobbery can get just as bad as a Master Brewer with tha Sacred Brew. Other countries have their own preferred cereals fer brewin, though. The countries of Japan and China prefer usin rice, Peru and a few other southern countries use corn, and maize is popr too. But sorghum is the primary base malt of tha continent of Africa. Its the grain down in Aaaaafrica!! Ah, I missed the sweet refrains of Toto. Maybe I could ask Berry if she knew any of their songs.


    Opal held up her hand and a pencil. You do know we dont know what any of those ces are, right Pete? Perhaps a map?


    I shrugged. The ces arent important. What <i>is</i> important is that the Africans were using sorghum to make beer long before they met my people. It has its own history that dates back as far as barley beers. It has a few names, though Chibuku and Umqombothi are the most well known. Its also gluten free!


    Is this Africa ce important, then? As a forerunner in the making of Sacred Brew? Johnsson asked.


    I hesitated. The history of my ancestors and Africa is fraught. Kind of shameful actually. very, apartheid, proxy wars... It would take hours, if not days or years to really exin it all. Among the many things we did, we made it illegal for native Africans to make or sell alcohol, including their traditional brews.


    Johnsson looked horrified. They couldnt brew?? How did they drink!?


    They still did brew, of course, just illegally in secret breweries-sh-pubs called <i>shebeens</i>. My own country once had something simr called <i>speakeasies</i>. Its thanks to them that the traditional methods for making traditional African alcohol wasnt lost, though it probably wasnt all that altruistic.


    Annie had her notepad out and was furiously taking notes. Why do your... <i>Canadan</i> brewers not like sorghum?


    There are a few reasons. It makes for cloudy, yeasty beer, leaves a metallic aftertaste, can be finicky to work with, has a lower alcohol content in general, and can easily pick up certain toxins. HOWEVER, thats only because most <i>Canadian </i>craft brewers are trying to use sorghum to make a <i>barley </i>beer instead of an African <i>sorghum </i>beer. The Sacred Brew is already cloudy, has a low alcohol content, and from what we seen with the poprity of Ruddy Bloodbrew, dwarves <i>like</i> a metallic aftertaste. Plus, sorghum beer is <i>pink!</i>


    Also, it had more tannins and probably wouldnt taste like old potatoes like pure erdroot True Brew. Honestly I wasnt a huge fan of sorghum beer, and it really was a pain to use as a recement for a barley base, but as a specialty malt, or in a pure sorghum beer? It opened up huge new avenues for experimentation!


    I couldnt wait!


    Balin looked confused. Why does pink matter?


    Annie and Aqua got it immediately. Our spokesperson is PINK!


    I coughed. Berrys been very careful not to call herself that. She just <i>likes</i> the colour pink. Anyways, itll make it an easy sell. After Liquid Gold, imagine Raspberrysyrup branded pink beer. Theres a good chance it could get big if she makes the ssh I think she will in Kinshasa.


    Do ya know how ta make it? I thought ya said yer kin dont like usin sorghum, Richter asked.


    Eh, the hardest part will be the malting. I think the first thing Im going to do in Kinshasa is find a malt-house and buy it. Maybe Master Brewer <i>Malt</i> will be able to help with that. Nyuk.


    There were exactly zero chuckles. Just smiles and nods, though Opal frowned. Was that meant to be a joke? Why would he know about malt houses?


    Because he - his name - I forget it. Just keep your ears out for information about malt houses. Any more questions?


    There were a lot more questions, and Opal did eventually get her map.


    I even included New Zend.

 Book 3: Chapter 6: Practicing Abilities

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 6: Practicing Abilities</h4>


    I sighed contentedly as the mining vige of Gemena appeared on the horizon. Finally, thest stop before we hit Kinshasa.


    Do you know what Im going to do now that I got sorghums? I asked offhandedly.


    Annie sighed on the drivers seat beside me. Are you still on about that?


    She had the reins for the day, and wasnt the biggest fan of driving, so I was keeping herpany. Yep, it was aaaall for her sake.


    Getting those sorghums was the best thing to happen to me on Erd since Brans special meat pies. So? I asked again.


    Ugh. Fine. Whatre you going to do now that youve got sorghums?


    Floss more!


    Annie glowered at me. I think Id rather be alone than stuck up here with you.


    A, you love it!


    Again, I love <i>Balin</i>. I <i>tolerate</i> you.


    Ouf.


    Do you have anything we could <i>actually</i> discuss?


    Not really. Almost three weeks cooped up together has dried up that well. We could talk more about beer facts.


    Annie grimaced. Even <i>I </i>am growing weary of beer facts.


    We could discuss tha awful smell startin to permeate the wagon after Kirk-Whites seven dwarves spent three weeks cooped up in it.


    Kirk White?


    And Fighty, Casty, Flirty, Whiney, Bossy, Oldy, and Pete.


    Those are?


    Our names.


    Hah! Whos Flirty? Aqua or Johnsson?


    I grinned. Depends on whos bein Whiney.


    Uh <i>huh</i>. Can you go bother someone else? Annie snapped the reins for emphasis, and up ahead there was aining bleat. Sorry Penelope!


    Nope. Balins walking with his team, Johnssons been keepin with Copperpots guards, Bran and Opal are hanging out in their cart, and Malt keeps fallin asleep whenever we chat.


    Then go spend time with Richter? Werent you learning from him?


    I shook my head. Richter and Aqua are busy researching music magic with Berry. They want a handle on it before she shows everyone at Kinshasa University how to do it. Well, <i>Richter</i>s researching, Aquas probably sitting in a plush chair and fanning herself.


    Gods, I wish I could join her.


    Nope. Youre stuck here with me for the foreseeable future. But dont worry, were almost there! Only four more days to go!


    Not soon enough. Hyah!


    <i>*BAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!*</i> [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] If you continue to gete my sensitive porcine hide with those reins, I swear to the Gods I will EAT YOUR SOCKS!


    Annie winced. Sorry Penelope!


    There was still at least an hour until we made it to the squat buildings in the distance, and we mostly spent it in silence. I quickly grew bored and started cycling through using my Abilities. Using Abilities often enough helped them evolve into better versions depending on usage. So far the only Ability Id evolved was [sh of Insight].


    <strong>[sh of Insight x 2]</strong> -<i> Sometimes all an aspiring [Alchemist] needs to make an experiment seed is the right idea. You gain a sh of insight regarding a subject of your choice.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used twice a day.</i>


    It gave me exactly the knowledge I needed at any given moment using my memories and senses. In the past Id used it to do everything from making split second decisions in battle to remembering the name of the barista that served me coffee every Arday. And Miday. And Barday. Okay, every day of the week, coffee was myfort drink since the beer still sucked.


    The Ability I wanted to evolve most was [Flesh of Stone], but I hated using it out of hand just in case I needed it. But using it this close to our final stop for the night <i>should</i> be safe. Right?


    Dammit, I really needed to stop doing that!


    <strong>[Flesh of Stone]</strong> -<i> ying around with alchemy can be dangerous. You can reflexively turn your flesh into stone for 4 seconds to avoid nasty burns or explosions.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once an hour.</i>


    When I activated [Flesh of Stone], my body turned to stone, making me almost impervious to damage. However, it also caused all my senses to go dark, and it kind of felt like I was floating in an endless void, or one of those neat sensory deprivation float rooms. Id been to one with my wife Caroline once upon a time, and itd been kind of fun for the first fifteen seconds. Thankfully this one onlysted four seconds. I could cancel it early, but I never had.


    My favourite Abilities were of course my brewing and beer based Abilities, of which I had several. Gods, what a crazy thing to say. My BEER based Abilities, hah! They were [Refine Brew], [Check Quality], and [Bottomless Barrel].


    <strong>[Refine Brew]</strong> -<i> You are able to refine and stabilize a container of alchemical liquid with a touch. If the brew contains any unstable magical aethers they will be forced into equilibrium. The brew will be more nutritious and have a longer shelf life. </i>


    <i>You can use this ability once per second.</i>


    <strong>[Check Quality]</strong> -<i> Ensure that nobody ever gets food poisoning from your cooking again. Use this ability on a food or drink item to determine if it is harmful or has gone bad.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once per second.</i>


    <strong>[Bottomless Barrel]</strong> -<i> You can touch a container that contains no more than forty-eight litres of non-magical liquid and grant it a touch of infinity. For the next one minute, any drink you pour out of it does not reduce the liquid level. If the liquid is not poured into an appropriate container or imbibed within the next twenty-four minutes, it disappears.</i>


    <i>You can use this Ability once per hour.</i>


    Obviously [Bottomless Barrel] was amazing, and I couldnt wait to see how it evolved. Maybe it wouldst longer, or let me use it on more bottles at once!


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    I pulled out a bottle of Liquid Gold to use them on then chugged it; no sense in wasting (bad) beer. [Refine Brew] did nothing, but I got more than enough practice with it anyway. I considered offering Annie some, but ording to the Country of Crack Ordinances, Chapter 12, Section 4, Subsection B, even dwarves werent allowed to drink and drive.


    Mybat Abilities, [Basic sh], [Thick Skin], and [Regeneration] were simple enough to practice. I just thwacked Annie in the shoulder and she punched back harder.


    <strong>[Basic sh]</strong> -<i> Your blows grow stronger. Add an additional four strength to an attack with a melee weapon.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once a minute.</i>


    <strong>[Regeneration]</strong> -<i> Your Spark is stronger than others. You slowly heal from all wounds.</i>


    <i>Always active</i>


    <strong>[Thick Skin]</strong> -<i> Sticks and stones may crush your bones but words and swords will never hurt you. Grants an increased resistance to cuts and cutting words. </i>


    <i>Always active.</i>


    I still wasnt sure what cutting words <i>really </i>meant, and wasnt too eager to find out.


    I still had somebour Abilities lying around. I wasnt sure how much use theyd get, though. They were [Power Pick] and [Strength of All: Held].


    <strong>[Strength of All: Held]</strong> -<i> A cksmith is only as good as his tools, and yours are unbreakable. Grants any tools you wield increased durability. </i>


    <i>Always active.</i>


    <strong>[Power Pick]</strong><i> - Swing hard and dig deep, young dwarf! Your next swing with a pick has its Strength increased by 4 and gains a slight area of effect.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once a minute.</i>


    I wasnt sure how MUCH the durability increased, but Id never had a weapon break, so who knew? I thumped the side of the carriage with my bottle to check and it didnt break. At least [Strength of All: Held] was just nice to have in general.


    Finally, I had my general purpose Abilities. [Big Money] [White Lie], [Mental Maths], and [Friend: Gnomes].


    <strong>[Mental Maths]</strong><i> - Math Isn''t hard. Increases Intelligence by 4 for the purposes of mathematical calctions. Lasts for sixteen seconds.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once a minute.</i>


    <strong>[Friend: Gnomes]</strong><i> - You know just what a gnome wants to hear. Increases charisma by 4 while attempting to persuade or socialize with gnomes.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once a minute.</i>


    <strong>[White Lie] </strong><strong></strong><i>Sometimes we lie because the truth would hurt more. You gain a bonus 4 charisma when you tell a lie that is not intended to harm someone. The lie will read as true to abilities that can discern truth and lies.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once per minute.</i>


    <strong>[Big Money] </strong>- <i>You have so much money theres nowhere to keep it all! You may store up to 8,000,000 gold worth of cash in an extra-dimensional space. </i>


    <i>Always Active.</i>


    Four was a popr number for Ability bonuses. At an increase of 4, a Stat was about 1.5 times stronger than before. So my Intelligence was literally half again as good for doing math. That helped with my memory and calction speed, and itd been invaluable while doing taxes with Silverpen.


    [Big Money] had to be <i>literal </i>money, so no gems or jewels, and Id been trying to cheat it by starting up a mary system of exchange of potions and weapons with Copperpot. Thus far either I couldnt cheat the Ability the way I wanted, or I simply wasnt able to internalize potions of healing as money for the purposes of intent.


    To practice [White Lie], Id need to find Whistlemop and tell him he had a great sense of fashion. Rainbow coloured pinstripe suits were just <i>in</i> this Octamillenium. Then hed inevitably tell me where I could buy one, and Id run the calctions on how much it would cost to buy a rainbow suit for everyone on the staff and then how fast Id need to run away.


    Finally, I had a couple special Abilities for being a chosen. One was the otherworldly Minimap, which I was ALWAYS using. And the other was my first Personalised Ability, [Petes Miniature Remembrance].


    <strong>[Petes Miniature Remembrance] </strong>- <i>As an Otherworlder, you have memories of things and ces that have never existed. Homesickness can be just as bad as any illness, and this Ability will help to assuage that pain. Allows you to create a miniature object made primarily of Matter. The object must be a previous Possession of great personal significance to you, and one that you have intimate knowledge of. Once summoned, the object willst for an hour.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once an hour.</i>


    <strong>[Minimap] </strong>- <i>Your spirit has found a new spark! Your mental statistics remain reced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain blessings and milestones! You also gain a minimap to help find your way around this new world. People and monsters as well as majorndmarks will be marked on your minimap. You can also mark crafting ingredients or quests and quest items.</i>


    <i>This ability is always avable.</i>


    [Petes Miniature Remembrance] wasplicated both in concept and execution. I just didnt have many useful tiny items that were important to me that I really had intimate knowledge of. My fav pillow? Couldnt summon it; too big maybe. My favourite kitchen knives? Yes. My favourite brewing tools? Analog <i>yes</i>, digital <i>no</i>. In fact, I hadnt been able to summon a single digital object - not a one. I had some <iints</i> about that, let me tell you!!!


    I concentrated hard and tried for something new. With apleteck of sound or fanfare, a stainless steel stick popped into my palm. It was a fairly standard Leatherman flip-open utility multi-tool, and I knew it like the back of my hand. Itd been my tool for everything from cutting vines to popping corks and bottlecaps for well over a decade. It was one of the expensive ones that you sharpened instead of reced.


    Annie looked over as I began flipping through the tools. Whats that?


    Its a utility knife. Its got a bunch of different little tools and functions.


    Hmmm reminds me of something I saw an [Engineer] carrying once.


    It wouldnt surprise me if Copperpot had something like this.


    Is it good quality?


    You cant tell? I held the tool up for her to examine. It had never broken on me, but that was because it was made before everything started getting cheaper and more fragile.


    Annie raised an eyebrow quizzically Why would I be able to tell the quality?


    Because yer a dwarf?


    Thats nonsense. What does being a dwarf have to do with knowing the quality of a tool at a nce?


    Huh, good question. Oh! Were here!


    And we had indeed pulled into the mining vige while I was distracted.


    And by vige, I meant a half dozen stone huts on the road with one of the enormous floating light balloons hovering a few hundred meters above it. The houses were short and squat things with no real adornments, or people for that matter. There was a space just outside of town for our wagons, and a rather rank stable for the unigoats. Penelope nosed at it, then pulled away shaking her head.


    Where is everyone? I asked, looking around.


    Annie gave me the <i>look</i>. In the vige, obviously.


    What?


    Annie pointed at one of the stone huts. In the <i>vige</i>.


    It took me a moment, but I got it eventually. Its underground? The <i>whole vige</i>!? Id seen a lot of houses in Minnova that were underground, but an <i>entire vige!?</i> Thest little town wed passed through on the road to Kinshasa hadnt been like that!


    Annie nodded. The viges closer to the capital are older, and in the early days of the country were subject to more frequent monster attacks. Deepcore Dungeon has a lot of burrowing monsters that open up new entrances to the dungeon all around Western Crack. Those stoneskin wombats were a good example. The burrowing monsters are one thing, but the new entrances also give other monsters free rein to roam. The modern Highwatch helps, but youll find more and more dwarven architecture in the old cave style as we get closer to Kinshasa; its more easily defensible if you properly enchant the walls. Wait till you see the Capital!


    Well, lets head on into Gemena! I want to see what a traditional dwarven vige looks like!


    We circled the wagons, took stock of everyone, locked the goats up in the stable, and made our way into the vige of Gemena. I couldnt wait to hit the bar and be disappointed by the local brews!

 Book 3: Chapter 7: The Mining Town of Gemena

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 7: The Mining Town of Gemena</h4>


    After the wonder that was Minnova, I wasnt sure how I felt about Gemena. My first sight of the city thatd been my home for the past year-and-a-bit had been from afar; a sea of houses and miniature figures dancing beneath eldritch purple light. Up close Minnova had been even more impressive, with massive walls and a cacophony of magical sights and sounds, chock full of people and bursting at the seams.


    In Gemena we opened the door of a rather unimpressive stone shack and were met with an unadorned hole in the ground and utilitarian steps. Smooth stone walls lead down into the darkness, and we were forced to pull outmps before descending. The air was dry and dusty with the scents of stone and soil.


    It was a bit cramped in the tunnel, but not as bad as it couldve been. Thankfully only the Goat crew hade down the tunnel, including Malt, Bran, and Opal. The various gnomish contingents were taking their time, wanting to get theirrger caravans fully settled, or in Whistlemops case, getting set up to sell goods.


    After a couple dozen more paces we came upon a massive steel door. Annie approached it and knocked, and a slit opened up halfway up, revealing a pair of beady eyes. Bright light poured out, along with the sounds of chatter and movement.


    Aye? A gruff voice called out.


    Travelers from Minnova to Kinshasa. Annie stated matteroffactly. Therell be another couple groups along shortly. Also, one of us is a peddler and has goods for sale on the roadside.


    Names?


    We went down the line saying our names, and when we were all done the slit slid shut again with a, Wait.


    Time passed in silence for five minutes, I passed it shifting from side to side, but eventually I couldnt take it anymore.


    Whatre they doin? I whispered to Annie.


    They have someone with [Sense Lies] on the other side of that door. Theyre checking our names against known criminals on the bounty board. Annie whispered back.


    What if we have a way around [Sense Lies]?


    Malt cackled from behind us. Theres definitely a [Whisperer] listening in on us, and a mage or [Graviturge] ready to st us if we make one wrong move and Petes discussing a way around [Sense Lies]! This is going to be a fun trip!


    Annie sighed. Not particrly, and unlikely with a group asrge as ours. Youd need the right Title, the right Milestones, and theres no guarantee that the person on the other side there wouldnt have a way of countering your counter. Now shhh.


    My mouth snapped shut. The guards at the entrance to Minnova had been efficient and cordial, so this cautious heavy-handed approach was rubbing me the wrong way. Then again wed <i>just</i> been attacked by roaming monsters, and I knew for a fact that the bounty boards in the Adventurers guild were chock full at all times.


    After another tense few minutes, the door made a grinding noise then swung open silently on well-oiled hinges. The dwarf on the other side actually reminded me a lot of Jack the [Goatboy]. He had the same general <i>look</i> about him, with in leather armor rather than metal, a scruffy beard, and a distrustful squint. He also had that same southern drawl Ide to associate with rural-dwarven. Or rather, that my Ability was <i>tranting</i> as southern drawl.


    Come in all and wee ta Gemena. Im Gloin. Sorry fer tha rough wee, but bandits ave been a problem with all tha travelers headin into Kinshasa. If yer lookin fer an inn weve got a couple, but <i>Diggers Dive</i> in tha eastern tunnels is best, and tha market is to tha south ifn ya need goods.


    The space wed entered was an open cavern about ten meters to a side, containing what was essentially a mini-fortress against the far wall, much like the one wed seen at the Manticores Gullet. Tall crented walls on either side created a perfect kill-zone, and I shuddered at the sight of the wicked ballistae and other machines of murder trained on us. There were about ten other dwarves in the room, each dressed much like Gloin, and they were all watching us like hawks.


    Thank you, Gloin. Annie murmured, her eyes also trained on all the weapons aimed at us. Well be staying for the night, then heading on in the morning.


    Gloin waved us on, but not before one of the other dwarves pointed at Johnssons Thirsty Goat branded hauberk and shouted, Oy! I recognize that symbol! Are you lot with tha Thirsty Goat?


    We all turned to look at him in shock as Johnsson replied, Aye!


    I know that! Oy! You lot! These are tha winnin Brewers from Minnova!


    Whazzat? Another dwarf asked, peering down at us.


    They made the Ass-ster that Innkeeper Rosie has been makin hell about, and that Barber Brew tha Highwatch has been drinkin!


    Barista Brew ya idjit! Gloin shouted, then turned a wide smile back on us. Oy! Youre that crew! Me cousin says yer brew is a life saver on them thar long marches!


    You know us? I hazarded.


    Aye! Tha peddlers have been passin through here bringin yer brews to Kinshasa! Right expensive, but somethin special! Most fun weve had in months, aint that right yall?


    The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted from the edge of hostile to downright cordial as weapons were stashed, ballistae were raised, and several more scruffy nerf-herders descended to shake our hands and mingle.


    We were roundly introduced to a multitude of names that my handy higher intelligence was more than capable of remembering. Yep, thats my story and Im sticking to it. Then there were the questions about Ass-ster and how and why wed thought to change the Sacred Brew. The attitude here was quite different from in Minnova, and I found myself describing our ideas for brewing in as much detail as I could without Annie or Maltining. One of the guards even whispered to me that he was practicing brewing some of his own batch of Sacred Brew using a bootleg recipe. I told <i>him</i> toe find meter in the inn. Both so I could check the safety of his brew, and to give him some tips.


    If youe across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Gloin decided he was going to <i>personally</i> escort the neers to the inn, and give us a tour at the same time.


    Its different from Minnova, isn''t it. Malt said as we began the trek through the eastern tunnels. Do you like it?


    I dunno what yer talkin about. I replied innocently.


    He reached over and poked me in the side. You know damn well. Look at you, grinnin from ear to ear. This is what you really wanted, wasnt it? Every dwarf brewing their own brews. Upending thousands of years of [Brewer] tradition.


    I shrugged. The beer yearns to be free. The tyranny of the Brewers Guilds cannotst forever!


    Malt sped his hand to his heart. And here you were fighting so hard to get into that self-same guild! What, are you a [Whisperer] now? You can talk to tha brew? Know its wants and needs? No wonder youve got all these new brews! And here I thought you were simply a brewing prodigy!


    Hah! Wait, can a [Whisperer] actually do that?


    Why would I know? Im just a tyrannical guild leader.


    Bah! I know you like it too! You never struck me as the type to likecency or stagnation. And the Sacred Brew <i>has</i> stagnated. Didja not see that at the contest? Rudds Red Rage Ale? Scented Ale? The desire for innovation is already there, it just needed a chance!


    Malt hung his head, and for the first time on this trip he really looked his age. Aye but its hard, Brewer Peter. Dwarves thatst as long as I have usually dont take many chances. They follow the same ruts until theyre worn into safe grooves. And Kinshasa will be <i>worse</i>. Theyve had more time than any of us to dig their holes.


    I grinned. Thats why we have you along isnt it? To run interference?


    Malt gave me a horrified expression. I came to help you! Youre nning to throw me to tha shalesharks?


    Now it was my turn to be horrified. The <i>WHAT</i>!?


    You dont know them? Nasty maw full of sharp shale teeth? Swim the stoney shores of Deepcore? Theyre quite famous.


    I listened in horrified fascination as Malt began describing the many ways a school of enormous sharks with scales made of lead and maws full of jagged shale could eviscerate a dwarf. It made for a lovely backdrop as we walked the halls of Gemena.


    Because thats what Gemena really was, a bunch of halls. The best way to describe it would be an enormous space station like deep-space nine but underground and full of short hairy pungent alcoholics. On that note, maybe an anime convention would be a more aptparison. There were corridors that met other corridors, each with signs in clear dwarven script pointing out directions. The air down here felt stale and dry, with a fairly consistent draft.


    One piece of odd architecture that stood out were the small, waist height holes in the walls of all the corridors. They were just big enough for a dwarf to duck into, and were spaced at even intervals. Maybe they were designed to holdmps? Many of them did indeed holdnterns, just enough so that we could see without tripping over each other..


    Sometimes a corridor would open up to arger space simr to an atrium in a mall, with two or three floors of open walkways. Everywhere we looked there was a general bustle, but rather than gnomes, cats, dwarves, golems, cats, unigoats, and more cats, it was all dwarves. Most of them were dressed as miners, with the same hardhat and solstonebo Id gotten used to back in the day.


    They gave us curious looks as they passed, covered in dust and lugging pickaxes or other equipment. They tracked mud everywhere, and just as I was beginning to wonder how they kept the tunnels so clean, Gloin called for a halt.


    Cleaning golem, give it some space. He pointed out arge brass automata up ahead. It took up nearly the entire tunnel and was slowly advancing on us, a whirring mop and other cleaning paraphernalia whirling about its boxy body. He then ducked into one of the holes in the wall and gestured for us to do the same.


    It was a tight fit, but not as tight as it mustve been for poor Richter, whose grunting and swearing was soon drowned out as the whizzing mops of doom trundled past us.


    As soon as I could hear anything I called out, You okay Richter?


    Soaked me whole front! AHHH!! ME BOOKS!!


    Sorry fer that youngin, you cany it ta dry at the Diggers Dive. Were almost there! Gloin pointed ahead, to where the tunnel was once again opening to an atrium.


    This time as we walked into the open space the air felt fresher, and we could see something other than dwarves in mining equipment. A contingent of Highwatch was settled at some tables in front of a literal hole-in-the-wall with a sign over it that read <i>Diggers Dive </i>and a set of swinging doors. I even spotted a couple gnomes chatting with well-armoured mercenaries, and a trio of unarmored silken-suited fops that I immediately pegged as nobility. They were drunk off their rocker and chatting up a bevy of giggling dwarfesses while their te-armoured guards looked simultaneously threatening and decorative.


    Behind me, Aqua snorted.


    Gloin pointed at the doorway. Old Rosies in there. Just head on over and tell her ol Gloin sent ya! Shes got some thorns, but shell treat ya right. Now, ifn youll excuse me, I need ta get back to me post, and send some runners to tell folk theres a [Peddler].


    Hes a [Merchant] now, actually, I pointed out. Just look for the gaudy wagon that says <i>Whistlemops Fineries</i>.


    Even better! Means hell ave good wares! May Lunara bless yer night here in Gemena!


    And with that, Gloin was off, headed back through the winding tunnels to the entrance.


    Well,e on. I want to sleep in a real bed, and rx in front of a fire. Annie squared her shoulders and walked through the swinging doors. I followed a beat after, trailed by the rest of the crew.


    I swung through the doors just in time to dodge a tossed pan. A well-endowed elderly dwarfess with a salt and pepper beard and regent moustache was shouting and throwing kitchen implements at a younger dwarf. She wore a stained apron and studded leather armor, and had a tattoo on her right arm of a rose wrapped around some kind of monster skull. Her voice was deep and had the same deep-south ent Ide to associate with rural Crackian.


    Get that Yearn be-damned paper outta here boy! Ill not be havin you spread that tripe in this here inn!


    But mum!


    NO BUTS! NO SON O MINE WILL BE CAVORTIN WITH THA LIKES O HARMSSON AND HIS SLIMY SILVER-TONGUED [POLITICIANS]!


    The younger dwarf, who was wearing a simr apron and studded leatherbo batted an iingdle out of the air with a cutting board. Theyre workin hard for our own good! Mica says theyre passin through Gemena next week, and I want to join em!!


    Is it toote to find another inn? I whispered to Annie as a pie pan, including pie, sailed past to stter against a wall.


    Annie heaved a sigh. No, but the beds had better be worth it.


    Malt snickered. Depends on what youll be usin em for.


    Annie gave him some side eye that promised murder as an entire chair crashed against the ceiling. Well, lets get this over with. Hello! Are you Innkeeper Rosie?


    And so we were introduced to Rosie, [Innkeeper] of the <i>Diggers Dive</i> and her son, Bando.


    And a high-velocity roast. Name unknown.

 Book 3: Chapter 8: Peter Bread

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 8: Peter Bread</h4>


    Rosie Digger was a lovely dwarfess, once you got to know her. When she realised we were customers, she immediately stopped tossing things at her son and greeted us with open arms and a wide smile. She had a jollyugh that kind of reminded me of Rumbob, and a ribald sense of humour.


    She was running the inn with the support of her husband, Darrel Digger, and their only son Bando. The Diggers Dive wasnt the <i>only </i>inn in the town of Gemena, just one of the best, and it served a steady stream of merchants, nobles, and travelers on the road out from Kinshasa.


    The building, or rather <i>cave</i> was quite cozy, with the warm glow of solstones hanging from the ceiling giving a slight yellow tinge to everything. A smattering of bog-standard dwarven pic-style tables were scattered around the room, with furs and carpetsid strategically to break up the bare stone floor.


    Tapestries hanging on all the walls helped capture the heat of a roaring hearth in one corner of the room, and leant a ssh of colour to the space. A series of tunnels lead off from the main room to where the rooms were, their entrances covered with simple hanging fabric.


    A wooden bar on one end of the room was reminiscent of our dear Thirsty Goat,plete with bottles on the shelves andndscape paintings. A simr serving window led to a small but well-appointed kitchen. One difference from the Goat was a massive battle-pick hanging on the wall, and the other was that instead of a blonde moody maiden behind the bar, there was a grey matron mommy.


    It was incredibly rustic, but at the same time quite homey. I loved it.


    Rosie had been weing, then downright <i>cordial</i> when shed learned we were the Thirsty Goat. Shed pointed to some kegs of ass-ster and bottles of barista brew and liquid gold behind the bar, and dered our <i>special brews</i> a hit amongst the miners and adventurers alike.


    Then shed sent Bando to take our bags to our rooms, and sat us down for an inn-cooked meal.


    Heres yer hen, hon. Rosie said, pushing me a te of grilled chicken covered in spices and heaped high with mashed erdroot. The faint green sheen to the erdroot spoke of the stealth vegetablesmon in dwarven cuisine. It was heavier in spices than most dwarven food I was used to, and was actually reminiscent of Brans cooking.


    Thankee Innkeeper. I said, wiping some drool from the side of my lips. It smelled <i>delicious</i>, and after several weeks of mostly travel fare I couldnt wait to eat it.


    Just Rosie is fine, hon. Rosie pped me on the back andughed, her bosom heaving with every guffaw. Hoh hoh! I wouldnt ave be an [Inkeeper] if I knew it would make everyone so Yearn-durned <i>respectful</i>! She had the same southern twang as the rest of the dwarves wed met in Gemena, and it somehow made her even easier to talk to.


    But, its quite a feat! Annie protested. Even in Minnova we didnt have too many actual Specialised [Innkeepers]!


    Whats it Specialised from? I asked,dling a bite into my mouth. I closed my eyes as I chewed, letting the taste of pepper and rosemary roll over my tongue.


    Ya wouldnt believe it, but I started out as a [Butler]! Rosie said with anotherugh. Wasnt me Darrel surprised!


    A Butler? Really? I asked, thinking of Whistlemops [Butler] Bimbleberry.


    Rosie winked at me and flexed her muscr bicep. The rose and skull tattoo bulged as she did so. Aye! No better Title fer service ya know!


    Except a [Courier] of course! Kirk said around a simr mouthful of chicken.


    Rosie whipped a towel off her apron and snapped it in his direction. Now dont you give me that lip! We get more than a few giants through these parts, and Im not afraid ta tell you whats what!


    I pounded the table. Yeah, you pay some respect to our Innkeeper! Just because youre eating some bird doesnt mean you can have a fowl mouth, Kirk!


    Kirk gave me a betrayed look, and Annie snorted, but everyone else was too busy eating their delicious food to give us any mind.


    Rosie chortled and pounded me on the back again. Hoh! Good oned! Now eat up and put some meat on those bones. Yer wastin away, just look atcha! At least <i>some</i> of you are eatin properly! She gave Richter an appreciative look, and the buff dwarf buried himself deeper into his chicken. Whos even feedin you lot? I woulda thought celebrities like you woulda been eatin better!


    That would be me came a voice that could have frozen hell. Bran was neatly using a fork and knife, unlike a few others that were digging in with their hands. He raised a small bite of chicken to his lips and chewed it thoughtfully.


    Rosie nted her hands on her hips. Oh? Is that so? And how do ya find that taste of real cookin? Me Darrels got his Blessin from Barck fer his recipes!


    Bran looked down at the te. Good use of spices, and the meat was cooked properly.


    Rosie smiled broadly. Why thankee very much!


    But, Bran continued, the erdroot could use more salt, and I would mix in cabbage instead of dungeon greens. Its passable, but I wouldnt put it on our menu. He ndly took another bite and chewed slowly. Beside him, Opal hid a snort.


    Rosies eyes narrowed, and all our eyes moved to a very obviously ced hole in one wall made for tossing. But instead of trying to maneuver Bran through it like a certain roast from earlier, she gave a wicked grin.


    You a cook or some at? You think you can cook better than me Darrel an me?


    Dont think. Bran shed her an equally wicked smile. Know.


    Rosie crossed her arms menacingly. Fine then. Yer gonna talk down to our cookin? Then the <i>Digger</i>s <i>Dive</i> calls out tha <i>Thirsty Goat</i> to a Feud!


    Annie silently groaned something about, not again.


    Bran looked at me for approval and I rolled my eyes and shrugged. Wed won our first Feud, and Bran had literally proved himself the best chef in one of the biggest cities in Crack. We could handle a tiny backcountry inn. Wait, wait, I didnt mean that! Dear Gods, that habit had to <i>stop</i>!!!


    Bran thunked his fork into the chicken, spearing it to his te. By the Nation of Crack Ordinances Ver. 1130, Chapter 1, Section 4, Subsection 24, the Thirsty Goat epts your Feud. Whats the Challenge?


    Ifn we wins, youll send us a months supply of Thirsty Goat Ale once yer all set up in Kinshasa.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any urrences.


    And if we win our stay is free whenever we stop here. Includin today, Bran countered.


    And ya have to tell me Darrel that his cookin is better than yers.


    Bah. Fine.


    Alrighty, then. Whatcha want ta do fer it?


    Feuds over cookin, so well make that the Contest. The judges can be those nobles we saw out there. Theyll be pickiest. Well cook somethin none of us have ever cooked before, and see who does it best.


    Agreed. Rosie spat on her beard and held it out. Bran did the same.


    Our beards are joined, our words are one.


    There was a beat for everyone to roar their approval, but the only sound was munching and chewing. At the other end of the table Richter gave a halfhearted p.


    Honestly, the chicken really was kinda tasty.


    I dont see why Ive been roped into this. I grumped, as Bran beganying out his knives in the kitchen.


    Because yer the only one who can simply make up a recipe neither of us know.


    Well, I guess thats true. You do realize that the cost of the beer is going toe out of <i>your</i> pay if we lose.


    Bran smirked. Section 5


    Ibed my memory and swore. Since the Feud had been with the Goat, and Id given tacit permission,<i> the Goat </i>was on the hook. ARGH! DWARVES! Youd better not lose!


    Beside us, Darrel was watching with an amused expression. He was a <i>bit </i>younger than his wife, which meant he was <i>only</i> 400 odd years old. He had one of the shortest beards and hairstyles Id ever seen on a dwarf, with a fairly standard modern short cut. What stood out was the pure white streaks he had running from the corners of his mouth down to under his chin, and some more at his temple. Standing against his shock ck beard it made him look downright sinister, like a middle-aged Count Dooku. He was wearing a somewhat dirty apron, and the rest of the kitchen matched. There was a thin patina of grease on just about every surface, and I frowned as I looked around.


    It was fairly bog-standard dwarven cleanliness though. Dwarves had a naturally higher resistance to piddly things like food poisoning, and didnt like wasting time on dusting or cleaning.


    There were some exceptions of course, like Opal and other Doctors, and I suspected that Bran had picked up his own cleaning kick from her.


    Darrel spoke up as Bran finishedying out all his knives. He had a surprisingly high tenor, with the same ent as the rest of the Diggers. Well Artisan Bran, I heard what you said. You think cabbage would work better than the greens?


    Bran nodded. Aye, with the spices you chose for the chicken. Cabbage also adds some vour to the Erdroot without overpowering it.


    Darrel bit his lip and nodded. Aye. I could see that. Maybe add some lemon too, ta really bring out tha chicken.


    Bran hesitated for a beat, then nodded. Aye, lemon would be good. You do know yer stuff.


    Darrelughed. Hah! Im just good because we need me ta be! Me Rosie wouldnt be able ta throw herself inta her innkeepin ifn I werent here cookin. Swhy Im still only Blessed. Im fine with it though, and Ive gotten real good these past few centuries.


    Darrel turned and looked me up and down.


    So yer tha Brewer Pete I heard tell of from some o tha [Peddlers]?


    Well, that could be good or bad. My name is certainly Pete, and I am indeed a [Brewer], but I cant guarantee they were talkin bout me, I hedged.


    HAH! Yep it were you. So youve got some recipe fer us?


    Yep. I reached into my pocket and activated [Petes Miniature Remembrance] silently, then pulled a small notebook out. Were going to make some <i>me</i> bread!


    Bran and Darrel both gave me incredulous nces. Some what?


    Peter bread! Its a Pain In The Ass, so its perfect!


    Iid out the dwarven transcribed recipe in front of the two chefs and they looked it over, confusion evident on their faces.


    Bran was the first to speak. Its bread? Just t bread?


    Yep! I love making bread. Its the beer of the baking world. Take yeast, add some grains and sugars, let it react for a bit, and <i>bam!</i> Deliciousness! Id made some small changes, recing white flour with Erdroot flour and Olive Oil with vine oil for example, but it should still make some tasty pitas.


    I hoped.


    Darrel hrmd. Says well need some yeast. I cook me own bread someat, but mostly get it from tha baker. Ill send Bando ta get us some from Baker Robert. OY, BOY!


    Bandos head suddenly appeared, sticking in through the service window. What is it pa?


    Go get me some yeast from Baker Robert, but dont be bbin about this Feud, I donnae want tha whole town turnin out.


    Gotcha pa, Bando said and disappeared again.


    Then Ill get tha oven heated up. Well need ta take turns, methinks, Darrel huffed. Do ya want ta go first or second?


    Ill go first, Bran said, reading over the recipe again. That way you can see how its done.


    Darrel barked augh. Haw! I kin see how ya set off me Rosie!


    While we waited, Darrel and Bran chatted about chef things, and were soonughing uproariously at something only they understood.


    Bando arrived with the yeast a few minutester, sweating profusely, and Bran immediately got to work.


    <strong>Peter Bread</strong><strong></strong>


    3 cups of Erdroot Flour


    1 cup of warm water


    1 teaspoon of salt


    2 tsp bakers yeast


    tsp sugar


    cup minced garlic


    2 tbsp Greentree vine oil


    Mix a half cup of flour with the water and stir in the yeast and sugarPut the mixing bowl in a warm ce and wait until it starts bubbling.Add the garlic, vine oil, and 2 cups of flour. Stir until fully mixed and sticky.Next you <i>knead to </i>dust the counter with flour. Then knead the dough until its smooth. Cover the dough and go drink a beer for ten minutes. Knead again. Make sure the dough is a little moist, but not wet. Add more flour if needed, but dont let it be dry.Coat a clean bowl with more vine oil and put the dough in. Cover fully and let sit for an hour in a warm environment. Go do the dishes you filthy animal.The dough should rise to double the size. Pop it, and split the dough into nine equal balls. Cover them with a towel and let them sit for a quarter hour. Roll the dough into circles that are about a centimeter thick.Heat your cast iron pan on the oven and set to medium heat. Drizzle with vine oil theny out one pita at a time. When bubbles form, flip to the other side. Cook for one minute, then flip and cook for one more.


    The chefs worked feverishly for the first while, mixing and carefully reading the instructions. When they reached the one hour break though, we moved out into the tavern to chat.


    Johnsson and Richter had disappeared to our rooms at some point, Kirk and Malt were kicked up in front of the fire. and Annie, Aqua, Opal, and Rosie were chatting at one of the tables. They looked up when we walked in, looking <i>much</i> too happy given that a Feud was going on.


    We men-dwarf-whatever-folk gave them wary looks then sat in a booth and drank from their small supply of Thirsty Goat liquid gold bottles. Ah, bonding. Wait, wasnt this a fight?


    Then it was back to the kitchen for baking. Bran managed to turn out nine perfect pita breads, each smelling strongly of oil and salt and garlic. I felt my mouth watering at the scent. Memories shed by of munching crispy cmari with tzatziki and slices of lemon on the patio with Sammy and Caroline. Basking in the sunlight while a balmy breeze came in from Okanaganke. With a pint of Mythosger, of course!


    Darrel burned his first try, but managed to get eight perfect golden orbs for his following attempts.


    Darrel called for Bando when he was done, Oy, boy! Get in ere and bring these tes out ta tha nobs. Tell em its on tha house, but theys needin ta tell us which of tha two tes tasted best. Got it?


    Aye, pa.


    And then it was all over except for the verdict.

 Book 3: Chapter 9: Elemental, my dear Bando

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 9: Elemental, my dear Bando</h4>


    Everyone stared at Bando incredulously, then spoke in unison. A TIE!?


    Bandoughed darkly. Called em both terrible. Oh, but also, theys wantin more.


    There was a chorus of groans and cursing.


    Swhat ya get fer usin a buncha elfin nobs. Bando sneered.


    Rosie shook her finger at him. Dont you be speakin ill o our guests, Bando Digger!


    Bah! Bando muttered a few more choice expletives then stalked off in a teenage funk.


    In the meantime I was feverishly trying to remember what happened with a Feud in the case of a tie. As best I could recall, ording to Nation of Crack Ordinances Ver. 1130, Chapter 1, Section 4, Subsection 28, Feuds kept going until someone won. Each time, the party that got to set the Contest switched, so technically the Diggers got to pick the next task.


    They could <i>also</i> choose to end the Feud.


    The eyes of everyone turned to Darrel and Bran. The two chefs looked miffed at the description of their hard work, so we waited in silence while they decided what to do.


    Then they locked eyes, rolled them simultaneously and beganughing.


    Darrel wiped away tears. Its always tha same with em. Theyre just hankerin fer more free food. Nobs got the deepest pockets and the thinnest beards.


    Bran nodded. We had a few of em in the Goat during the contests. They could be a right pain. Well need to tell you about ckbeard.


    So, the Feud? Annie hazarded.


    Imma thinkin its yer win. Darrel said. I burned one, but you made em all perfect. Ifn theyre thinkin its a tie, then thats our next judge.


    Bran shook his head. The only true judge of food is the customer. The customers said its a tie, so its a tie.


    Well, mighty gracious of ya. Well end the Feud there on a tie then. Darrel smiled, then went ramrod straight.


    I groaned. Here we go.


    Darrel jumped to his feet. I just got a Blessin!!!


    Rosie jumped to her feet as well a momentter. YOU DID!?


    Those of us from the Goat nced around the table. Or rather, everyone nced at <i>me</i>. Some pointedly. Annie looked wistful, likely imagining selling me as Blessing bait again. Dammit! It wasnt my fault the creepy stalker Gods were handing Blessings out like candy to everyone around me!!


    Darrel was staring at a little blue box only he could see. Its its from Aaron. Fer challengin a champion of dwarves to a Feud in his field and me not losin.


    Rosie turned shocked eyes on us. By all o them Bits o tha Gods, what does that mean?


    Opal answered before Bran could, practically preening at hearing Bran described as a champion of the dwarves. Bran here won the regional Octamillenial cooking contest in Minnova. Hes the champion chef of Minnova.


    Rosie looked simultaneously shamefaced and bursting with pride. And I insulted yer cookin. I oughta give ma beard to yall.


    Thats not necessary Rosie. Annie waved her apology off. Congrattions on your Blessing! Youre finally Titled!


    Darrel couldnt even nod, he was so shocked. I never thought


    Aaron and Barck are a good set. Bran said, Its what Ive got. [Artisan] is excellent for a chef.


    Kirk called from where he and Malt were still propped up in front of the fire. You should be an [Oracle]! Youll be able to tell when someone wants a refill on their beer!


    He then held up his empty tankard and waved it pointedly. Rosie snapped her towel in his direction and he grinned back.


    Darrel shook his head. Naw, I didnt be no chef cause I loved cookin. I did it to support ma Rosie. Takin a Title to be a better chef would be a waste. It wouldnt be me.


    He paused and read over more options, and his face slowly grew firm. Yup. That would be it. Rosies been talking bout us needin more hands round tha inn, and I could use summa it myself.


    Rosie smiled. Yer thinkin -


    Aye. Darrel stared at a spot just above the middle of the table and said, [Generate].


    Abruptly, a roughly ten centimeter tall section of the air <i>stepped</i> into existence. That was the best way I could describe it; it looked like a piece of air had pulled itself out of the other air like taffy, and was now standing on the table. A light blue glow suffused the area, outlining a rotund and disproportionate blue humanoid shape. It had a tiny pair of nublike legs with no knees or feet and arge round belly that tapered like a raindrop up to an oversized featureless head. A set of tiny arms that looked identical to its legs just shorter waved merrily up at us.


    You became a [Summoner]! Aqua squeaked, leaning forward. Ive only ever seen elementals at a distance over the Grand Market! Its so cute!


    What can it do? I asked, standing and walking around the table to get a better look at it. I kept my distance though; I distinctly remembered that they could be dangerous.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Darrel chortled. It can do lots! Fetch stuff, make water, oh, and this! His eyes narrowed, and the elemental rose up into the air on a faint breeze then wafted over into the kitchen. An instantter Bandos terrified screaming and the sound of rushing water could be heard.


    Bando emerged from the kitchen looking like a wet cat, and just as angry. Why is there an elemental doin the dishes? And why did it spray me first!? Ma, Pa?


    While Darrel, Rosie, and Bando shared in their happiness, the rest of us split up to our own devices. There would be a Blessing partyter tonight, no doubt, and we could all use some rest first. I settled in front of the fire next to Malt and Kirk and pulled out one of the books Id bought before we left Minnova.


    The Tales of Tea was a memoir about the origins and history of the tea trade in Crack. I was searching through it for mentions and clues of past Chosen Catalysts of the Gods. The Great Game had been ying for many, many years, and following its course could be helpful for my own survival.


    Back in Copperpots house, Id seen a picture of the Pot Familys first Oligarch, Grand Speaker Teapot, and hed had a Union Jack emzoned on his zer. So naturally I was attempting to stalk him through history books, which was significantly more difficult than it had been to find my daughters boyfriends on Snapchat.


    Seriously, they really had to stop posting <i>everything</i> online!


    So far all Id been able to learn was that hed been close to a famous dwarven [Explorer] by the name of Jean. Jean had been the first to map and namerge parts of Crack, including our own Minnova. He was also the one whod named the capital city, though in a more roundabout way. Back in the days when the capital was the only dwarven foothold in the immense caverns, it not the country had been named Crack. Theyd renamed it in Jeans honour after hed died in cktar Dungeon to the East. ording to his diary, hed wanted his bones to beid to rest in the city of Kinshasa, so theyd buried him in the capital and changed the name.


    It was dry reading, but interesting, and I was almost positive Jean was another Chosen.


    A couple hours into my reading there was the sound of a throat being cleared, and I looked up to realise I was nearly thest one left in the Inn. The rest had decamped, leaving Malt passed out in front of the fire and Bando, who was standing next to my chair and looking attentive.


    Aye? I asked.


    Can I get you a drink or somethin?


    Ah, sure. Some tea if you have it, please.


    Tea? You drink that gnomish leaf water?


    Sure, lotsa folks in Minnova do.


    Bando shrugged. Not here. Not too many of em gnomese through Gemena, but we gots some Gnomish Breakfast just fer them.


    While he puttered about the bar preparing my drink, I asked, Do ya mind me askin what you were yellin at yer mum about? I recognised the name Harmsson.


    Id picked up Thad Harmssons little leaflet in Minnova. He was part of a growing movement to reduce the power of the nobility and influence of the Official Greybeards while improving the lot of the average greybeard. And presumably institute a little democracy or whatever the Erdian equivalent was. He was also pushing for more rights for gnomes. He was nning a massive march on the Octamillenial, where they were going to demand that the King sign something he called The Great Charter.


    As a Canadian, I <i>of course</i> had to support anything democratic.


    Bandos eyes sparkled. Oh? Youve heard o Harmsson as far as Minnova? I knew he was on the up and up!


    I wouldnt go that


    Ma friend Mica has been talkin bout joining the march and I want ta go with him! His pa owns tha general store. Cou the bigger ns here in Gemena are too. Were sick o bein treated like tha nobs toys. Theye in here and take our diamonds, then leave us with bare silver. We merchants make tha country run, and we should have some say! Its not the days o wild frontiers no more! City Halls enough, we dont need no Lords to protect us!


    Bando finished setting up the mug and tea then leaned into the kitchen serving window and shouted, Pa! Hot water!


    I watched in interest as a tiny blue elemental floated in from the kitchen. It squeezed its face, like when I made faces at Sammy as a baby, and hot steaming water poured from its lips into the mug. That was either neat, or gross. I tried to figure out which while asking, yer ma doesnt like Harmsson?


    Naw. She thinks hes a lyin snake, but I think he really wants to help. Hes done so much good in Kinshasa already! He helped solve tha problem with tha refugees, and got Kinshasa City Hall ta fix the roads! Hes only a minor Lord, but hes done so much!


    Yaknow, we had a lot of refugees at Minnova too. Whats up with that?


    Bando poured my tea before replying, his voice growing concerned. Lots more monster attacks and Dungeon Breaks right now. Dunno whats goin on, but theyrein out from their regr haunts.


    When Id first arrived in this world, thered been muttering about a Monster Stampede at Greentree Dungeon. That was when the Mana within a dungeon spiked, resulting in a mass creation and exodus of monsters. In the end, beyond an increase in the number of singr Dungeon Breaks, and some inter-dungeon boss changeups, not much hade of it. Could it be rted?


    Is it safe for us to be travelling? We hadnt been told the road was dangerous when we were leaving Minnova!


    Yup, sure. Its only a real problem off the main routes. Its not till ya get to the outskirts, or right near the dungeons that youll see it. The young dwarf came and handed me the mug. I took a deep sniff and closed my eyes with pleasure. While the alcohol in this world was a disappointment, the tea was everything I loved from back home.


    Bando was still standing at my side, shuffling from side to side nervously. Exactly like Sammy when she wanted something, or had been naughty and was about to get caught.


    Yeeees? I hazarded.


    See, Ma dont want me goin with Mica. Shes all distracted cause o Pa tonight, but shell be on me harder than a [Brewer] on a bootlegger startin tomorrow. No offence.


    I smiled at the image. None taken.


    So I was wonderin... ifn you lot could take me with you tomorrow. You seem like nice folk, and Guard Gloin approves of ya. Without tellin ma Ma or Pa, that is. He shuffled nervously from foot to foot.


    I raised an eyebrow. You seem a little young?


    Bando guffawed. Heck naw, Im over one hunnerd! I can take carea myself in Kinshasa. I just needs ta get there.


    DAMN! He was older than me! Age really <i>was</i> just a number around here!


    I considered the bashful boy. One hundred really <i>was</i> old enough in dwarven society for him to be out on his own. At the same time, Rosie had been more than amodating, and I didnt want to get on her bad side when she could easily get our home address from the beer merchants.


    So I made it someone elses problem.


    Youll want to ask Annie. Shes the one in charge of personnel on this trip. Yeah, I hadnt even known Malt wasing with us until thest second. Let <i>her </i>fret over it.


    Bando gave me a look thatbined disappointment with hope. Aight, thankee Brewer.


    He wandered off to find Annie while I drank my tea and wondered what thews were about kidnapping adult children in Crack.


    We had the Blessing Party for Darrel that evening. Even the nobles came and had a wonderful time. Then we slept the sleep of those sleeping with feather beds for the first time in weeks. I didnt think more about my conversation with Bando until the morning.


    And then it was toote.

 Book 3: Chapter 10: Kinshasa

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 10: Kinshasa</h4>


    Breakfast was a deliciousbination of pita bread and goat yogourt with a smattering of sausages and an apple. Apples on Erd tasted a little different, a bit sweeter and a little less tart. They reminded me of G apples with <i>vim</i>. The sausages were a spiced goat affair, and really needed the yogourt.


    Rosie and Darrel were still over the moon, and Darrel was using his elementals for just about anything he could think of. He could summon two of them with the basic [Generate] Ability, and they were constantly whizzing about overhead. Unfortunately, the buggers were awesome at cleaning and carrying and steaming, but not much else. As evidenced by my burnt sausages.


    Im real sorry, like. Darrel said, clinging his apron in his hands. I didnt know they were burnin yer food. I can git you a new one ifn youd prefer.


    I waved my hand and crunched into some crunchy sausage. Eh, its fine. I like it crispy.


    Well, d ya like it. Dont want ta waste food, none.


    Everyone had woken up at roughly the same time, so the inn was full to bursting. The gnomish contingent had trekked down sometimes right before bed, and one of the elementals was currently pushing steaming water out of its mouth-hole into tea cups as fast as it could. Human Pete would have been worried about the cleanliness of elemental mouth water, but dwarf Pete just figured eh.


    Darrel sat on the edge of a pic bench across from me, and stretched mightily. Whenre ya headin out?


    About an hour or so. Were hoping to make Kinshasa by at least the end of the week.


    Well, Luck o Barck to ya! Theres some toughpetition in Kinshasa, but yer brews have been somethin special! They may spit in tha face of tha Sacred Brew, but theyre damn tasty!


    I winced at that.. generous description. How <i>is</i> thepetition?


    Darrel scratched at his beard in thought. Hmmm, youll be wantin ta keep an eye out fer Riverside Brewery. Theyre tha biggest in Kinshasa, and theyre real good. They won tha Kinshasa Octamillenial Brewin Contest. I havent been able ta get any, but I hear its great.


    I pulled out my notebook and wrote down the name. And <i>do </i>people actually like our brews? Aside from tha whole spittin in the face of the Sacred Brew thing. There was a lot of initial opposition in Minnova.


    Phsaw. Gemena may be a bit insr, but were a caravan town; were used ta new things and folk passin through. The miners are all hard bitten, so anything that lightens their life a bit is hunky-dory. Yer Ass-ster was a hit!


    And the rest?


    Hmm yer barista brew sells more as a pick-me-up than a regr drink. Its practically a second potion fer tha Highwatch at this point. Tha ss bottle is an issue though. Lotta them dump it inta their canteens.


    Huh. There was an interesting problem to have. Maybe I would need to institute cans sooner than nned. And tha new brew and liquid gold?


    Aint got yer new brew through. Maybe it didnt take off? Theres a few what swears by liquid gold.


    But overall, everyones fine with it?


    Cou hardliners. Those with [Brewers] in their family, or from bigger ns. The ones that dont like splittin bedrock, ya know? But mostre just happy ta drink after a hard days work, and dont care none where it came from.


    That made me happy to hear. One thing that Id been worried about was that without my (and Berrys) direct influence, our beer would never make it out of Minnova or Kinshasa. Thisid that to rest, and I offered a silent thank you to Drum (wherever he was) for giving me the idea to pitch Barista Brew to the Highwatch. That alone would be enough to carry us far and wide.


    Ill let ya get back to yer eatin. Darrel said, standing and wiping off his apron.


    Thanks Darrel.


    I scooped a creamy heap of yogourt onto a tiny pita and closed my eyes as I chewed. I distinctly <i>did not</i> moan, but it was a near thing. All it really needed was some olives.


    The morning was otherwise uneventful, barring a brew-curious miner who dropped by to get some brewing tips. I left him star-struck with a greatly-simplified copy of my Earth brewing journal. Honestly, any mixture of herbs he used for his bittering agents to make a gruit would be better than what the Sacred Brew <i>actually</i> used, but I still made him promise to check with an alchemist or anyone with an evolved [Check Quality] before drinking it.


    Our caravan began packing as soon as it was fully morning, with light streaming through the Great Crack above us once more. Everyone was bright and chipper, both from a full night''s sleep for the first time in a long time, and from therge supply of barista brew we were carrying.


    Annie stood on top of one of the shacks hiding the entrances to Gemena, and shouted orders down as we moved in new supplies from the general store, hooked goats up to wagons, and followed our startup checklist.


    I made sure to pet Penelope before heading into the wagon. Copperpots caravan guards had volunteered to watch over everyones goods, and had stayed up above while we all partied in the inn overnight. The only thing they had to report was that Penelope had disappeared for twenty minutes sometime halfway through the evening. Id been ready to be incensed, but theyd found herter simply trotting around in the goat pen.


    They must have been blind to miss such a charming creature.


    Whos a good girl? Whos working really hard and deserves a beerter tonight? I murmured, ruffling her ears.


    Penelope leaned her head into the scritches. *Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] Yes, praise me more, peasant!


    This tale has been uwfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    When Annies yelling reached a specific pitch that I recognized from years of the married life, I went to help Richter load thest of our supplies into the rear of our wagon. With that done, and Whistlemop starting to get antsy from the dys, I hopped up the steps.


    And smacked directly into Bando Digger.


    He gave me a brilliant smile, Lookin forward to travelin with ya, pardner!


    Sunnovanannygoat. Annie wasnt supposed to say <i>yes</i>!


    Eight dayster, we finally arrived on a crisp early morning.


    There was a lot that happened over that week. Annie became the queen of a pack of rockhounds. Richter discovered forbidden magic and wiped out an entire town. Johnsson fell in love with a gnomish princess and swore himself to her service. And Kirk was attacked by miniature lilliputians every night before bed.


    Which is to say nothing actually happened at all. I was freaking BORED.


    So by the eighth day, I was overjoyed to see our destination approaching in the distance. It was a sheer cliff face rising all the way up into the darkness above us, and the light spilling out of the crack above us stopped there. What we were looking at was the end of the geographical wonder that was the Great Crack, and while It wasnt visible yet, beneath that cliffy Kinsahsa and its walls!


    Id spent a lot of time the past few days talking to Bando about our new home. He was adamant that it was the most incredible city any of us had ever or would ever see. I seriously doubted that. Id been to Paris and there was <i>no way</i> Kinshasa could disappoint me as <i>incredibly </i>as Paris.


    There was even a term for how much it disappointed people: Paris Syndrome.


    ording to Bando, Kinshasa didnt have one outer wall like Minnova. Instead, it had several rings of walls leading up to the end of the Crack. The original city was contained within the cliff-face itself the White Wall and wound through the Erd much like Gemena. Over the years the ancient dwarven capital had spilled out and filled the space beyond the White Wall. In order to protect all the new housing, walls had been erected. Then the city had spilled out again, and more walls had been built. In total, Kinshasa had 4 walls, plus the White Wall towering behind it.


    A whole mess of the enormous floatingnterns hung in the air, bathing this section of Crack with incandescent light. The White Wall reflected the light in a silver halo that made it look like we were approaching some kind of underground heaven.


    Somewhere deep within the old-city there was a dangerous route to the world above. asionally a merchant or adventurer like Kirk braved the trail, but it was foolhardy at best and deadly at worst.


    I pointed at the incredible sight. The White Wall <i>literally</i> white?


    Bando nodded vigorously. Yep. When tha Gods struck them there dragons into tha ground, it created Crack. It was then that the dragons fires scorched the stones here white.


    I continued to stare wide eyed at the scintiting stone that stretched up and up and <i>up</i>. Huh.


    The number of travelers slowly increased the closer we got to Kinshasa. Side-roads and crossroads and in-roads wound over the barren t rockyndscape, and brought with them new and exciting sights to see.


    There were contingents of the Highwatch with glistening weapons and sharp gazes. They marched solidly forward ignoring everyone else, but were more than pleased to stop when we offered to refill their hip sks of Barista Brew.


    Herds of unigoats bleated and baahed alongside flocks of sheep, while their herders argued over grazing rights. Grazing for <i>what</i> I couldnt tell, but there had to be something green out there somewhere, right?


    Next came carts and wagons belonging to merchant families, some in gaudy gnomish colours, and others emzoned with the n crests of powerful dwarven nobles. They kept to themselves and either let us get ahead or tried to follow closely behind to find safety under our wing.


    Soon adventurers came into view. Those peacocks of Erd, each wearing whatever enchanted gear they could afford in a hodgepodge mess of the functional but unfashionable. I swear I saw a [Berserker] in nothing but a set of hiked up pants and a bowtie. Johnson and I made Balin promise to never, ever, wear anything even remotely simr. He said not to worry, because hed always be in his golden armour, but I had my doubts


    Then the first wall came into view. It was massive, at least twice the height of Minnovas and made of yellow granite. Much like Minnova, the only thing we could see over it were a few bell-towers and plumes of smoke.


    Thats tha Yellow Wall. Bando announced as we all sat squished on the front bench.


    The Yellow Brick Wall? Do we follow, follow, follow it? I asked.


    Nah. Youll get robbed ifn ya aint careful. Tha Yellow Wall is where the poor and desperate are. Outta sight, outta mind fer tha nobs. Bando spat, his loogie spacking onto the ground where it was promptly churned beneath our wheels.


    Whats your n? Aqua asked, giving a nod towards Bando.


    Annie said I could stay until tha Goat is settled in. Ill be ahelpin with unloadin and setup, though nunnova brewery stuff. Bando actually looked nervous for the first time on this trip, likely thinking of what it would mean to be living alone in the big city.


    I still couldnt believe Annie had let us basically steal Bando from his parents. While she and Bando had refused to tell Rosie and Darrel about it before wed left, Id forced her to write a letter that wed sent back with a passing merchant that same day. Ever since the time Jeremiah had spoiled our brew for the Brewers Guild, shed had serious issues with freedom and overbearing parents. I could see why Bandos plight had swayed her, but his family had to be worried sick, and they were good people. Shed acquiesced to the letter, but it looked like we were stuck with him for the near future.


    In some ways though, Bando was actually handy to have along. He taught us all a lot about Kinshasa that Richter couldnt learn from his books, and he knew the ins and outs as a localish. For example, when the Yellow Wall was still far in the distance we reached a huge line for entry to the city. We found out from fellow travelers that it could be days getting in, but Bando had warned us about it ahead of time, and said he knew how to expedite our entry. With a salute he dashed off and was soon lost in the milieu.


    An hourter, he sauntered back alongside a city [Guard] who happily invited The Champions of Minnova! into Kinshasa. We got our wagons rounded up, and were soon passing by the angry gazes of merchants, tourists, and refugees. And by all the Gods, there were a <i>lot </i>of them.


    As we approached the city, makeshift shacks and decrepit tents began to dot thendscape, until we were walking through a miniature shanty town. Moustached children ran about ying hitball while their parents watched us with hungry eyes. It looked like Kinshasa would soon need <i>another</i> wall. It looked strikingly simr to the outside of Minnova,plete with the angry yelling.


    The guards to the city were <i>not</i> Highwatch, and it showed. Our escort was chatty, but spent too much time admiring Aquas beard and not enough checking our cargo. The guards at the special checkpoint we entered were the same. They were just a little less alert, just a little too used to days filled with nothing more terrible than haughty nobles.


    And just like that, we entered through the Yellow Wall and into the outermost district of the Capital of the Dwarves.


    And wouldnt you know it?


    It smelled just like cat piss.


    Friggin felines. THEY WERE EVERYWHERE DOWN HERE.

 Book 3: Chapter 11: The Walls

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 11: The Walls</h4>


    Our guard escort through Yellowall was a cheerful young dwarf by the name of Thwack. We had him riding on the Goat cart with us, and wed moved to the front of the wagon train. Copperpot had protested, but realistically <i>we</i> were the stars of the show here. Muhahahaha!


    Thwack had a red ducktail beard, but no East Crackian ent to go along with it, just the standard Crack brogue. He also had quite a high pitched voice for a dwarf and every time someone called his name I had to hold down an infantile giggle.


    Seriously, who named their child with onomatopoeia? It was like naming a child Pow, Sock, Bam, or just Thud. I could hear it now, some noble mother calling her unfortunately named child for dinner. Oh <i>Thud</i>wick! The roast goat is ready!!!


    Actually, Bam was a pretty sick name. Maybe if I had a little moustached child in the future I could


    No, Pete! Thats the dwarf in you speaking! Bam is a terrible name for a child!


    Bambam. That was much better, and Hanna Barbera approved to boot!


    While Bando had been able to tell us a lot about the city from the perspective of someone whod been there several times (and spent his whole life steeped in their history and culture) it was nothingpared to the knowledge of a true native. Thwack was more than happy to gush about his hometown to the Champions of Minnova, especially when it came with the opportunity to brag about its superiority.


    Our journey to our eventual destination at City Hall began at the gate to Yellowall, which was the name for the collection of districts held within, you guessed it The Yellow Wall. Given the size of the city, it was going to take a good half a day to make it there, which made me very happy about our early arrival.


    The other zones, each held within their own walls were: Greywall, Redwall, ckwall, and Whitewall.


    If Redwall didnt hold a small collection of mice people, I was going to be incredibly disappointed and ask for a refund on this fantasy world.


    Yellowall was not a nice first look at the city, especially since wede in through a non-standard entrance. Apparently the main street was wide and well-cobbled and led straight to the next wall, while our side VIP entrance forced us to take a more roundabout route; hence the [Guard] escort.


    What we saw made me think of old pictures of London, with cramped multi-storey tenement houses and dwarves and gnomes and goats packed everywhere. Everyone and everything had a patina of filth and exhaustion, and I could feel dozens of hostile eyes peeking out from shutters at us. It was wildly alien from what Id gotten used to in Minnova with its general feel of busy bombast.


    The construction here felt pdash, with mixes of different types of stone in a haphazard fashion. Some of the apartments looked like theyd been built in parts, half one year and half the next. It was <i>odd</i> and made something in my dwarven heart ufortable, like I was looking at something full of holes. Trypophobia, thats what it was called.


    Thwack continued to wax poetically while we trudged along a well-cobbled road barelyrge enough for our wagons. People and goats were forced out of our way, and it was clear that only Thwacks presence kept them from cussing us out. Berrys enormous stage-wagon was especially not made for this, and I winced as a set of stone steps gouged the side, leaving a streak of pink paint behind. Her manager, Amethyst, was going to freak. At least there wasnt goatshit everywhere, just the asional whiff of cat pee. There was also a low bass thrumming sound overtop everything, though from what I couldnt tell.


    Thwack pointed past a pair of three-storey apartments, and I could just barely make out a looming behemoth of a building in the distance. If ya look over to tha right, through those two apartments, you can see somerge buildings in the distance. Thats the warehouses and receivin district. The main street through Yellowall passes through it, and were headed that way. Just need ta take another short detour through here.


    Why are the buildings here so tall? I asked, pointing at the apartments. Im used to everything in Minnova bein single-storey.


    Ah thats because of tha dungeon. Thwack said.


    Everyone blinked. Including Bando.


    I think youll need to exin that. Annie murmured.


    Oh, thats right. Minnova has its dungeon outside tha city, right? Well, here in Kinshasa it used ta be simr. The Grey Wall was tha outermost wall about eight thousand years ago. At that time, Deepcore was just a short ways outside, and monster waves would be met at tha wall. Over time, as more and more temporary houses jumped up outside tha wall, mostly fer refugees or immigrants from out East or South, the city spread out to include Deepcore. Yellowwall wasnt made so much to keep monsters out as to keep the monsters IN. Makes it easier ta protect the ouyin farms and livestock.


    I turned to look at another set of apartments, taking in the hodge-podge nature of it. Id found the dpidated architecture quite odd given the dwarven predilection to excellence, but if that wasnt the original design, but rather the result of multiple repairs


    Theyre made to copse Balin whispered. Thats


    Thwack nodded. Aye. Most o tha dangerous monsters in Deepcore can burrow, so the houses are better to be <i>above</i> ground. We dont want a bunch of diremoles hidin in peoples cers. Also makes them easier to repair when they get knocked over by a wave.


    The angry eyes and quiet desperation of those we passed by took on a new ugly weight. These people were <i>bait</i> for the capital. Their lives meant to buy time until the city and the adventurers could deal with threatsing from the dungeon.


    Isnt it dangerous? Aqua whispered, likely thinking the same thing as me.


    Thwack nodded. But most o these folk are either adventurers or hardy folk workin tha Butchers Block or tha mines just south. They know tha drill, and they alle runnin to help when theres a monster wave. They all want to get into Greywall ya see, and the only way is distinguished service, like you lot, or bein a citizen fer two generations in Yellowall. Stampedes can get bad, but there asnt been one in centuries.


    Richter had his notebook out, and his pencil was scratching furiously. Da Butchers Block? He asked.


    Aye, the tanners and ughterhouses are there. Theyre at tha southern gate ta Yellowwall, on tha banks o Darkwater. Local farmers bring their produce and livestock through there sos they dont get stuck in de general mess.


    That name I knew. Darkwater was the river that ran through Kinshasa before heading south-east until it disappeared back under-underground. It ran down from the mountains faaaaar above us, and was what had dug the original route the dwarves took to get into Crack. From what I knew about Earth medieval life, tanners and ughterhouses were the dirtiest and stinkiest jobs, and were usually on the river just outside of town. They dumped their guck in the water to wash it away, and I had to wonder how that jibed with dwarvenws about littering.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the vition.


    Up ahead we could see a crossroad, and we emerged onto a busy thoroughfare. Unlike our previous passage, this was a wide and straight highway meant for our carts, and I breathed a sigh of relief. While it was busy, it was nothing to the chaos from before wed entered Kinshasa, or the cramped ufortableness of the sidestreets.


    The main thoroughfare was wide, but <i>long</i>, and it took about a solid two hours of slow wagon travel before we came to the next area.


    Werein up on Scouts Crossing. Thwack gestured broadly ahead. He had to shout to be heard, as what had started as a dull thrum had turned into a roar. It runs across Tha Bends o Deepwater Gorge. Youll be seein one of tha sights o Kinshasa!


    There was a simultaneous gulping noise from eight throats. Up ahead an enormous bridgey over a mist-covered crevasse. The bridge was more like a <i>fortress</i>plete with parapets and an enormous portcullis. It was open for travel right now, but it could be well-defended at a moments notice. The sound of rushing water was immense, and I felt it like a solid weight on my lungs.


    Scout''s Crossing. Thwack <i>thwacked </i>his chest proudly.


    The bridge was easily wide enough to amodate three or four wagons, and stretched over a ck-watered river that was far, far below us. The crevasse walls on the opposite banks were dotted with windows, and I could see movement in them. Obviously the rules about no underground dwellings didnt apply on that side of the river. The river did bend here, rushing up against the wall from the east before pounding against the cliff walls and heading south.


    This heres Tha Bends! Thwack said merrily. He was clearly pleased that wed been dumbstruck by the sight. Tha vibrations keeps most monsters from Deepcore from diggin beneath it, so those cliffside houses and tha factories on the other side are tha most valuable real-estate in Yellowall!


    We crossed in fascination, lost in our thoughts, so it was a surprise when another wall almost immediately loomed in front of us again. It was an imposing grey-stone edifice that reminded me of the walls of Rothenburg ob der Tauber.


    Caroline and I had visited the ancient German city of Rothenburg once, mostly to check out their wine cers. They had a fun little restaurant called Hell in a cer from the 900s, so when a Rothenburger told you to go to Hell, they meant for dinner and a drink.


    Usually. It was hard to tell with Germans.


    Heres Greywall. Thwackmented. Once youre in tha city, passage between Yellowall, Greywall, and Redwall are unrestricted. Most of tha craftsdwarves and older ns live in Greywall. Tha hitball fields and wrestlin arenas, along with the Adventurin guild and a few others are located here. Tha giant and elven districts are further south of us, right along the inner wall.


    Kirk gave something between a grimace and a smile. I saw them when I came down the deep road. The human market is here too, though they sell human <i>goods </i>rather than humans. Thankfully.


    I perked up at that. I knew from Kirk that they sold rice at the human market, and I wanted to see what other goodies I could find there! I looked about to see if I could spot any other giants like Kirk, or even catch my first nce of an elf, but it was just a sea of beards and moustaches.


    You came down tha deep road from the surface!? Thwacks eyes grew wide with surprise. Im impressed!


    It was hard, but Im harder. Kirk struck a pose and flexed.


    Aqua choked.


    There didnt seem to be a checkpoint here, and carts were passing through both ways freely. There certainly were a lot of [Guards], looking here and there with the concentration of someone using an Ability, but not much past that.


    The difference between Yellowwall and Greywall was immediately noticeable. The industrious air I''de to associate with Minnova was back, along with the cheerful chatter and asional drunken brawl. We were even treated to the sight of a dwarf being tossed out the window of a pub called The Gatehouse. He was immediately trampled by the traffic and ran back inside with his beard between his legs to the sound of raucousughter.


    The housing here was dwarf standard again single storey affairs made of clean, grey stone with open air beer gardens and markets. I felt a sudden pang of homesickness for Minnova and stamped it down. Id had enough homesickness in the past two years tost a lifetime. <i>TWO</i> lifetimes.


    Oy! LOOK! Johnsson suddenly shouted, pointing to the side of the street. A lonely bottle sat there, thebel of a goat barely visible.


    Aye. There''s been a lotta folk drinkin yer bottles! Thwack grinned. City Hallll probably want ta have words with ya


    I winced. <i>Fudge</i>.


    Along with our bottles, I also spotted a familiar leaflet calling all readers to the Octamillenial march. Thadd Harmssons bold swirly signature stood out even at a distance. Thwack picked the leaflet up as we passed by and crumpled it up before depositing it in his pocket without a word.


    After another hour or so of uneventful travel through Greywall, another wall loomed ahead of us. This one was a deep dark red, like blood, and looked positively foreboding.


    When we pass through here, its just a short jaunt until we hit city hall. Well need to pass around tha Grand Market given tha size of yer wagons, or would ya prefer to drop em off first?


    I think wed like to keep them with us. Annie said with a tone that brooked no argument.


    Thwack shrugged. Suit yerself.


    I took a closer look at the stone as we passed through the gates; it had the porous look of volcanic stone.


    Is there a volcano around here? I asked, pointing at the wall.


    Thwack peered over to look at what I was indicating. Nope. When Kinshasa became tha capital, they made a point of gettin the cities in the North to ship in the volcanic rock ta make this wall. It was a symbol of them clearin everythin out to the Eastern Wilds. Before then it was too dangerous to ship things cross Crack.


    Huh, neat.


    A momentter we were through the gates of Redwall, and for the first time since arriving in Kinshasa, I really, truly understood why it was considered the greatest city in Crack.


    It was like the Grand Market of Minnova, but it just <i>kept going</i>. Elementals swept by overhead. Golems trudged to and fro, while roadside marketeers hawked their goods. Beyond just unigoats I saw exotic animals birds with rainbow feathers, dogs with wings, a godsdamn <i>unicorn</i>! Magical enchantments stood out <i>everywhere</i>, and wizards casually sketched sigils in the air to lift them above the crowds or put on disys of shing lights for coin.


    Thwack chuckled as a collection of rainbow bubbles floated past us before bursting to release the scent of strawberries. Kinshasa Univeristy is located in Redwall, along with the Grand Temple, the Central Bank, and most of our local trade guilds. North of us is the Arena, along with Golden Mug Casino, though youll need to pass through Rockdrop Docks and cross the river at Ironbore Bridge to get there.


    Our travel slowed as various party members fell to the wayside, tempted by treats or sights. Richter soon had his arms full of various books, Annie had a full mug of ale, and Aqua and Kirk were practically covered in sweets. Balin was using some fancy new wax hed bought to shine his shield, and Johsson had somehow picked up a pair of dwarfesses that were running their hands through his pink and purple beard with rapt expressions.


    As for Malt, he was sitting partially hidden in the cart. Hed been oddly quiet this entire time, and his eyes were scanning the crowd, like he was looking for something. I made a mental note to ask him about itter, as the giganticplex that was city hall came into view.


    Were here! Thwack said. d I could help! Just head on in, and theyll get ya settled. Wee ta Kinshasa! I hope you have a memorable stay!


    Well now, wasnt <i>that </i>a nice ol ancient Chinese curse?


    At least it wasnt my fault this time!

 Book 3: Chapter 12: Finding Home

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 12: Finding Home</h4>


    Ahhh, dwarven City Hall. It was like going to ICBC for drivers licensing, or the DMV, or <i>hell</i>.


    The first time Id been in City Hall Id been getting my name changed with Balin and Annie. Thatd taken nearly four hours, and involved over a dozen forms and multiple departments.


    Id started in poption census, then moved to births, then moved to citizen files. Then because old Peter Samson had been in trouble with thew, Id had to go to criminal records, followed by vital statistics to get my new citizen ID card.


    This was <i>worse</i>. Minnova City Hall was a singlerge building, and we only had to run from room to room. Kinshasa City Hall was a bureaucratic hellscape with five different buildings all built hodge-podge after-the-fact, and connected by both twisting tunnels and ground-level walkways.


    Just when we thought wed found the correct person, we were sent on our way again. By the time we actually had the right guy, even <i>Annie</i> looked ready to pop and she usually loved this stuff. Not that it was inefficient by any means. Everyone was working hard and it ran like a smoothly oiled machine, but there was <i>so much of it</i>!


    Then Annie notified them we wanted to build a full tavern with lodgings attached instead of just a brewpub, and things got <i>really </iplicated. We were covered by the crown for a <i>bar and brewery</i> for two years, but anything past that required us to front our own cash. Thankfully, Annie had a ton of gold to ess thanks to Johns little bet, and I was willing to front 50% as well, so we had plenty to y with.


    To make a long story short, we got shuffled around until the correct people were all organised, spent several hours in meetings, then were sent to the city nning office to select a location for our pub. In a busy city like Kinshasa, we were severely limited, but being regional champions in <i>two</i> different categories gave us a bit of weight to throw around.


    City nning was only able to provide part of the picture, so they gave us a map with a couple locations Xd, along with keys and instructions toe and tell them when wed chosen our brewpub location.


    We exited City Hall shell-shocked, <i>hours</i> after wed entered. The crack above us was disappearing as night began to fall up in thends above. I turned robotically towards Annie and asked, What just happened?


    Im not sure, she hesitantly admitted. I think were supposed to go to the locations with the Xs and decide if we like them.


    There was a hubbub as the people wed left outside noticed our return and came running. Copperpot arrived first. The [Arcanomechanical Engineer] was in fine form, with his propeller beanie running at full tilt, and his nice suit obscured by gloves and a heavy apron. What did they say??


    They said: fill these forms ande back tomorrow. I deadpanned with dead eyes.


    Typical, he hissed. Without gnomes, this country would need a year to take a single step.


    Johnsson countered, amused. Without dwarves, it would be burnt down in a week.


    Hah! True. So, what forms do you need to fill? Maybe I can help? Copperpot reached up, trying to get a look at the papers Annie was holding.


    Its easy enough. Annie said, passing them over. We need to go look at all of the ces Xd on this map. Then we need to fill out this form here to indicate which location we want, then this <i>other </i>form to dere our intent to purchase. Then we have <i>another</i> form that will provide crown funds for purchase of thend.


    Copperpots teeth snapped together as we continued listing off forms, while fending off Whistlemop, who was trying to get his hands on the maps.


    Do we want to split up? Annie asked, ncing at the enormous pile of paper. This might take us a couple days.


    Ya never split tha party! Balin said, resolutely. Specially in a new ce like this. Lets get settled, then figure things out.


    Aye. Annie nodded. Lets start by finding an inn to stay at until we have our new home.


    Of course, finding an inn turned out to <i>first</i> require a ce to put our carts. Redwall was a bit too full for our caravan to fit, especially Rasberrysyrups gigantic stage cart. After the second time we got into a fender bender, Berry decided to leave her cart at city hall with an overnight permit until we were situated, and hopped onto Bran and Opals wagon while her helpers followed on foot.


    Redwall continued to amaze us, and it was slow going until we found an inn that was able to A) amodate us all, and B) met Bimbleberrys exacting requirements. Whistlemops [Butler] was a matronly gnomess who was as prim and proper as youd expect. Every inn we walked into, she brieflybed over before dering it <i>uneptable</i>. She was joined by Bando, who was only too happy to point out the inadequacies of any inn that wasnt his mothers.


    The rest of us just wanted to rest our feet, so there was a groan of joy when we finally found an inn tucked into a corner beneath the Red Wall that met with the [Butler] and the boys approval.


    A swinging wooden goat over the door dered it to be The Prancing Unigoat and it was everything I couldve hoped for from a fantasy tavern. A bard sat in therge, open indoor pub, providing a gentle ambiance to the space while happy patronsughed, joked, and fought. The inn was modeled in the gnomish style, which meant it was heavy on the wood and ss, making for a well-lit and warm space. I made sure to take some notes for our own inn.


    The proprietors were a gnome by the name of Robinsbobbin, and his wife, a dwarfess by the name of Inga. They were the first interracial couple Id seen on Erd, and I had to apud the gnome for his choice Inga was a fiiiinedy, with a fiery disposition and the beard to match.


    They had no children to help run things, but they had an efficient team of maids and servers. They were also more than happy to take on our gnome-heavy crew for what could be an extended period. We were lucky they had space, as the ce was pretty full. That boded well for our own future tavern.


    With bags in our rooms and a base of operations, it was time to park the caravan. Malt and most of the gnomes stayed behind to watch the fort, while Copperpot, Amethyst, and Whistlemop came with us. We then retraced our steps through Redwall and Greywall to the warehouses in Yellowall. As we passed through Greywall, team Brighstar offered a farewell and left to go to the adventurers guild. Balin made a doglike back-and-forth walk, then decided to stay with us for now.


    Looking up at the massive structures I was reminded of the warehouse wed converted into a brewery with Copperpot. I shivered at the memory of gnomish corporate ninjas and was suddenly grateful for Balins presence. While Copperpot, Whistlemope, and Amethyst arranged for the long-term rental of arge warehouse space, I made <i>absolutely sure</i> that my [Minimap] was still set to show me if Ambermine the gnomish assassin was nearby.


    This narrative has been uwfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    With the wagons parked, the unigoats paddocked, Penelope angrily underfoot, and everyone else restless as heck, it was back to the hotel for a veryte bedtime.


    We could start scoping ces in the morning.


    I think we can safely ignore all the options in Yellowwall. I said, giving another look at the quality of the wall on the alley-side of the pub. I stuck my thumb in between the stones, and pieces of rock sheared away under my grip.


    Avoiding garbage like this was usually the job of a realtor. Those didn''t exist here though, which was probably a good thing.


    Aqua protested. There are a lot of travelers whoe through Yellowwall but never make it further. They just park their wagons in a warehouse, hit the nearest inn, and leave in the morning. Plus, rent will be cheap after the two years are up, and it could be lucrative.


    I think I agree with Pete. Annie said, giving the front door a kick. It dented inwards, and she gave a contemptuous snort. Its cheap, but its also <i>cheap</i>.


    The first location wede to looked like something straight out of an old horror movie. A small stone building located down a sidestreet away from the main thoroughfare under the Yellow Wall, with plenty of ck paint and shadows to go with it. A tenement house tacked on as an afterthought was clearly meant to be in the inn portion. The wood on the housing was splintering, and it had clearly been reconstructed at least once.


    Plus, I tink it already has owners, Richter chuckled, peering through the cobwebby windows. Inside, dozens of fluffy felines were doing their best to stay out of view and failing. I couldnt <i>imagine </i>what the smell was like in there.


    I categorically refuse to work in a ce like that. Whistlemop grumped.


    Not that you get a vote. This isnt going to be for you, Whistlemop. Why are <i>you</i> here again? I thumped Whistlemap on the top-hat, and he frowned back up at me.


    You think Im going to let my business partner traipse around the capital with that snake Copperpot and note to protect him?


    Copperpot snorted. Says the <i>rat</i>.


    I folded my arms. Doubt.


    Whistlemop gave me wide begging eyes. Fine, I want to start selling Whistlemugs here in the capital. And if you want a steady supply of ss and bottles youre going to need someone who knows the ins and outs of the ss trade. You <i>need</i> me. Give me some help and Ill be able to have you knee deep in bottles within the month!


    He has a point, Aqua agreed. I didnt even think about how we were going to get bottles again.


    I hesitated. Neither had I,e to think of it. Wed had them so readily in Minnova that Id forgotten how hard they were to get in the first ce.


    Alright, Im d <i>youre </i>here. I admitted. But <i>I</i> dont want to be here. This ce is awful.


    There was a general murmur of agreement, and I crossed it off the list.


    As for the rest of the Yelowall locations, I dont think theyre enough for what Annie and I want. We need something permanent where people cane and spend their gold on fine food, alcohol, and afy bed. Yelowall doesnt strike me as that kind of ce. Thats not even mentioning the threat of monster attacks.


    I agree with Pete, Annie said. Mark them all off.


    Copperpot sighed and crossed off arge swath of our options. This isnt very scientific, heined, we havent seen enough to make a solid judgment.


    Really? Look around. Youd rather stay here than in Redwall or Greywall when the Crown is paying for it?


    Oh, I didnt say <i>that</i>, just that its unscientific. He sniffed and stuffed the map away into a storage Ability of some kind. But I agree, lets move on. This ispletely uneptable for a Pots partner.


    So we backtracked <i>again</i> to Redwall and began checking the locations there. My poor feet!


    All the Redwall locations were incredible in their own right. One had a full outdoor beer garden and deep cer system like the Brewers Guild House in Minnova, and another came with a whole set of fancy enchantments in the kitchen that had Bran running around like a kid with a candy bar.


    One ce that really caught our eyes reminded me of a pub from back home, with a giant ss picture window with a crisscrossing woodenttice of grills for the entire front wall. It was two storeys tall and another two deep with a small carriage house beside it that also served as an underground entrance to lodgings. The inside was just as luxurious, with a plush carpeted floor and even a stage for performance. With a bit of work we could convert the bottom basement level to a brewroom, and probably even pipe beer up to the brewery like the old English style. Every part of it was perfect.


    What do you think? I asked, after wed toured the rooms.


    I love it. Annie sighed, but can we afford it?


    Its amazing! Whistlemop added. Primo gnomish design! And who cares what it costs, the Kings paying!


    Yeah, but we have to pay and upkeep it <i>afterwards</i>. I noted, running [Mental Maths] as I reviewed the specifications on this location. And inns are not exactly lucrative.


    Howsabout ya let me dun take a look, there. Bando asked, holding out a hand for the spec sheets. Hmmm yeah, youd need ta be chargin some <i>serious </i>gold ifn ya wanted ta stay here.


    Which is probably why its vacant. I sighed, looking it over onest time.


    Maybe if we nned to leave right after, but we want to <i>stay</i>. Annie said firmly, flipping through the real-estate costs. I think the Redwall locations have the exact opposite of the Yellowall buildings. Its too expensive for what we want. Since the Crown is paying for the upgrades, we should go get a <i>good </i>ce in Greywall and then use that money to make it <i>amazing</i>.


    Ooooh!! I love that n! Aqua jumped up and down. We could install <i>so much stuff!</i> I definitely want something like that stage!


    I clutched my feet and groaned. Alright, to Greywall. I bet the best choice will be thest ce we check.


    As it turned out, it was the third tost.


    The building sat at a crossroad just off of Main Street, nestled between a cafe and a bakery. Foot traffic was heavy here, but with the heady air of shopping and tourism. It had white sandstone walls with a red mortar that leant it a cheery cherry air. It was actually two storeys with a peaked red roof, and there was apparently arge fully furnished basement. The front door was a wide circr affair; it kind of reminded me of Hobbitons Bag End, but with a red door instead of green, and stone instead of soil, and a roof instead of grass, and gnomes instead of hobbits and...


    Okay, it looked nothing like Bag End, but it did have a round door, and a <i>feeling</i>.


    Whistlemop dered that itd probably been a ssmaker or other industrial process building at some point, judging from the leftover fixtures we could see through the windows. It had an enormous front picture window like our favourite from Redwall, though this time with diamond grills. A trellis awning jutted a good two meters onto the street from the roof, and was covered in vines that looked like they were berry bearing.


    The building was apparently <i>much</i>rger than the small storefront we could see from the street, and formed its own Euro-bloc in the back. The floor n said it had a small stable, a carriage house, and some row houses all clustered around a wide stone courtyard. Arge portcullis was currently down, preventing entry to the area, but just what we could already see was impressive enough.


    A trio of gnomish customers sat outside the cafe, a cozy little establishment named <i>The Whistling Teapot</i> and gave us curious nces as we peered through windows and made joyful smalltalk.


    Its a perfect location! Copperpot crowed. Theres so much traffic through here. And its so close to a ce for coffee!


    It would need a lot of work. Annie hawwed, but you could tell she was seeing that work in her minds eye and liking the result.


    Who cares! Its our taxes paying for it! Whistlemop rattled the doorknob. Let us in! I want to see!


    Annie held up a set of keys wed been given and spun it around to arge bronze key shaped like a vase. Aye. Lets go in. And Johnsson, stop Penelope from eating that vine.


    *MEEEEEHHH* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] Let me rest and eat you absolute <i>monsters!!</i>


    So with a creak, and a poof of dust, the door swung open and the Thirsty Goat and friends walked inside.


    Then sneezed a lot.

 Book 3: Chapter 13: Body and Mind

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 13: Body and Mind</h4>


    The inside of the building was a bit of a let down after the outside. The main building was obviously set up as a factory of some sort at one point, and very little had been done forfort. It was all stark stone with a few wooden ents. That struck me as a <i>dwarven</i> design decision. It felt very much like cave-deco.


    The second storey was an open balcony affair with a single set of stairs going up to it. There was some space for tables up there, but it was probably just used for management oversight originally.


    While all the furniture was gone, a series of long counters still ran along the center of the stone floor, their surfaces dusty but well-made. There was a good amount of light let in from the front window and some solstones dug into the rafters above us so it wasnt dark or dingy by any means. A front desk made of well-oiled wood was set up in front of the door.


    Yes, yes. It was definitely a ssworks. Whistlemop mused, running his hands over the long counters and ducking to look beneath them. You can see where they had the rollers set up for the annealer here, and this odd empty space wouldve been for a ssblowing furnace or maybe the float bath. See how they run right up to that big hole in the wall there? I bet that leads to wherever they had the melting chamber. The apprentices wouldve passed the molten ss through the window to the masters and journeymen to craft in here. I think they did ss blowing <i>and</i> manufacturing. They were big, whoever they were.


    Its like listening to Pete Aqua muttered.


    Kirk did a few hops and smiled broadly as his head didn''t evene close to the rafters. Much easier to stand in here than back at the Goat!


    That was true. It was quite roomy, even with all of us wandering around inside. Whistlemop, Copperpot, Bran, Opal, Bando and myself really did make for a pretty big crew.


    Copperpot, are you nning to stay? I gave the engineer some stinkeye. I already had Malt along, and now Whistlemop was hankering for space as well. I wasnt sure I could handle a third little surprise.


    Oh, goodness no. Copperpot chuckled. The Pots have our own house here in Kinshasa. We provide tea for all of Crack you know, so Ive been here a few times. Ill see about getting another warehouse set up like we did in Minnova. I am excited to see where you end up, though.


    I gave him a <i>look</i>. And you didnt let us stay at your ce? Or park your carriage there? Why not??


    Im trying to avoid making a big to-do until were ready, Pete. Copperpot winked, and I rolled my eyes.


    Well, in the meantimes, what do ya think? As someone who fits our target market? I asked, gesturing around the space.


    Hmmm Target Market, I like that phrase. Well, its within a reasonable distance of Yellowwall, while not being too far from Redwall. The gated courtyard is a big plus, crime can be a bit of a problem in a big city like Kinshasa, as you can imagine, and the space itself is quite cozy. The colour choice and materials are very dwarven and you may want to change those up if you want more gnomish customers, but it is quite nice, all told.


    So could you see yourself staying here? Annie asked, buffing the front window with her sleeve and looking outside at the busy street.


    Oh, Aaron no! Copperpotughed. This isnt like Minnova with its egalitarian atmosphere. Or the East for that matter. Gnomes will be keeping mostly to gnomish cafes and dwarves to dwarven taverns. Between your beer and your ownership, this is clearly a <i>dwarven</i> establishment.


    And Minnova wasnt <i>that</i> egalitarian, I thought morosely. Heck, my auditor, Silverpen, had been an anomaly: the only gnome at City Hall.


    So then why bother gussyin it up fer gnomish customers, eh?? I asked incredulously.


    Because <i>Id</i> being over? You may not get many other gnomes, but at least youll always have a Pot!


    Which is why Thad Harmsson is so important! Bando cut in excitedly. He ns to patch things up by cuttin out all the oldws preventin gnomes from bin Greybeards! Or Brewers, or any of th''other dwarf-only jobs!


    Peh. Weasel words and a passing fancy. Whistlemop scoffed.


    Bando turned angry eyes on him. Lord Harmsson is an inspiration to all of us! He works tirelessly so''s every dwarf, dwarfess, and moustachio are equal under tha long beard o thaw. Uh, and gnomes.


    Yes, yes. Im sure hes very nice. Annie sighed. Pete, what do you think?


    I <i>like i</i>t! But I dont know


    Back in the day, Caroline and Id made the decision <i>not</i> to go all in on a full pub or tavern for Beavermoose Brewery. We had a small tap-house, but it was just a shack that probably wasnt up to code with a bunch of kegs in it. Itd never been something as lofty as our current situation, even after expanding into a winery.


    Well, I <i>love </i>it! Aqua purred, running her hand over a counter. Its a bit dusty, but whats a little dust? Whos going to be my serving counter? You are!


    Who wants to go look at the courtyard? I asked, moving over to a series of wide windows into the courtyard. It was a bit overgrown, with the usual brown scrub that grew down here. There were also vines creeping about, probably from the same nt that had taken over the front trellis. The courtyard itself was made of wellid cobblestone, and big enough for a few carriages to maneuver around. From where I was sitting I could just make out stable space, which we would need for Penelope of course. Speaking of which.


    Do you like it Peneleope? Uh Penelope? Has anyone seen Penelope? I nced around the room, sudden icy-terror flooding my veins. Had we left her behind somewhere in the city??


    She was just eating vines outside, but Im certain she came in with us. Annie dashed out to look.


    *meeeehhh* [Tranted from Prima Donna goat] Do you have holes for eyes? How can you not see a Princess when she is standing before you?


    I jumped nearly a meter into the air, and Johnsson squeaked. Shede out of <i>nowhere</i>! Aarons Fancy Freckled ARSE!


    I held my thumping chest. Penelope! Ya scared tha bejeezus out of me! Annie! Shes in here!


    Annie walked back in, her face a mask of confusion. How did we miss her?


    She was probably hidin in a back room or somethin. Come out to the courtyard with me!


    Well stay here. Copperpot said, motioning at Whistlemop. See what the furnace room looks like. I need this fellow to help me figure out how hard itll be to renovate.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Bran grunted. Me too. I want to see where my kitchen will go. I wont be stayin here neither. Opal has family in Kinshasa, so well be bunkin with her n in ckwall.


    I cant wait to introduce them to the <i>champion</i> Chef of Minnova. Opals smile glittered more brilliantly than her namesake.


    Hah! You mean you cant wait fer me to be cookin again! Bran chuckled and the two shared a moustache nuzzle.


    Ugh. Go get a room. Literally. Figure out where you want yer kitchen Bran. Check with Whistlemop that itll fit after renovations.


    Aye, Pete.


    Richter, Johnsson, go scope out the basement. I want to know if itll fit a brewroom or long-term beer storage. Kirk, you go too, I want to make sure youll fit.


    The trio nodded and headed out while I turned to everyone remaining.


    Aqua, Annie, Balin, youre with me. Lets see if the housing is as nice as the facilities.


    Um, Im not wantin ta be a bother, like, but do ya got any of them there jobs fer me? Bando asked.


    I gave the innkeepers son a look over, then nodded. Keep an eye on Penelope.


    Goat and boy shared a look of mutual distrust.


    *mahh* [Tranted from Prima Donna goat] What is this pathetic wastrel you have thrust upon me??


    Bado paled as Penelope fixed him with her whirling eyes.Are, are you sure?


    Good luck! We allughed as we ambled out the side door and into the courtyard.


    It was surprisingly bright outside, with the enormousnterns hanging over the city giving everything a cheery yellow glow. The courtyard area was fully enclosed by buildings, with a portcullis archway leading to the street.


    Besides the stables, there was a small <i>carriage </i>house designed to hold <i>carriages</i>, and a <i>row </i>of <i>row </i>houses. Maybe we could have a <i>row</i> in themter. Nyuck! There were three of the single-storey affairs, though I knew there was another floor beneath the ground, and finally, arger two-storey manor house with a stopped clock on its peaked rough. While it was a bit overgrown at the moment, the structures were well-made.


    Unlike the outer walls, the walls inside the courtyard had a dark wood criss-crossing over the facade. It very much reminded me of old half-timber houses in Germany, actually. The manor house had a second-storey balcony overlooking the courtyard that definitely added to the effect.


    Its perfect. Annie sighed, looking around.


    I call dibs on the house on the right! Aqua squealed.


    I think thosere for the guests, Annie cajoled. Well be lodging in that lovely looking manor.


    I scoffed. Psh. Havent you two ever been house hunting? You never fall in love with a ce until after youve checked the foundations and dug behind the fresh coat of paint. I said that, but the truth was I really liked it too. Hopefully we wouldnt find any oil tanks under the ground, or moldy walls, or that it was part of a homeowners association. But if this was going to be our new crib, I was going to go over it with a fine-toothed beardb.


    Aye, Ill need at least a day ta look it over. Needs some repairs, Balin agreed, running his hands over some of the wood making up the framing. And these wooden beams need a good look over. Seems like they were goin fer mine-deco in tha main building, but whoever did tha courtyard wanted ta shine it up a bit. Overall, tha ce looks more gold than pyrite. Itll be right proper after some hard work!


    Sounds like a problem for the Kings purse! Aqua chuckled, her hands rubbing together at the thought of a near-unlimited budget.


    Lets go into the manor house, I want to see what the future home of n Goldstone looks like! Annie marched resolutely forward, with Aqua pattering on her heels. Balin and I followed after a momentter.


    The manor house had that lonely feeling that only an empty home could have. Empty rooms that were meant to be filled with furniture and happy faces. It followed the dwarven style I was used to with an open space at the entry-way with a series of open doorways leading out to various rooms. Said rooms were all appropriately cavernous and well proportioned, with a living room, dining room, and kitchen. The kitchen was bare bones, but wed be eating at the pub anyways. The lounge had a sunken space meant for reading, with bookshelves and an ornate stone firece. Richter was going to have conniptions!


    Upstairs was an office space, with one room filled with shelves for arger library, and a bunch of cork walls to ce notes. The patio overlooking the courtyard was inside what was probably meant to be the master-office. The basement was the exact opposite, with a bunch of small holes in the ground meant to be bedrooms.


    One room tucked into a back corner of the basement was even set up as a spacious hot-spring and sauna, with a slot for magic stones Id need to get Richter to give those a once over.


    Lighting was good too. There were sconces liberally ced for Solstones; that would be expensive, but cleaner and easier than candles. Also, the wall facing the courtyard was filled with windows that let in bright light, and if Kinshasa was anything like MInnova that would be 32 hours a day.


    I knew Id told Annie not to get attached, but dammit, it was just so <i>perfect</i>. Between the courtyard, the pub, and the location, this was more than enough for our burgeoning little n to thrive, and <i>grow</i>.


    There were a grand total of twenty rooms in the manor, <i>more</i> than enough space for all of us. One of the bedrooms in the basement that I was already mentally calling dibs on had a <i>loft!</i> I was going to get them to tunnel it a bit deeper into the wall so I could have a secret little dwarfcave. A couple months of digging and hard work, and it would be <i>just </i>right! Then when the n was having get-togethers I could invite a select few in for beers and beard-oiling. I could even


    I paused.


    How long had I been thinking like this? Just earlier this year, Id been wanting a home of my own; a ce that was <i>me </i>where I wouldnt be tripping over a roommate all the time<i>.</i> But here I was searching for a ce for my <i>n</i>, putting their needs andfort above my own, pleased with a <i>cubbyhole </i>in a <i>corner </i>in a <i>basement</i>.


    And yet it felt right. Like an armoured sock protecting a vulnerable foot. Or ming bagpipes in the dark. Or digging for gold in a dangerous, gas-filled, dimly lit tunnel.


    Ibed my beard as I mused, and realized that it was just a bit easier to brush than usual. Probably all the extra care Id been putting into it the past couple weeks with Johnsons help. Richter had been just a bit more genial and <i>genuine </i>in his lessons on dwarven culture. Heck, even Annie, and Aqua were subtly different. Like a well, <i>big lie</i> had been lifted off our rtionship. Only Balin and Kirk were the same. Balin because he already knew everything, and Kirk because he probably couldnt tell the difference.


    I walked down the hall to regard myself in a wall-mounted mirror. It stood right before the stairs leading out of the basement, a space to check one''s beard for night-drool before heading upstairs.


    All that stared back was a squinty-eyed, ruddy-faced, armoured-sock-wearing, warhammer-on-hips, dwarf.


    Me.


    I smiled, and the dwarf smiled back.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Hidden Quest Complete: Body and Mind</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Your Spirit and Spark are now one. Feels good to be a dwarf doesnt it? </i>


    <i>Gained: [Map]</i>


    <i>*Bing!*</i>


    <strong>Ability Improved!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Your [Minimap] has evolved into [Map]!</i><i></i>


    <i>Your [Map] now has a mapping function! Its range has increased! You may set notifications!</i>


    <i>*Bing!*</i>


    <strong>Quest Complete: On The Road Again</strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i> Reach Kinshasa Alive: 310.2/273.5 km</i>


    <i>Gained 1 Agility! Your new Agility is 13.2!</i>

 Book 3: Chapter 14: The Pieces Move

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 14: The Pieces Move</h4>


    Thad Harmsson.


    His name was on the lips of every gnome and dwarf this side of Minnova.


    Thad Harmsson, debonair dwarf and professional baby kisser.


    Thad Harmsson, designer of the new roundabouts and the refugee retraining program.


    Thad Harmsson, the up anding [Astute Politician] and soon-to-be Greybeard.


    Thad Harmsson was having a marvelous day.


    In fact, hed been having marvelous days ever since hede to this marvelous, magical, world of Erd.


    He nced over at his charming elven secretary and she gave him a wink, before sensuously adjusting her blouse to be <i>just </i>the way he liked it. Her smooth olive-green skin stood out against the red mesh of the material, making her movement even more eye-catching. Not that any of the hairy barbarians standing around the table could appreciate her un-bearded beauty.


    Pity she was technically a nt.


    Because of course, there couldnt be any marvel without some drudgery as well. He sighed internally for the umpteenth time, though not so much as a twitch showed on his calm, assured expression. Hed need to ask one of his gnomess maids for a backrub tonight; their small hands could get knots out like nobodys business.


    Sam, the red haired [Maestro] that hed managed to sweet talk to his cause was busy berating a lower noble again. This time it was over erdroot farm taxation in the southern face. Monsters had ruined a significant number of crops, and the nobility were raising taxes to amodate the reduced ie, rather than tightening their own belts.


    Which meant the noble probably deserved the dressing down. Youd think by now they wouldve learned that they just couldnt <i>do</i> things the way they used to once they were in his camp. Too many of them considered this little revolution as a way to put themselves on top like that idiot Louis ckbeard.


    He let them think that, of course. They could be useful in their own self-absorbed ways.


    Speaking of ckbeard the twit was busy trying to talk up Lady Vi again. It looked like someone was going to need to punch his nose in again before he got the picture. Like Tourmaline Barnes; now <i>there</i> was a princessling worthy of the name Specialised, sharp as te, and dangerous as a shale shark. And Louis had <i>ruined </i>any chance of her joining their camp.


    At least hed done something useful this time. The contacts Louis had made within the gnomish oligarchs of Minnova had been helpful in the takeover of a few local hardnoses. Plus, his suborning of Lord Bronzeson would be very helpful if and when things came to a vote in the Council of Greybeards.


    Then there was the trio who''d apanied him back in his carriage. The gnomish [Toxic Assassin] Ambermine was rudderless and pliable, but the other two, especially the silver armed Drum, were dangerous tools, just as liable to cut him as his enemies. Still, he was certain in his ability to keep them in line, and they were <i>very</i>petent.


    Sam and Lord Newcastle were beginning to clench their fists while they argued, which meant it was time to intervene. He couldnt let this go on for too long, or hed start losing Lord Newcastles support. Juggling so many disparate groups within a single cause was a tricky tightrope, and in some ways even harder here than itd been back in Australia. He activated [Project Voice] and pitched to a calming tone.


    Charisma was <i>awesome.</i> In some ways it was a cheat stat if you <i>really </i>knew how to use it. It wasnt quite mind control, but it made it easy to find exactly what buttons to press and levers to pull. Too many dwarves used it like a blunt instrument when it was meant to be a scalpel.


    His elderly baritone broke out over the arguing, well articted, and in the noble style. Sam, what Lord Newcastle is trying to say, is that without the additional taxation, he will not be able to pay his local garrison enough to push back against the uptick in monster attacks. As the Lord of Southridge, he has a responsibility, nay a <i>duty </i>to protect the home that his ancestors so nobly settled.


    Silence immediately fell, and Lord Newscastle adjusted his suit and sniffed.


    And Lord Newcastle, Sam is new to our movement, but as a [Maestro] he has an ability with words that are second to none. He is instrumental to our new propaganda arm, and it is his responsibility to ensure that the newsing out of Southridge helps our cause. You will need his help, unless you want Duke Newcastle to take your fiefdom again? Can you give him something positive to report?


    Sam harrumphed and crossed his arms across his leather gambeson, but a glint of satisfaction crossed his eyes at seeing a noble getting dressed down.


    Lord Newcastle pondered for a moment, then said, My militia received the first batch of spears from your refugee retraining program, Lord Harmsson. Even with how cheap they were, I still would not have been able to afford them without the extra taxes. They were instrumental in preventing the deaths of several hundred vigers after thetest attacks from deep Crack.


    Heroic! Can you do something with that Sam?


    Sam nodded begrudgingly.


    Thad''s smile was wide and brilliant. Excellent, you are <i>indeed</i> a master of the craft. Do you see everyone? Noble and bard, east and west; could you imagine the Council being so considerate of their fellow dwarves? This is what we are fighting for! Long live the revolution!


    There was a cheer. LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION!!


    See? Appeal to their vanity, and these dwarves were simplicity itself. Nothing at all like the sharks that swam in the political waters of Canberra. Though some of the gnomish oligarchs or senior Greybeards could be terrifying in their own right. Thad still wasnt quite used to detforming your opponents being synonymous with throwing them from a parapet, but he was learning. And dear Gods, some of these nobles <i>deserved</i> what''de for them. In a few cases they were worse than the monsters they purported to stand against.


    With a few more deft words he steered the conversation back towards nning for the uing Octamillenial contests. Contestants from all over Crack were arriving in Kinshasa, and he needed maximum interest and engagement if this was going to work.


    Nobody outside of this room was aware that all the disparate junior nobles and [Administrators] running and designing and pitching the contests were dancing to his tune. It was all part of his grand n to upend the status quo and be the most influential dwarf in Crack.


    What had started as an honest desire to improve the efficiency of dwarven administration had turned into so much more.


    There were three prongs to his thrust at the heart of the dwarven government. First, the massive expenses incurred by the Crown for all these events would squeeze the Council of Greybeards'' already stretched budget and put pressure on the various lords and guilds. Second, the influx of refugees and tourists flooding to Kinshasa through his various outreach and aid programmes would destabilize the order of the city. And third, the firebrands and revolutionaries of their respective craftspeting before the eyes of the popce would be the sparks he needed to start a fire.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the vition.


    If everything went to n, next year would end with a massive march on the castle and the rise of Thad Harmsson to power as Prime Minister of the new dwarven Constitutional Monarchy. All perfectly legally, and on the back of his localised Magna Carta, or Great Charter. Six years after that he would retire, to enjoy a well-earned rest.


    Yes, everything was marvelous.


    And that was making him miserable.


    Because he was going to die.


    That absolute <i>BITCH</i> of a Goddess, Lunara, had put him in the body of an over-the-hill dwarf, and the irony was going to kill him, literally.


    Oh certainly, at the ripe old age of 650 he still had a good hundred or more years to go, but that meant nothing when measured against the <i>centuries </i>of youth he <i>could </i>have enjoyed. Somewhere in this world there were seven other schmucks ying this Great Game, and he was willing to bet none of them were stuck in an old, dying, body.


    Because he needed to be old to y his part. Fuck.


    One of the other <i>chosen</i> was even a <i>dragon</i>!


    A DRAGON! He was in a world of magic and dragons, and he would never throw a single fireball or fly through the sky on dragon wings.


    By all tha Gods but Lunara, it was fuckin BULLSHIT.


    Thad adjusted the eagle-headed cane at his side as he pulled apact mirror out of his pocket. He examined his features as he brushed his beard; at least he was ruggedly handsome. A grey pinstripe suit, tailored to perfection, and the height of fashion among the nobles of Kinshasa in no small part due to him. A long ck beard peppered with grey and a thick but short walrus moustache.


    Hair done up in a white-streaked ponytail held by a golden ring, and both ears and fingers festooned with golden bangles and gems.


    Within the Gods eight year time-limit he would <i>influence</i> every single being on this continent through an avnche of democratic revolutions across all the kingdoms. He would win this stupid contest, and he already knew what to wish for.


    He would wish for magic and evesting life.


    He would wish to be a <i>dragon</i>.


    And <i>nothing</i> was going to stand in his way.


    Not even those damnable Gods or any of their pitiable chosen.


    Somewhere else.


    On the side of a cliff there stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table sat in the centre of the gazebo, and a group of six cloaked figures sat around it in ornate wooden chairs.


    Solen, current master of ceremonies for the Great Game, the God of Chaos and Freedom frowned at the two empty seats. One was for Barck, who''d been kicked out for impropriety. He was probably somewhere on the Firmament chewing on some new treat and drinking some new drink. The other was for


    Wheres Yearn? Why has she been missing game night so oftentely? Solen asked, looking around suspiciously. We still havent seen head or hair from her Chosen. Lunara, youve been keeping watch, is he dead?


    Lunara, the Goddess of Darkness and Law and Order frowned, Not that Im aware of. Hes still blocked from sight, and not influencing anything that I can see. But hes on the board and earning Karma quickly, so unless Yearn is somehow suborning Archiss magic


    Archis chuckled, his old eyes twinkling with mirth. Not likely! Shes busy driving. I suspect shes just bored, and will be back eventually.


    Lunara frowned, Shes driving <i>again</i>?? She <i>never</i> drives!.


    Can we talk about Solens Chosen instead? The Sword God? Aaron interrupted angrily. Hes almost finished uniting the dragons. Need I remind you what happened thest time?


    Solen shed a fanged smile and settled smugly back in his chair.


    Pfeh, even if he unites them, just teaching them this newfangled Cultivation isnt going to change anything, just make them more tired andzy. Lunara waved the concern off.


    Oh, I dont know about that. Archis said cheerfully. The God of Magic and Knowledge pulled a notebook out of nowhere, and some mathemagical equations fluttered from it to float above the table. It could prove to be a real problem. However, Solens Chosen may find it more difficult than he expects.


    What!? What did you do!? Solen asked, suddenly looking at the board with deeper interest.


    I didnt do anything, its just a <i>Fundamental </i>difference between the way our universes work. Archis twisted his hand and the disy over the table shifted and twisted to reveal a hidden valley. Human men and women in flowing robes trained, meditated, and fought each other with a variety of weapons. A Murim universe is set up to allow bodies to achieve a soul-like state and ascend to a higher ne. Denizens forge their bodies and minds through abination of battle, meditation, and alchemy. Few seed at true ascension, but even a low-level cultivator can be more powerful than a fully Specialised individual from Erd.


    Archis twisted his hand again, and the image reverted back to more symbols. Unfortunately, the cycle of reincarnation means that Erdian souls are not capable of proper cultivation. They can go through the motions, but all thatll happen is that theyll strengthen their body and soul; and a dragons physical body is incapable of growing any stronger.


    But strengthening the soul just strengthens <i>us</i>. Midna muttered. It''s the method by which we grant Milestones. The Goddess of Spirit and Communication was slumped in her chair staring at the board with ck circles under her eyes. Her piece, a white figurine of a woman holding a book and quill, had meandered off to a corner of the board and stopped moving.


    Archis nodded. Yes, as a foreign soul, the Sword God will be able to cultivate here, but not ascend. After he reincarnates a few times, he will lose the ability to properly cultivate.


    Solen was now desperately looking over the board, though his eyes were clearly looking at something else. But but most dragons are already fully Specialised!!! Theres no further benefit to getting Milestones!


    Yes, an unfortunate side effect of living practically forever. Archis nodded.


    Solens mouth gathered fire, and he roared it up into the sky. Argghhhh!!!!!


    The other Gods ignored Solen as he rampaged in anger. His continuous attempts to shift the dragon from their torpor had resulted in more than one such disy over the millenia. The other gods were not very interested in seeing the dragons seed, especially given what had happened the <i>first </i>time.


    A bright voice came up from below table height as Tiara, Goddess of Matter and Possession spoke. Im more excited to see whatll happen in Kinshasa now that there are four Chosen in the city! Things areing to a head for the first time since the game began! Its a bit early, but it should be exciting to watch! And my Chosen is well situated to take advantage of it!


    Three figurines stood facing each other on the board. A dwarf holding a tankard, a gnomess frozen in dance, and a dwarf holding a shepherd''s crook. At their side, a fourth figure an elf in fine clothes holding a purse was slowly approaching.


    I still think my Chosen will wipe the floor with them all. Lunara smiled broadly at the figurine with the crook. Hes driven, dedicated, and the only one really trying to win.


    Which is why hes going to lose. Youve made him too desperate, Lunara, thats going to get him in trouble. Aaron chastised. The God of Aether and Exchange had a frown etched on his beastfolk face as he stared at the board.


    I dont think theyre going to interact, Tiara said. Pete and Raspberrysyrup arent even involved in politics.


    Oh, Im <i>certain </i>that Berry will catch his eye, Archis said. Though Im not sure about Pete.


    Tiara shook her head. <i>Im</i> positive. Pete is so far up his own brew that he won''t even notice if the city starts burning down around him.


    Well, I think that my Chosen will suss him out and take him down within half a year. Lunara chuckled.


    Ill take that bet! Tiara piped back.


    Fine! Its a bet!


    The two Goddesses shook hands.


    On the game board, the pieces moved.


    Down below on Erd, months passed.

 Book 2 Official Release!

    <h4>Book 2 Official Release!</h4>


    Hello everyone! Im here with some more punny antics to share with all of you! When I put my writing out on the wider intest year, I was pleasantly surprised by how well it was received by the readingmunity. I may or may not have some screenshots of me sitting next to some of my favourite authors on the best seller lists. It seems people are thirsty for more, so Im pleased to present another book for your reading pleasure.


    *****


    <strong>A Brewtiful Life - Beers and Beards Book 2 is now out on Amazon in ebook, physical, and audio format!</strong>


    <strong>Description:</strong>


    Peter Roughtuff now has a home, a brewery, and enough gold in the bank to finally rx. With the events ofst year behind him, he can get down to what really matters brewing. When hes not fending off horrors like tax auditors, belligerent goats, or gnomish corporate ninjas, that is! Join Pete and the rest of the Thirsty Goat family as they throw themselves into preparations to win the biggest contest of their lives. With the future of the True Brew, and a bet with the God Barck on the line, Pete is going to do whatever it takes to be the best brewer in all of Minnova! Book 2 of a Cozy Fantasy Series filled with love,ughter, epic fantasy, and a little mncholy. <i>Beers & Beards</i> bnces epic fantasy & slice-of-life with charm aplenty and a charisma score high enough to make a bard blush. It doesn''t matter if you like beer or not, this is set to fill your need forforting stories!


    This tale has been uwfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    <strong>Reviewers say:</strong>


    <strong></strong>the best goat ever!


    a memorable and fun journey.


    <strong>Links:</strong>


    <strong>Amazon: /amazon/B0CK53X286</strong>


    <strong><strong>Audible: /pd/B0CYQJ6PN2</strong></strong>

 Book 3: Chapter 15: Inspector Gadget

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 15: Inspector Gadget</h4>


    You know, this is a pretty heavy bit of deja-vu. I surmised, watching the inspector as he fiddled with a dial on the stainless-steel pressurized fermentation tank. Well, it <i>looked</i> like stainless, but it was actually a special alloy made with <i>shellback </i>shells.


    Whuzzat? The elderly dwarf in the ck robes of a senior Master Brewer grumbled. Master Brewer Blunt knocked the tank with his fist a few times and frowned, his white beard and moustache twitching with disapproval.


    This is tha second time this year Im bein inspected. Though tha first time was an auditor.


    How long ago was that? Start o tha year?


    Aye. Doesnt feel like it, though! Phew! The Octamillenial isin up fast!


    Not surprised yer bein inspected so much. The inspector grumbled. By Barcks Beard, I dunno what halfa this junk is! Shiny though! He iled his arms in exasperation and gestured at our shiny new brewroom.


    I took a slight step away to dodge the stench of onions that wafted off him. It seemed some traditions were universal in Crack, including onion-bearing overbearing Master Brewers.


    Its all brewing equipment. Top of the line. Itll make enough beer to make yer moustache curl! I said.


    Hah! Yer just lucky ya finished it with two weeks ta spare! Ifn half tha tales Master Brewer Malt has been sharin with tha Guild are true, itll do <i>somethin</i> all right!


    We shared augh, though mine was a bit forced. Malt! What were you <i>telling </i>them about us!? Annie and I were going to need to set aside time to visit the Kinshasa Brewers Guild now that construction was done, before it was toote!


    The Guild inspector was visiting to ensure we were ready to represent Minnova for the Octamillenial celebrations. They were just two weeks away, and the energy around the tavern was <i>electric</i>. As soon as he was gone we were going to fire everything up and have our first brew! We couldve just provided the inspector with a fresh beer to prove we were ready, but we really wanted to show off.


    The past three-and-a-bit months were a blur, with <i>unending </i>work to prepare our new Thirsty Goat for prime time. Wed started with gutting the main building and installing a multi-tiered seating area, with arge number of bolted down tables, and a small stage for performances. A stone firece had been set up in the center, providing a nice cozy warmth no matter where you were in the dining room.


    Id managed to convince Annie to put a double hinge on the front circr door for ease of dwarf-tossing. Now it went both ways, just like Freddie Mercury.


    The back furnace and workshop area had been transformed into our new brewroom, and it was full to the brim. We had auter tun, a mash tun, a boiler, a hopback, ten enormous shiny new pressurized fermentation tanks, and more. It looked almost exactly like a modern day brewery, with a chrome finish to nearly every surface. Pipes in the walls lead to a dozen maturation tanks in the basement, wheregers or matured ales could spend a few months before being piped back up.


    This left zero space for an actual kitchen, but Annie hade up with an excellent solution.


    We simply bought out the bakery next door and added it on to the building. Dwarven [Mattershapers] made it as easy as pie, and the previous dwarven proprietor had been more than happy to sell. Hed been worried about all thepetition from the Octamillenial contestants, and had been thinking about leaving town. We provided the gold, and he provided two feet out the door. The bakery was now seamlessly attached to the restaurant area and converted into a well-appointed kitchen, with half the wall between them sted open so patrons could watch the chef at work.


    Bran said he hated the attention, but he also kept <i>posing</i> when he worked recently.


    The hardest part had honestly been all the running around. Between City Hall, tradesfolk, and some basic exploring, I had a <i>lot </i>of new milestones and quests.


    <strong>Quest Complete: Its All About Brew!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Youve created, designed, and built a new kind of brewery!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.4 Charisma! Your new Charisma is 17.8!</i>


    <strong>Quest Complete: Owning Property</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You now own property in the biggest city in the country!</i>


    <i>Gained 0.6 Charisma! Your new Charisma is 18.4!</i>


    <strong>Quest Complete: Fully Explore Kinshasa</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Youve used your new [Map] to fully map your current location.</i>


    <i>Gained 0.4 Vitality! Your new Vitality is 19.4[23.4]!</i>


    <strong>Milestone Gained!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Walking over 800 kilometers under your own power has given you the ability to choose a Milestone!</i><i></i>


    <i>Milestone Chosen: [Long Stride]</i>


    <strong>Stat Increased!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Your Agility has increased from 13.2 to 14.2.</i>


    <strong>New Quest: Cracks Greatest Brewer 1/4</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Take the first step to true greatness! </i><i></i>


    <i>Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.</i>


    <i>Pass the Octamillenial National Brewing Contest Preliminaries: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.6 Charisma, +0.6 Vitality</i>


    [Long Stride] was an overpowered hiking Milestone for day to day life. It increased my Agility by 4 for the purposes of walking, which I did <i>everywhere</i>. It essentially made my travels 1.5 times faster and I loved it to death. Added to my usual 14 Agility, I was now just over twice as fast at power-walking as an Earth human, and it showed!!!


    If theres anything in particr you dont understand, let me know! Id love to talk about it! I piped up, like an apple developer desperate to show off his new ipad.


    The inspector continued hiszy circle around the brewroom floor, but seemed bereft of words. I followed him between some fermentation tanks and had to duck under a little blue elemental that was cleaning the ducts with a jet of steaming water.


    Another big change was the two new workers running the inn side of things. Rosie and Darrel Digger had shown up one week after wed left, hot and ready to fight. Theyd calmed down upon learning that we hadnt kidnapped their erstwhile son, then had a group huddle. They then managed to convince Annie and me with a bit of pushing from Bran to hire them all. Darrel was our new sous-chef, Rosie was in charge of running the inn, and Bando was being Bando.


    Id gently reminded Annie about her speechst year about bringing in too many new people at once, and shed grumbled something about this is all new anyways.


    I could faintly make out the sound of Rosie yelling something at Bando in the pub and it was music to my ears. For once, <i>I</i> wasnt in charge of the chaos that was running the day to day. I could finally focus on my brewing!


    One whole wall of the brewroom was taken up by bottles, and we had to skirt around them. A conveyor belt ran from the stack to a series of ss and metal boxes. I noted the Master Brewer squinting angrily at the dangerous pile; that was a health and safety hazard that Id need to fix.


    Whistlemop had managed to figure out the location of the sspany that used to own this building. Theyd moved to arger nt in Yellowwall, where they were shipping ss to all over Crack. They were located as far away from Deepcore as possible, on the other side of Darkwater Gorge, so they barely had any monster attacks. Theyd provided all the sswork in here, and would be providing our bottles as well.


    Whats this? The Master Brewer asked, running his hands over a pair of <i>very</i> long and wide oblong boxes sitting on top of the conveyor belt.


    Im so very d you asked! I cooed, rubbing my palms together anding alongside him. Im very proud of this. This is the result of a coboration with Engineering Professor Copperpot, Healer Richter, and myself. Its a <i>Nether Infused Bottler </i>followed by a <i>Tunnel Pasteurizer</i>!


    Hoy! Master Brewer Blunt backed up, his eyes wide. Yer usin <i>NETHER </i>in brewin!? Yearns Wrinkly Yams! Are ya mad!!


    Hush, its perfectly safe. It was approved by two senior [Engineers] and even if it loses containment, the worst thatll happen is a strong breeze. Just dont stick your hand in there Dont stick your hand in <i>any</i> machinery. EVER..


    A <i>very</i> strong breeze, but I didnt care. That tunnel had been a masterstroke of genius on Richters part, advised by yours truly, andpleted by Copperpot.


    Itd even gotten Richter a Blessing from Barck. Combined with his Blessing from Archis, hed chosen to be a Titled <i>Healer</i>, muttering something about keeping us all alive. Itd also gotten me a new Milestone and stat boost to boot!


    <strong>Milestone Gained!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Designing a new Arcano-Mechanical Device has given you the ability to choose a Milestone!</i><i></i>


    <i>Milestone Chosen: [Infuse Mana]</i>


    <strong>Stat Increased!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Your Intelligence has increased by 1, your new Intelligence is 17.4!</i>


    Richter hadughed at me for choosing an Ability I couldnt use properly without [Manasight], but once I got [Petes Poor Manasight], we wouldnt need mana stones to run any of the numerous enchantments around the building! Id be a portable mana battery! Maybe one day I could use it to put on a golem suit and go fight crime. Id call myself Mithrilman or Steelman or something else equally non-copyrighted.


    Youll need ta exin it to me. Before I can approve it. Master Blunt grumbled, peeking inside. The sides were made of ss to ensure we could see what was happening, with a conveyor belt running through it. Each end was covered in rubber tabs to prevent foolish fleshy fingers. An important safety feature, among several, because <i>not sticking your hand in working machinery</i> was a hard concept for some people.


    Sure. You know how beer goes bad when exposed to air?


    He gave me a glower. Yes. Im not a <i>journeyman</i>, <i>Brewer</i>.


    Just askin. Well, you might have noticed from the tanks that none of our systems are exposed to the air. The problem was, how ta bottle the beer efficiently without exposin tha beer to oxygen. Our old industrial bottle stick system just wasnt going ta cut it anymore.


    The main way bottles were filled on Earth was a Counter-Pressure Filler. It sted all the oxygen out of a bottle with CO2, then re-pressurized it with beer from the tank. Unfortunately, even with aetherstones, we hadnt figured out an efficient way to do that on Erd. Then Richter had surmised that since the problem was an Aether, why not simply negate it with Nether.


    Nether was an Element on Erd, the Element of that without form, and it epassed the concepts of vacuum, dark matter, and forces. Vacuum Bottle Filling was absolutely a thing on Earth, though not usually on an industrial scale. Vacuum was <i>dangerous</i>. Nether, on the other hand, could be used fairly safely as long as you didnt try to touch it.


    That was all the background. All Blunt needed to know was this. This enchantment fills that entire space with Nether. We dont need to contain it or anything like that, because the enchantment simply fills the <i>box </i>with Nether. A bottle goes in? The air is eliminated, to be reced with Nether. A special nozzle bypasses the enchantment and allows beer in to fill the bottle. The bottle is immediately capped, and exits the box, having nevere into contact with air! Tadah! Oxidation bypassed! And since we no longer needed to do bottle-fermentation, we were using actual bottle caps now!


    Interesting and innovative. I would like ta see yer designs. I was unsure about this Octamillenial thing at first, but this seems to be an incredible advance in brewing, young Brewer.


    Of course! And I meant it too. I eventually wanted every brewery on Erd using these machines. Theyd go a long way to improving the consistency and taste of beer.


    What about this next part? The <i>Tunnel Pasteurizer</i>? Blunt asked, pointing to the next box on the conveyor belt.


    Ah, yes. Let me tell ya the story of <i>Louie Louie</i>. Wow, Richard Berry <i>and</i> Freddy Mercury references in a single sitting? I was on a rock and <i>roll!</i>


    Who?


    Its a long story. Lets go grab a drink in the pub.


    I dont suppose you have any True Brew ?


    .... no.


    Pity.

 Book 3: Chapter 16: Gone to Pasteur

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 16: Gone to Pasteur</h4>


    It turned out that Rosie actually <i>did</i> have some True Brew squirreled away. Our tavern was certainly in good hands with the talented [Innkeeper] at the helm!


    Master Brewer Blunt took a deep drag from his Whistlemug then leaned back with a smack of his lips.


    Ahhhh, Riverside True Brew. Youve got tha good stuff! Ya know they won tha local Octamillenial contest right? Master Brewer Schist is a [Wizard] when ites ta brewin True Brew!


    I choked on my own beer, a tangy liquid gold that Id secretly turned into a radler. WHAT did you say?


    Blunt gave a wide smile, his white moustache dripping wet. Aye, it can be hard tae believe! Master Brewer Schist is an <i>actual</i> [Wizard]! He started as a [Manashaper] and Specialized ta be a [Wizard]! Hes nnin ta see if he can be a [Wizardly Brewer] or summat with his next Specialisation! Hes got some gadgets like yers in his own Brewery, Ive heard tell. Not that Ive seen it!


    No no no, not that part, though thats <i>super</i> cool. His name. What was it??


    Master Brewer Schist?


    I clutched my chest. Ugh, my heart!


    Blunt leaned forward, concern etched in his aged face. You alright, young Brewer?


    His name is <i>actually </i>Shits??


    Blunt frowned. Nay, Schist.


    Shist?


    SChist. Tha c is silent.


    Then how am I supposed to know its there!?


    Its a river rock. What kinda dwarf doesnt know his rocks! Next youll be tellin me ya dont know karst from carts!


    Heughed and I chuckled weakly alongside. I was now truly a dwarf at heart, but I was still woefullycking in certain dwarfy areas. I knew the Ordinances backwards and forwards, I understood the local economy, I even knew the rules to hitball (they were violent), and Id been slowly learning themon flora and fauna, but geology just wasnt a priority yet. To be fair, I had decades of learning to make up.


    I decided to change the subject. The Brewers Guild doesnt have a problem with Master Schist messin with tha True Brew?


    Hmmm Master Brewer Malt told me a bit about yer problems in Minnova. I can tell ya, young Brewer, if youd told me a decade ago that tha Master Brewers of Kinshasa would be tryin new ways of brewin Id have called ya beardless. But Master Brewer Schist has been a respected Master Brewer fer a long time, and with all tha fuss around the contest well, lets just say its nothin close ta what I hear you lot you were doin in Minnova, but weve loosened tha rules a bit.


    Is the guild going to have a problem with us? I asked, in a hushed tone.


    Blunt stared at me, well, bluntly. I cannae deny a little. Yer Guildmaster Malt has been workin hard on yer behalf. Youll need ta thank im. Yer lucky you werent run out o town soon as you came. That Ass-ster is an abomination.


    I couldnt help myself, I grinned. I cant really deny that.


    Hah! At least ya know. But yer Liquid Gold, and Barista Brew especially, have given the Greybeards some pause. Not few o tha families in Kinshasa have sons and daughters in tha Highwatch, and they swear by you. Youve got somethin special, Brewer Pete, and well not be gettin in tha way until ya run yerself headfirst down a grike. At least while the King is still sanctionin this elfin contest.


    Oookay, I didnt know what a <i>grike</i> was, but it sounded like we had permission to y around with True Brew as long as we didnt reach Ass-ster levels of ridiculousness.


    Where <i>is</i> Riverside Brewery? I examined the beer in Blunts Whistlemug. It looked closer to our own New Brew than usual True Brew, with a bit more carbonation and less trub than usual. I could <i>actually </i>see through the mug; not bad.


    Redwall. Near tha docks.


    Ill need to scope em out. How do you like the Whistlemug, by the way?


    Blunt looked askance at his mug. Ach, this? Ive been seein it about town. That Whistlemop has been sellin them out of that garish wagon of his in tha Grand Market. Few o tha Brewers love it. I prefer me metal tankard, meself. Better in a fight.


    I had indeed noticed that Whistlemop was selling mugs again. It was why my influence quest had been ramping up even though we werent selling much beer yet.


    <strong>Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 1,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Dwarves Influenced: 923,000/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Reward: [Petes Poor Manasight]</i>


    What had been a trickle was turning into a flood, and I estimated less than one or two months until I finally had my hands on my own version of Manasight. Hell yeah, magic!! I could hardly wait, and I had a secret n in the works for when I got it. Richter and I had worked out the Sigils, and all I needed was that bloody Ability!


    Blunt and I paused in our conversation to drink and ruminate. A tiny blue elemental carrying a wash-towel wandered by overhead as we sat in silence. The pair of us watched it go, and Blunt snorted. How many Titled have ya got in one tavern?


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Hmmm everyone except Johnson and Bando. That makes it nine, I think?


    Hah! Thats more than tha most expensive inns in Redwall! I hope yer chargin a lot!


    I shrugged. I dunno. Annie and Rosie set the rates. I told them I dont want any part in the inn, just the brewing.


    Blunt barked anotherugh. Aye, good. A [Brewer] should focus on Brewin! And speakin of which, you were goin ta tell me about that other ss box! You were sayin someat about Louie?


    Louis Pasteur, to be precise. Ya know how yeast works, right? Its little micro-organisms that like ta eat sugar and make alcohol?


    Aye. Hah! It was a Doctor here in Kinshasa at Archis University what proved it just a few millenia ago! Werent we surprised! We try not ta think about it too much, its all just Ancestral Seed ta us


    Well, Louis Pasteur was a giant [Researcher]. I managed to get one of his books a while back; he wasnt very wellknown, but he had some interesting ideas. That was a little [White Lie] but I doubted Blunt would follow up. Pasteur theorized that drinks like beer and milk contained not only helpful yeasts, but harmful ones and dangerous bacteria as well.


    Blunt pulled at his beard, interested. Aye, Ive seen a few dwarves get sick on tha True Brew before. We call it Bad Beer.


    I carefully did <i>not</i> say, I think <i>all</i> your beer is Bad Beer, but simply nodded and continued. He designed a process called Pasteurization, to try and kill off the bugs that cause Bad Beer. By keeping beer, or milk, or any other kind of drink at a temperature of sixty degrees for about twenty minutes, youll eliminate most things that cause spoge. It also kills any yeast in the bottle, which will prevent autolysis.


    Blunt had his brewing journal out at this point and was taking notes. My estimation of him went up a notch; a lot of Master Brewers were too proud of their white hairs to take notes.


    Whats autolysis? He asked, underlining something in the journal.


    Hmm ya know how some True Brew can start ta taste a little meaty, or stinky if you leave it in the keg for too long?


    Blunt frowned. Ya mean <i>all</i> True Brew? Aye, thats why we cant ship Kinshasa beer much further than Minnova, and inns cant keep it fer more than a few weeks.


    Thats autolysis. Its caused by tha yeast in the beer dyin off, then breakin down in a specific way. Pasteurization kills off tha yeast <i>and </i>the autolyticpounds, which has the added benefit of preventing any idental off-vours from bottle-fermentation too.


    Blunt stood bolt upright, his pic bench ttering to the ground behind him. Would would that increase tha shelf life of tha beer!?


    I grinned, sharkline. Absolutely.


    Blunt immediately started towards the Brewroom. I need ya to show me! If this is true Brewer Peter, half tha Masters in the Guild would give their beards to ya!


    I followed after, smirking. Annie and I had talked long and hard about giving the inspector the full rundown of our brewing equipment. Wed eventually decided that opening uppletely and presenting our new technologies as a gift was our best bet a technique that had worked very well in Minnova. We had no <i>real </i>reputation in Kinshasa yet, so a goodwill show of <i>technical </i>innovation would go a long way towards cementing our rtionship with the local Brewing Guild. Hopefully before they came to hate us for our <i>beer</i> innovation. First impressions and all that. I''d need to talk Blunt into letting <i>us</i> present this all to the guild.


    In the long run, I really wanted everyone using this technology anyways, especially our enchanted machines. That Nether Infused Bottler (NIB) wouldve been a Godsend back on Earth!


    Back in the brewroom, Blunt had his journal out and was for the first time actually drawing out ouryout. Ya told me about tha mash anduter tuns, I understand em but arent sure Id want em. No enchantments on thauter tun, I see. How are ya heatin it?


    There actually <i>is</i> an enchantment, you just cant see it from here. Theres a HERM, thats a Heat Exchange Recircting Mash System hidden inside that heats everything to a specific temperature. Thats just a fancy way of saying heated pipes and a pump. It was also going to cost a small fortune in Mana Stones until I had [Infuse Mana]. At least our pumps and mill were still dwarf powered, since precision didnt matter as much there.


    Why not just use tha standard boil-kettle?


    Temperature control. With a mage on staff, its possible to keep it at a precise level and avoid hot or cool spots.


    Makes sense. You usin somethin simr fer yer odd boilkettle there?


    He pointed at our shiny chrome boil kettle. Rather than the standard cauldron on a tform above a fire, we had a squat wide thing right at ground level.


    Aye, though the enchantment there heats the entire kettle. That shape is better fer an even boil, and theres a pump system set up ta move it to the hopback there. The hopback keeps any leaves or bits from tha bittering agent, and removes other trub that contaminates tha brew. It also sh cools the brew with that enchantment there and cleans out the hot break. Thats how our New Brew is made, and I suspect that Riverside uses somethin simr fer their True Brew.


    Blunt scribbled in his journal a bit longer. Har! If this is tha secret to how Schist makes his Octamillenial True Brew, hes gonnae here and yank yer moustache off!


    I held my hand protectively over my mouth. Let hime and <i>try!</i>


    He might! Now, show me that Tunnel Pasteurizer!


    We walked over to the tunnel that was next on the conveyor belt after the NIB. It looked almost identical, with hoses running to it and simr safety features to prevent questing fingers.


    Did ya design it yerself? How does it work?


    Actually, Inventor Goldstone designed it. I just gave her the science. And it had resulted in a Milestone for her too! Barck handed out a quick Milestone for your first invention to help drive Innovation, which was how Id gotten my [Infuse Mana]. That didnt apply to <i>food</i> or <i>drink</i>, which made a small amount of sense, but felt unfair. The tunnel willpletely fill with bottles from the conveyor belt, and theyll slowly shuffle forward until theye out the other end. It works by pouring scalding hot water over the bottles for the twenty-odd minutes it takes them to shuffle through.


    Doesnt that slow things down?


    Hmmm a little, but its worth it.


    Blunt made another note. Are there any downsides?


    Sure. Pasteurization can cause staling, that is aging of the beer. If you don''t properly prevent oxygen froming in contact with the beer, or are brewing something sensitive to aging, it can change the taste.


    So its not all gold then. Dunno if I''d be happy with tha taste of me True Brew changin...


    Whats gold without pyrite to make it precious?


    Hrm. Anythin else?


    Nope, that''s about it. We have a line heater to pasteurize beer for kegs. The next step is just packaging and shipping, and that''s all by hand still. Maybe one day we''ll get a golem for it.


    Blunt snapped his journal shut. You''ve given me a lot to think about Brewer. Would ya be williin toe share yer first batch with tha Guild and teach all this?


    I smiled wolfishly, Absolutely, Master Blunt.


    We fist bumped, and Blunt gave me a beaming smile. Then wee tha Guild, and good luck with tha contest! Yer gonna need it!

 Book 3: Chapter 17: A Cozy Dwarf’s Tale

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 17: A Cozy Dwarf''s Tale</h4>


    Tomorrow was it. Opening day.


    Wed brewed our first batches over the past few days, but they wouldnt be ready in time. So, at great expense wed transported in our <i>own</i> beer from Minnova, just to ensure we were opening on time.


    I sat in my loft cave-cubby in my room in the pitch dark and contemted. Before, I wouldve been nervous; there was so much that could go wrong for a big event like this. We could have <i>riots </i>if past experience held true, or have the city show up at thest minute and tell us we werent up to code. Between the ultra-traditionalists and those driven wild by barista brew or liquid gold, some level of violence was nearly guaranteed.


    And yet I was <i>looking forward to it</i>. I nced down at my hand, which was gripping the Goldstone family warhammer forfort. The thought of knocking in some heads no longer terrified me, and my heart was racing with the anticipation of tossing a ne''er-do-well through my cant-believe-its-not-a-hobbit door. If and when there was a brawl tomorrow, I wouldnt be hiding under the tables, I would be wading into the thick of things.


    Between [Regeneration], [Thick Hide], and my high Vitality a little lower now that my [Blessed] Condition had worn off, but still high it would take quite a lot to permanently injure me. Plus, we had Richter as a [Healer] now. I suspected Opal was going to be in for a surprise when I didnt run behind her skirts like I had back at the mine. Id just need to make sure to keep my Red Rage in check.


    I chuckled darkly to myself. This was merely one of a dozen things Id noticed ever since Id finished that hidden quest. I was no longer scared of the dark, and being underground feltforting instead of ustrophobic. I found myself obsessing over my beard more often, and feeling morefortable in my armour. I was fully a <i>dwarf</i> now, but at least I still had my human drive.


    The dwarven predilection to taking things safe and slow had to be abination of culture and a long life rather than biology. From what Id seen, experimentation was donergely by young dwarves before their third century. Unfortunately, young dwarves didnt have much political power, so their youthful innovation was burnt out by the time they could really aplish anything. Gnomish culture, with its more egalitarian whatever makes me money outlook seemed to have an advantage there.


    A knock at my door broke me out of my thoughts.


    Aye?


    Pete, Its Johnsson. Were about ta hit the bath. Want to join us?


    Hmm sure.


    I hopped out of the loft, tossed off my armour, threw on a towel, and opened the door. Johnsson gave me a big grin as I stepped out. Hed dyed his beard again, and was now rocking a fiery red doo, with graduated orange to yellow tips. When he ran around doing errands in the tavern, the beard whipped around like actual mes. It was a neat effect. Wed grown quite a bit closer since my big reveal, and hed gotten it done during one of our bi-monthly trips to the beardy parlour.


    Whosing? I asked, as we walked through the tunnels beneath the manor house.


    Kirk, Richter, Bando and Balin are already there.


    Annie and Aqua?


    Both busy. Aqua got a patient fer counseling, one of Berrys workers, and Annie is doing somest minute paperwork at City Hall.


    I grumped. Hrmph, Aquas almost at Berrys more than with us recently.


    Johnsson shrugged. Now that the brewrooms done, its mostly just movin stuff around, and we only really need Kirk for that.


    Kirk was truly a Godsend, though hed beenining that his skills were being underutilized. Since wed arrived in Kinshasa, everyone but him and Johnsson had either gotten a Blessing or Milestone, and he was feeling left out. Hopefully with the tavern opening that would change. He only needed one more Milestone to Specialise, so it would be a momentous event.


    As we walked into the room I took a deep breath of the steamy air and felt back to that inner peace.


    The sauna/bath was arge room in the manor basement. Wed expanded it out to be big enough for a good ten to fifteen dwarves to fit in at a time, with a permanently heated hot-spring powered by magic. It was straight up out of an anime, or my wildest vacation hotspot dreams. Water poured out of a goose-head faucet set in the wall into anically wide and waist deep pool. Why a goose head? Because on Erd, geese were mythical creatures with a deep affinity to water Aether, like a watery phoenix. Go figure. As far as my past experiences with Canadian Geese were concerned, their only <i>affinities </i>were rage and violence.


    A series of buckets and drains to the side of the bath were meant for washing beard and body, while an alcove above the bath served as a wet-sauna. It was uni-sex, and the whole n regrly just soaked in it to rx after a long, hard, day.


    Some of them even used soap when I yelled at them.


    Kirk gave a cheery wave as we walked in. He was chatting with Bando about what it was like in the human kingdoms. Balin was half-asleep in the sauna after another day of dungeon test preparation, and Richter was meditating under the goose-faucet, the water pouring onto his head.


    I toed into the steaming hot water and immersed myself up to my waist; it was <i>glorious</i>. I sighed in contentment and closed my eyes.


    Johnson wandered over with a bucket and began scrubbing his hair at the edge of the tub. He looked a little pensive as he asked, How do ya think it''ll go tomorrow, Pete?


    Nervous?


    Aye.


    I think we''ll be fine; weve already done two grand openings. Once when we opened the brewpub, and again for the barista brewunch. I suspect it''ll be like theunch, but a bit smaller. Nothing we can''t handle.


    Johnson''s cloudy expression failed to clear. But we had Berry and Copperpot''s crew to help out that time, and they''re busy.


    Over the past three months, Berry had sessfullyunched her band in Kinshasa, and was now doing performances once or twice weekly in Redwall. The magic of pure undiluted talent and extrovertism, I supposed.


    Copperpot had his new gnomish barista brew factory well in hand as well, and our subsidiary brewery legal fiction was working just as well here as in Minnova. At least, it had to be, since we hadnt been attacked by any freaking gnomish ninjas this time. And not a peep from the local Brewer''s Guild.


    I suspected that Malt was the reason everything was going so smoothly, and I was really going to have to thank him. We had a newly furnished room ready for him in the inn, but hed insisted on staying at the Guild instead. Maybe I could bring him some of those bimbleberry tarts he liked so much.


    I stretched my toes and sunk down to let my beard and flowing umber locks float out in the water while I considered what to tell Johnson.


    We have the Diggers to help, along with Darrel''s elementals. Plus, we''re just one of many local taverns. I doubt itll be too crazy. Ill be happy if we even fill half our tables. I finally managed.


    Johnsson sighed, nodded and focused in earnest on cleaning his beard.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the vition.


    Iid down fully on my back and closed my eyes, floating in my own warm little world. This moment of rxation would be over soon, and what would probably be the most hectic year of my second life the year 8000 was about to begin. Wed decided to coincide our opening with the new-years celebrations, since everyone was out partying that night anyways. May as well get them to party at the new ce for the new year, eh?


    I couldnt <i>wait</i>. The Thirsty Goat would be open for business once more!


    Johnsson red at me from where he was clearing tables at breakneck speed. Hed probably shouted something acerbic too, but it was lost as the crowd toasted Crack and Kinshasa for the umpteenth time this evening.


    The tavern was packed to the brim, and practically every song ended with raucous cheers as Kirk grabbed another drunk with terrible pitch and gave them a <i>terrific</i> pitch. Nyuk.


    Over four hundred people, and there were <i>more</i> in the street outside. My influence quest was ramping through the roof. Where were all these dwarves <iing</i> from!?


    The volume ratcheted up as the [Bard]s bagpipes erupted with fire, and he began an upbeat song called <i>Years Ta Count Alone</i>. It sounded a bit like a quick-paced Irish Rovers number from back home, with the audience ying the drums on the tables and following along with the chorus.


    <i>Its gettin dark, yer crews gone home,</i><i></i>


    <i>Leavin ya minin all alone.</i><i></i>


    <i>You only need another year,</i><i></i>


    <i>Tiara knows yer fortunes near!</i>


    <i>Are ya still in that Yearn durned hole?</i><i></i>


    <i>You''s a dwarf, or a mangy mole?</i><i></i>


    <i>Git yer silver, and get yer gold,</i><i></i>


    <i>Thene and live before yer old! </i>


    <i>[Insert bagpipe riff]</i>


    <i>A thousands a lot,</i><i></i>


    <i>If all youve got,</i><i></i>


    <i>Are years ta count alone!</i><i></i>


    <i>So swing your pick,</i><i></i>


    <i>And flick yer wick,</i><i></i>


    <i>Hammer tha rock and stone!</i>


    <i>[Insert drumming and cheering]</i>


    <i>Lay down yer work, wherever yare!</i><i></i>


    <i>And grab a seat in yer favourite bar!</i><i></i>


    <i>Toast to tha n and toast ta Crack,</i><i></i>


    <i>Another year youll not get back!</i>


    <i>So now well cheer, a brand new year!</i><i></i>


    <i>Now raise yer mugs, and drink yer beer!</i><i></i>


    <i>Ya dont know where yer tankard is?</i><i></i>


    <i>Knock out yer neighbour and take his!</i>


    <i>[Insert bagpipe riff]</i>


    <i>A thousands a lot,</i><i></i>


    <i>If all youve got,</i><i></i>


    <i>Are years ta count alone!</i><i></i>


    <i>So swing your pick,</i><i></i>


    <i>And flick yer wick,</i><i></i>


    <i>Hammer tha rock and stone!</i>


    The tavern rocked with cheers as the song ended, and the [Bard]unched into the extremely recognizable and bawdy <i>Twa Bearded Lady</i>.<i></i>


    <i></i>


    Annie caught my eye from across the tavern and waved, then gave me a thumbs up. An elemental drifted overhead carrying a tray of drinks, and from where I was situated near the front window I could barely make out Rosie dwarfhandling some unconscious patrons out the side door to the inn. Through the opening in the wall to the kitchen Bran was swearing up a storm as Darrel passed food to Bando as fast as dwarvenly possible. In a distant corner, Richter was using [Regenerate Other] on a customer''s broken nose. Everyone was busy, busy.


    The night had begun with a line forming four hours before opening. Happy, curious, chatty dwarves wearing their good armor and reminiscing about the past year had stretched from our door out to Main Street. A small number of them were even holding bottles of Ass-ster or Liquid Gold, or carrying Whistlemugs. That had been our first warning that something was up. Then the line had turned into a <i>crowd</i>, and then a <i>mob</i>.


    Aqua ran up alongside me out of breath as I cleared another table. Pete! Its not just us!


    I''d say so! I''m workin hard here and yer just runnin'' around?? Where''s the justice in that!?


    What? No, Opal and I just came back from buying Bran more ingredients. This is happening <i>everywhere</i>. Theres so many people in the city right now that there arent enough ces for everyone to celebrate the new year!


    I grunted nomittally. More gold fer us, but its not really a <i>good</i> thing when all the inns are full. Thats how you ya get messiahs, and air BnBs.


    Aqua gave me a nk look then shook her head. We only have enough beer for another hour at this rate. Theres almost definitely going to be a riot.


    I pointed to where Kirk had stored another dwarfs clothes into his storage and was swinging the naked unfortunate around overhead by their ankles. No there wont. Kirk has em all wrapped round his big little finger, and Balin is guarding the door.


    My [Sense Emotions] is going <i>crazy</i>. If you think <i>Kirks </i>going to stop a couple hundred high-strung drunken dwarves desperate for more Liquid Gold


    That and my [Bottomless Barrel] evolved an hour ago. I grinned, and Aquas eyes lit up.


    Ahhh! Thank Barck, thats amazing timing! What is it! What does it do now!


    Because I was always using it to its max duration, it evolved into [Extended Bottomless Barrel], so itsts longer. I can make a single drink bottomless pretty much permanently now. Well only be able ta do tha Liquid Gold, since Barista Brew and Ass-ster are slightly magical, but that should be enough fer this crowd!


    Aquas shoulders sagged in relief. Phew. Good. We <i>just</i> finished building this ce, and I couldnt bear to see it get wrecked the first night!


    Eh. Im just d it wasnt a flop.


    Do you think itll be like this every night? Aqua asked, biting her lower lip and wincing as a couple dwarves in the uniform of a mining crew hopped up and began crowd surfing.


    I shuddered; I couldnt <i>stand</i> being lifted up anymore, it activated some kind of primal terror reaction in me. Im pretty sure this is a one off fer tha new year. Its a <i>big</i> new year, and were a pub <i>specifically</i> here fer the Octamillenial. Thats why we have that fancy big certificate there. I pointed to a ce on the wall where a piece of paperrger than a gnome dered us a Kings Competitor for the Octamillenial.


    Annie had received the official looking document, along with instructions in one of her many recent trips to city hall. For the next month, secret drinkers would be visiting all the Brewers that had won their local regionals. They would then confer to decide on the top sixteen. Same for the chefs, cksmiths, hitball teams, and whatever otherpetitions there were; there were a lot.


    The reward for winning one of the contests was a lot of gold, and dwarven nobility. I only really wanted to do well enough to entice Barck''s avatar down for our bet, but Annie had been really, <i>really</i>, excited by the news. Bran too.


    If simr scenes were happening all over the city this year was going to be even more intense than Id feared.


    As I thought that, a grumble of dwarves in one of the raised sections began to fight, and the brawl quickly spread. The weapons were mostly metal tankards and fists at this point wed left the good Whistlemugs away for tonight so it was probably all in good fun. Still, better to stamp it down before it got <i>too </i>rowdy.


    I nodded at Balin across the room, and we began to move in. I lifted my trusty warhammer and we bellowed as one, Fer Crack and Annie!


    Over at the bar, Annie shrieked, DONT START THAT AGAIN!!!

 Book 3: Chapter 18: Pink, Red, and Silver

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 18: Pink, Red, and Silver</h4>


    The fix was in: Our beer was incredible, the ambiance was electric, and the tosses were sky high. A [Healer] and [Innkeeper] on staff was just the cherry on top. Two dayster, our numbers were still good, but much more manageable. We even had a few people staying in the inn!


    With the Diggers running things, the rest of us were free to start doing some brewing, so thats what we did.


    Annie had out her brewing journal as she called the brewroom to order. Alright everyone. I wanted to open by saying good work. It looks like things have calmed down, and were now in the long haul. Richter, thank you again for Titling as a [Healer]; that has been a major draw for visitors to the inn.


    There was a general murmur of agreement, and Annie waited for silence before continuing.


    For todays agenda, Johnsson and Kirk finished moving the batches of Liquid Gold to the maturation tanks, and Copperpot has agreed to add the dwarven Barista Brew to his own brew line. Since we only need a couple tanks of Ass-ster and New Brew, that leaves us an opportunity to experiment!


    I felt a sh of warmth in my heart at her words. Last year a conversation like this wouldve been hush-hush, if not unthinkable, but now we were openly discussing making changes to the Sacred Brew!


    She turned and looked at me, then cleared her throat. Pete has dibs on at least one or two of the fermenters for his sorghum beer. What did you call it Pete?


    Umqombothi.


    .... thats unpronounceable, give me something better.


    What did I know that was pink? The only things that came to mind were my daughters rainbow sea of toys. Howsabout Pinkie Pie? I asked.


    Aqua and Johnsson gagged in unison, then looked at each other andughed.


    Annie gave me a ck look. I cant believe that with all your word ys you cante up with something clever.


    Word ys are the best kind of ys! Even better than Shakespeare!


    Can we get started? Richter interrupted. Id like ta get this all done before de dinner rush, aye? Mebbe ave time ta study a new spell Im workin on.


    Annie and I glowered at each other, then turned away.


    Fine, Annie grumbled, Pete has one fermentation tank to make his Um-whatever, and I want to try something new with our bittering agent. Weve changed a lot of things on Petes say-so, but this is my own idea. Pete, you can make yours first, I have a list of ingredients Ill need Aqua to get before I get started. But Ill repeat that you only get two tanks, Pete! The rest are mine!


    I perked up at that. Oooh! Are we finally changing that awful guck!


    Annie frowned. Yes, yes. Maybe now youll shut up about it.


    Not until you tell me what it is!


    Annies frown turned into a blinding grin. Ill take it to my grave! Youll never know!


    I shook my fist, Yearn take yer soul to tha Nether!


    Aqua hopped up from her seat, Alright, if Im heading out into that mass of bodies that is the Grand Market, Ill need to leave right away. Gimme that shopping list.


    Annie handed her a slip of paper and Aqua skipped out the door with a dismissive gesture to the rest of us.


    Annie nodded. Thats it for me. Do you need me for anything, Pete, or can I go start working on tax paperwork.


    I groaned. Is it that time? Am I going to get audited <i>again</i>!?


    At least we can be miserable together. With the tavern, and the Goat now spanning two cities and subsidiaries on top of that, were getting an audit too.


    Hah! That does make me feel better. Misery lovespany.


    Annie headed to our office, a small ss-enclosed room adjoining the brewroom, just like in Minnonva.


    Johnsson rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Well Pete, whatre we goin to make first?


    I grinned. Id been waiting for this moment for <i>three freaking months</i>! Im proud to say that I managed to find a local malt-house thats willing to y around with malting something other than erdroot <i>Main Malt Malthouse</i>.<i></i>I gave them the grass-lions mane and some killer corn, andst week they reached out to notify me that theyd finally figured out how to properly malt it. The first batches were pretty expensive, but they said its not that bad, and theyre happy to provide bulk malting services or cheaper in the future.


    Are ya buyin da malt house? Richter asked. I know you were tinkin about dat.


    I sighed. The malt houses in Kinshasa are all a bit too big and old, with too much history. I looked, but there was nothing we could easily afford. Especially with the extra cash we had to front for this ce. I expect to have enough <i>eventually</i>, but with M&M&M agreeing to provide malting services I dont know if it''s even necessary. Seriously, the local malt houses are <i>huge</i>.


    Soooo? Johnsson drew out the question.


    So, Kirk? I turned to our big friendly giant.


    Aye, aye, bossman. Kirk saluted andid out his hand. Severalrge crates popped out of his [Storage] and onto the floor. Two crates of Sorghum malt and two more of corn, just like you asked!


    Excellent. Richter, if you and Johnsson could please start milling those, and dump the grist in the boil kettle when youre done.


    Not in tha tuns?


    Nope! Its made quite a bit differently!


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any urrences.


    Yer tha boss.


    That I am!


    As Richter and Johnsson began singing their gristing song, I pulled out my brewing journal. Id copied my old Earth version down so I wouldnt need to keep calling it with [Petes Miniature Rememberce], and this new one had both my old earth notes and my new dwarven brewing notes in it. I flipped to the entry on Umqombothi and hummed and hawed.


    Real umqombothi used maize meal instead of malted corn, though some craft versions did split them. It would be interesting to see how my own creation here differed from what Id tried in the past. The traditional boil kettle was called a potjie, and was just a in kettle over a fire, but our fancy brew kettle would work just as well.


    The big problem was that our setup was designed to go through a mash step, but umqubothi was supposed to ferment the mash <i>before</i> removing the grist. Essentially, our setup was out of order, so I was going to need to reroute some pipes, or at least mess around with stuff.


    Pete! Millin is done! Johnsson shouted, breaking me from my thoughts. Right in tha brew kettle? Not in tha tun??


    Aye!


    What followed was a lot of grunting and swearing as Johnsson and Richter tried to figure out how to maneuver all the grist through the hatch on top of the kettle. Kirk and I watched, grinning like loons for a moment, before Kirk went to use his Abilities to transfer the grist into the tank.


    Johnsson pumped in some water, Richter fired up the runes, and the mix of corn and sorghum was soon bubbling away. The brew-kettle had a viewing window, and we peered inside. The inside looked more like oatmeal than beer.


    d Annie isnt here ta see this Johnsson chuckled. Shed freak. This is gonna be a pain to clean.


    I shrugged. Meh, well just get the elementals to do tha hard work.


    Whats da next step? Richter asked,ing up alongside to peek into the kettle. Ugh, looks worse dan me mums groats.


    Well let it boil here for a couple minutes, then leave it overnight. In a day or two, when it starts bubbling and showing signs of fermentation, we boil it again then add a bit more grist and some sugar and send it to the fermentation tank with some ancestral seed.


    If its overnight, then Annie wont be able to do her new brew today Johnsson gave me a look.


    I returned it. Maybe if she didnt tease me about the bittering agent so much, I wouldnt be so <i>bitter</i> about it.


    But tha fermenters arent set up fer solids. Richter said, looking over at the shiny new tanks. De hopback is <i>before</i> them.


    Yep, which gives us about a week to get a [Mattershaper] out here to bend some pipes to reroute back to the filters. And theyre gonna be a <i>pain</i> to clean.


    Not <i>more</i> construction. Johnsson muttered.


    Big moustached baby. I sniffed.


    That evening we had some special surprise visitors.


    It wasnt busy enough that I needed to help, so I was sitting at a table in the raised area doing taxes alongside Annie. We were trying to figure out how to proportion our ie between Minnova and Kinshasa when a rowdy group of a dozen dwarves burst through the doors and sat themselves around the central firece. Bando was at their side a momentter, taking orders.


    From where we were sitting, I could clearly see all their faces, and I gasped as I recognized two of them. Sam and Drum!


    Sam! Drum!! I called, waving my arm. Annie nced up, huffed at the distraction, and went back to her taxes.


    Sam spotted me and beamed, then smashed Drum in the back of his head to catch his attention. Drum went to punch back, saw me, smiled, and <i>then</i> punched Sam in the stomach.


    Ah, they hadnt changed a bit.


    I stood to join them, but Sam waved for me to sit, and he and Drum headed up. Drums silver arm was currently hidden under a long sleeve and glove, and his eyepatch was red instead of ck now. His beard was also apletely different style, and greyer than I remembered.


    Sam, you old goat! Its been a long time! We fist bumped, and the two took a seat across from me. Drum gave a small shiver as he looked at the tax paperwork. Hows it goin? Still hanging with this fugitive? You know hes a wanted dwarf, right? I pointed at Drum, who frowned at my finger.


    Bah! It was worth it! Drum grumbled. Id do it again any chance I got!


    During the regional Octamillenial contest, Drum had spiked the <i>Rusty Battleaxe</i>s<i></i>beer with some kind of alchemical agent, and it had caused Lord Louis ckbeards entire body to erupt with hair. Hed been a wanted dwarf ever since, for assault on nobility. The punishment was time in actual jail, not just a reform mine.


    I dont want any trouble. Annie hissed, ncing up. Youd better not bring the guard down on us!


    Drum and Sam nodded, their eyes wide and innocent. Annie snorted, clearly not buying it.


    I have to ask. I whispered, drawing closer to the two. I heard that ckbeard disappeared. Was that you two?


    Sam and Drum shared a look, then nced around the tavern. Right now it was just their group, and a pair of blonde dwarves having a drunken date on the opposite side from us.


    Drum spoke up first, whispering. ckbeard had a bit of a <i>run in</i> with us, aye. Was a happy ident, actually. We were hittin that Ambermine fellow Copperpot put us onto, and he happened to be with ckbeard.


    I felt my eyebrows pop to the top of my head, and my vision started going red. I tamped it down. ckbeard was working with Ambermine!? He was practically <i>begging</i> us<i></i>to work for him, and he was trying to off us at the same time!? You were right, Drum! Nobles are fu goat shite!


    Drum frowned. Hrmm not quite, though ckbeard <i>is</i> fu shite. Cannae say more about it, but tha beards a lot longer than it looks. Were on workin terms with ckbeard now, and Ambermine


    I still think he shoulda let me gut that gnome like a fish. Sam snapped.


    Ambermines on a short leash. And not happy about it. If hees near you, feel free ta do yer worst, Drum finished.


    Ambermines <i>here</i>, in Kinshasa!? I jumped to my feet. Thest time Id seen the gnomish assassin, hed been trying to turn Copperpot into sashimi.


    Drum nodded. Aye. We came ta warn you two. Things are goin ta be rough in tha city fer tha next few months. So you always go out with that big golden brother of yers, and make sure yer armed at all times. This is a good spot youve chosen, defensible. He looked around the tavern, and indicated the front window. Youll want iron shutters fer that. Mebbe get some enchantments fer tha walls if ya can afford it. Ill send some gold yer way.


    Annie sucked in her breath. That bad? But everythings so festive!


    Drum and Sam nodded.


    Big things are happening, Sam said, the city is crackin'' down ta prepare fer tha contests and celebrations, and summa tha local gangs are pushin back hard. Then theres tha refugees and general discontent about tha high cost of all this. Taxes are goin up, monster attacks are up, and blood pressures are up. Its not spread outta Yellowwall yet, but itlle through here eventually.


    Aye, so you stay safe. And if ya need ta contact me, just put out an adventurin board request fer a red rabbit.


    I snickered. What if someone actually brings us a red rabbit?


    Sam grinned. Eh, then we can roast it when we meet. You stay safe out there, meboy. Between Malts hard work, tha contests, and tax season, tha Master Brewers are too busy ta worry about you. But soon as theres Ass-ster bein made in Kinshasa, they''ll show up right quick. And theyre not like Minnovas soft bunch. Theyll hit you hard, and where it hurts. Be careful.


    Any more friendly advice? I asked, raising one eyebrow sardonically.


    Drum nodded. Aye. Keep to yer brewin and dont get involved with anythin else.


    I''ll try, but no promises.


    With that, the two said polite farewells, then made their leave to go and sit with their party again.


    Annie and I watched them go, then looked at each other, trepidation clear on our faces. What had we gotten ourselves into?

 Book 3: Chapter 19: No Peeking

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 19: No Peeking</h4>


    From the Diary of Peter Roughtuff


    <strong>5th Day of the 1st Month, 8000, Greetings from the past!</strong>


    Hello Diary!


    Im back! I havent written in a long time because, well, Ive been happy talking with my friends and living life. When Im not stuck in a reform mine, I dont have much time to do stuff like write long form in a book.


    But with everything going on, I figured Id put some things down for posterity. For my eventual grandchildren to look back on! That, or collect evidence for when someone finds my body beard down in an alley.


    Call me sappy. Call me sentimental. Call me corny.


    Just dont call mete for dinner.


    <strong>6th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Also, dont call me Shirley.</strong>


    The Octamillenial is in full swing, and now that things are calmer with the brewery, Im actually going out and enjoying things.


    I checked out some of the other Octamillenial contests today, like the cooking contest and cksmithingpetition, and there was some crazy stuff. ming swords, incendiary muffins, weird alloys made withbinations of monster parts and fantasy metals, and one cksmith who was using aplicated piece of gnomish engineering to run his entire forge.


    <i>That one</i> had a picket line outside of it. The local cksmiths guild was very, deeply unhappy about the loss of jobs and apprenticeship opportunities afforded by the setup. They imed it was undwarven, unfair, and unbelievable.


    It was bucking tradition enough that I had to wonder if the [cksmith] was another Chosen. I resolved to check it out.


    We still havent had a simr protest outside of our tavern. We <i>have</i> had a few hardliners show up and swear up a storm before getting the toss, and even a <i>noble</i> at one point. The noble had been a touch and go until Opalde running over and handled it. We were lucky that she was there.


    I dont really know what I want to do about it. Liquid gold and barista brew seem to be flying under the radar, with barista brew especially gaining some very staunch defenders. Ass-ster continues to be the sticking point, and I suspect any attempts at introducing radlers will be as well. Nobodys buying New Brew, and were considering removing it from the menu.


    Hard choices.


    <strong>8th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Spy Kids.</strong>


    My crack spy team, one Bando Digger joined by Penelope, reported no unusual Blessing activity or odd behaviours from the aforementioned cksmith or his apprentices. Apparently hes been doing simr stuff in his smithy in a small town south of Kinshasa for over 100 years.


    <i>Probably</i> not a Chosen then. Just a genius, or kook.


    <strong>10th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Spy Kids.</strong>


    There was a Dungeon Break at Deepcore Dungeon. A lot of injuries and destroyed houses, but enough adventurers were around that nobody died. Richter went out to help heal the wounded.


    A lot of angry muttering in the tavern tonight


    <strong>12th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Brewings a Racket.</strong>


    We cracked open the Umqombothi and then racked it. I really didnt want to contaminate our bottle racking system, so we just stuck some barrels under the tap. Sure, there would be some oxidation, but we were just going to drink it all right away.


    It tasted fine. Since it doesnt use a bittering agent it was <i>way</i> better than the regr Sacred Brew to me, anyway. It was pretty sour, with an aftertaste cornier than my sense of humour. The crew didnt like it - they imed it was mouth-puckering, and Penelope refused to drink more a death sentence for Thirsty Goat beer. Interestingly, <i>Whistlemop</i> adored it, as did every other gnome that tried it. I sent the recipe to Copperpot to add to our gnomish subsidiary brews. Theyre nning an incredibly garish pink, green, and yellow bottlebel, and want Raspberrysyrup tounch it to finally tie them together.


    His loss. The umqombothi was an absolute horrorshow to clean out of the brewing works, even with elementalbour.


    <strong>15th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Whatre ya buyin?</strong>


    A shadowy figure all bundled up in rags approached me at the bar today.


    While I was wondering whether to attack first or see what he was selling, he leaned in conspiratorially and asked if I was willing to read over his Secret Brew recipe. Hed heard through the grapevine (probably from a fellow I taught in Gemena) that I was willing to help illicit brewers learn how to brew.


    I read over his journal and took some notes; several of his chosen ingredients were ones I suspected went into the Sacred Brews bittering agent. Then I gave him some advice, taught him about oxidation and the importance of cleanliness, then snuck some Ancestral Seed into a jar for him and sent him on his way.


    Vive beer-volution, one crusty jar at a time!


    <strong>16th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Espionage</strong>


    Ive been scoping out thepetition with Johnsson and Richter this week. Thats right, weve been on a Kinshasa wide pub crawl! Woooo! There are thirty-two breweries in townpeting to win, each from one of the major cities in Crack.


    Thus far Ive actually been impressed. Every singlepetitor seems to be putting their all into it. Did Barck have a hand in this? Or another Chosen? I really do need to keep an eye on everyone involved.


    There were a few standouts, like Comeuppance Brewing, Shimmering Golden Brews, and Southern Crack Ale.


    Riverside Brewery, which was the winner of the Kinshasa contest, was especially good. Their beer had that crisp tang that I associated with a good brew, and they even had something <i>other </i>than Sacred Brew or Light Brew! They called it their <i>Darkwater Brew</i>, and its a dark malt beer! They didnt use dark umber erdroot, so they must roast regr erdroot until its darker than usual before milling.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    It tasted smokey, and had a fairly astringent aftertaste. I didnt really like it, but I had friends back on Earth who would have <i>loved it.</i>


    <strong>17th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Annie are you OK?</strong>


    Annie finished her first experimental batch of brew with a new bittering agent.


    Poor, poor Annie.


    Somehow she made Sacred Brew taste even worse.


    We held a funeral for the batch and then dumped it.


    I wont be surprised if there are reports about dead fish downstream.


    Shes going to keep trying. Good luck!


    <strong>18th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Dagnabbit</strong>


    Raspberrysyrup did a big concert yesterday.


    A big <i>country</i> concert. And the audience <i>LOVED it</i>. Aqua co-starred as her bumpkin, or whatever the hell the kids are calling it these days.


    I weep for the future of dwarven kind.


    Amethyst says that people have started to twig to Berrys magic disys being something <i>special</i>. They were approached by Archis Academy the other day, asking for Berry to present her findings. I hope for Berrys sake that things stay cordial.


    <strong>20th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Wrestlemania</strong>


    I went to watch some wrestling with Johnsson and Richter.


    Honestly, I felt like a bit of a third wheel, but it was still fun!


    The Kinshasa ring is amazing, and would be right at home at the WWE. Though there was a lot more fire than I expected, like the <i>ming moat </i>around the ring!


    It was awesome. My new favourite wrestler is Dwarf Draconis. Hes a burly redbearded easterner who wears a dragon mask and not much else. He looks like a luchadore, and his flyingriat <i>literally</i> flies. Muah! Muy excellente! Id buy him a Corona if it existed, but made do with sending him a keg of liquid gold.


    Oh, and Ive decided to start referring to the wrestlers as Luchadorfs now. Nyuck!


    <strong>21st Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Taxman</strong>


    Im pretty sure that the Beatles legal arm cant reach me in another world, but I wont take any chances, so insert Taxman lyrics here.


    Annie and I got our auditors, one each, and it went more boring thanst time. I already knew what to expect, and our finances had just poured over in preparation for construction of the tavern.


    A pair of dwarves in severe ck armor with silver ents came in, swept through our paperwork, scanned everything with the same [Auditor] Abilities Silverpan had like [Sense Error] then swept back out.


    I was already fully paid up. Huzzah!


    Annie owes an extra 600 gold. Im thinkin of avoiding her for the rest of the month.


    <strong>23rd Day of the 1st Month, 8000: It finally happened</strong>


    Annie and I went to present our new brewroom apparati to the Brewers Guild, and things got a bit out of hand. Half the guild loves the idea of bottles, and of Kinshasa beersting long enough to get to Eastern Crack, and the other half really hates our guts.


    Which was surprising, since I thought wed get zero to start. Malt did great work getting people on our side, but our biggest supporters were Master Brewer Blunt and Master Brewer Schist from Riverside Brewery. The Kinshasa Octamillenial champion was firmly in my camp, and not afraid to threaten the wrath of Barck on anyone that tried to threaten Innovation. He and Malts seniority yed a <i>big</i> part in shutting everyone up, and its been annoying me all day. All you have to do is live 700 years and suddenly everybody just does what you say??


    Well, not everybody. Weve had about a dozen oniony codgers in ck yelling outside our doors for a couple hours now. Hopefully they get bored and go away soon.


    <strong>24th Day of the 1st Month, 8000:</strong><strong>Is this illegal?</strong>


    Two more cloaked dwarves showed up today asking me to look over their brews and beg for some of my Seed. If only they were a pair of lovely beardeddies instead! Hah!


    <strong>25th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Super Secret Shopper</strong>


    Im almost positive that the super secret judges for the first round of the Octamillenial contests came for a visit. It seems that City Hall doesnt really do <i>subterfuge</i> that well, or at least the arm running the contests doesnt. We had a visit from a trio of very somber individuals in those pinstripe gangster suits the nobles favour. They ordered one of every beer, then sat in a corner. They grimly took a few sips from each tankard in turn and wrote down notes that they kept carefully hidden.


    That didntst long. Aqua reported that one of them went nuts over the Liquid Gold, and excitedly yelled at hispanions that we were a shoe-in, easy gold, and exactly what they were looking for.


    So they were either bookies, or we just made it into the second round of the brewing contest.


    Maybe both.


    <strong>27th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: yin tha Bando</strong>


    Bando got arrestedst night. We paid his fines, but hes going to have to do several days ofmunity service.


    Apparently he and his friend Mica newly arrived from Gemena with a contingent of firebrands had done a bit of redecorating in one of Redwalls parks. Namely, they hung posters up everywhere decrying the use of tax funds to trim hedges while people starved just outside of Yellowwall.


    ording to Bando it was for that Harmsson fellow, though they were never officially ordered to do it. usible deniability or youthful overenthusiasm, you decide.


    We let Rosie handle it.


    And honestly I kind of agreed with the sentiment. Though I was seeing Rosie and Sams point about the dangers of getting involved in politics.


    <strong>29th Day of the 1st Month, 8000: Shook.</strong>


    Im still in shock.


    Master Brewer Schist of Riverside Brewery came by today. He weed us to Kinshasa, left us a few kegs of his own beers, and handed me a small barrel of LAGER YEAST!


    Then he sauntered back out, but not before chasing away the grey-robed journeyman brewers whove been protesting outside for the past week.


    As I write this, Annie is sitting beside me just staring into space. Shes going to be the first Goldstone <i>ever</i> to brew Light Brew!


    Our new setup is more than capable of doinggers, since the liquid gold requires the same setup. All we were missing was the proper yeast, and now we have it! Thanks be to Barck and Brewer Schist!


    <strong>31st Day of the 1st Month, 8000: A New Era</strong>


    Anniestest batch of bittering agents is actually <i>good</i>! Its not hops, but I might kind-of-sort-of like it, and more importantly so does everyone else in the brewery! Were thinking well use it for the next phase of the contest as our secret weapon!


    It tastes like freshly cut grass going down, with an aftertaste that reminds me of regr Sacred Brew, but less ass. Its no hops, but itll do for now!


    We celebrated like crazy, and I finallypleted my <i>More Brews</i> quest. It got me some stats AND it counted as a Milestone as well! Hard to believe Ive only managed to create eight new drinks by now, though I know some didnt count, like the brew that shall not be named.


    Only a few dozen thousand left on my dwarven influencer quest too!!!


    Things are definitely moving along.


    <strong>1st Day of the 2nd Month, 8000: The fix</strong>


    is in.


    <i>WERE </i>in! And Bran is in too! The first round of the Octamilenial is done, and the Thirsty Goat is one of the sixteen selected Breweries <i>and </i>Restaurants!!! Ipleted my quest, and got the next tier too! Hallelujah, we won! Ha ha!!! See you in the quarter-finals, suckers!!!

 Book 3: Chapter 20: The Quarterfinals

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 20: The Quarterfinals</h4>


    Pete! I need a clean here! Aqua shouted from across the tavern.


    I groaned from where I was cozied up in front of the fire. Do I <i>need</i> ta? Ask Rosie!


    Shes busy!


    Get Kirk to just store it!


    Just get up, yazy bum!


    Fiiine. I heaved myself out of the cozy chair and made my way to where Aqua was standing over a big spill and a mess of pretzels.


    [Spot Clean]. I grumbled, envisioning the mess as I did so.


    The mess vanished with a *whorp* and a sh of light. I walked over to the bar and with another *whorp* the mess was deposited into the garbage can sitting under the bar. It was my newest Milestone forpleting the <i>More Brews</i> Quest/Milestone. It was super handy, but threatened to turn me into azy slob. It even didundry!!


    <strong>[Spot Clean]</strong> -<i> You seem to have an obsession with cleanliness, let the Gods help! When you use [Spot Clean] you can clean one cubic meter and ce the removed material into a dimensional storage space. You can store up to one cubic meter of Matter, and can eject it at any time.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once per minute.</i>


    It was a great Ability, and definitely more useful than the Ability Id gotten frompleting the 6th level of Gnomish influencer.


    <strong>[Sense Poison]</strong> -<i> You are able to sense poison within food or drink.</i>


    Maybe that would be useful when we won the contest and I became some high and mighty noble. For now, though? Bleh.


    Gnomish Influencer now required the same million as Dwarven Influer, and More Brews was now at level 2, with a much higher reward forpletion this time.


    <strong>Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 7/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 1,000,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 35,530/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: Karmic Reversal x 1</i>


    <strong>Quest: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes dont count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 1/16</i>


    <i>Rewards: +1 Strength</i>


    I <i>still</i> hadnt used my first Karmic Reversal, and wasnt even really sure how. I just knew that it would reverse fate for a moment. At least More Brews was going to ramp right up now that Annie and I were testing a new brew roughly every two weeks. It felt good to be really brewing again!


    I gave Aqua azy salute then made my way up to the raised section where Annie was doing some paperwork.


    Need me for anything?


    She frowned. Do you have 600 gold lying around?


    Hmmmm for an additional 10% stake in the tavern?


    Har, har. Just sit and wait.


    I waited patiently as the tavern was cleared out and Rosie barred all the doors before putting up the closed sign. Bando and the two elementals were set to cleaning up while Richter did a sweep for magical listeners.


    And so it was nearly an hourter that the whole crew, including Opal, Balin, and even Malt this time, were finally seated around our impromptu tavern office waiting for the meeting to begin.


    Why are you here, Malt? I asked, raising an eyebrow. Youve been very circumspect.


    Malt shrugged. Im tryin to y both sides here Pete. It cant look like our beards are braided together, or theyll all ignore what Im sayin bout ya. In this case though, as the Guildmaster of Minnova, it falls within my duties to know what our brewing champion is up to for thepetition.


    Uh huh. Yer just curious about tha next stage.


    Malt nodded vigorously. Oh, aye! Certainly!


    And what <i>have </i>you been saying about us? I noticed that theres been a downtick in protests from the brewers recently.


    Only good things, I assure you. Mostly Im trying to keep them focused on Copperpot. I dont think you realize that youve started a fire there thats garnering a <i>lot</i> of attention. Copperpot and I are managing to heap all the negativity on him, but, Malts voice grew quieter and more serious, if you keep handing out Ancestral Seed, youre going to get in real trouble. That could lose you your license, you know.


    I paled. How do you know about that?


    Malt rolled his eyes. Do ya really think the Brewers Guild doesnt keep an eye on illicit brewers?


    And wait, lose our license?? Theres nothing about that in the Brewers Guild Code!


    Wouldnt matter. The members can give you the boot for any reason with a 64% vote, and youd probably lose under those circumstances.


    Would they really do that? With us in the contest??


    Oh, <i>absolutely</i>! The majority are willin to y wait and see right now, but if you start impingin on their monopoly you can believe theylle down hard on ya!


    Well, <i>that</i> put the kibosh on that. Id need to think of a different way to get people proper brewing yeast.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the vition.


    Then again did I?


    I pondered for a while and activated [sh of Insight]. The germ of an idea was forming in my mind, but I was interrupted as Annie called the meeting to order. She went through our financials, the current state of the menu and finalized our decision to stop brewing new brew in favour of more tanks of liquid gold.


    Everyone pped, and Annie waited for silence before she continued.


    Now, I know what youre all <i>really </i>here for! She held aloft tworge, red-filigreed envelopes and we all cheered. Thats right! We have the instructions for the quarter-finals of the Octamillenial here! For Bran <i>and</i> us! Pete, do you want toe up and do the honours?


    Aye! More than happy to!


    I hopped up and practically tore the pair of envelopes away from her. She gave me a sardonic look and stepped back.


    Alrighty everyone! I know youre all dying to hear about the contest, but I want to rify the format first, I said.


    There was a round of boos, and Johnsson catcalled.


    I continued unabashed, In the previous round it was a free-for-all with secret judges, but this time itll be us versus <i>one </i>other brewery. Well have two months to brew something that meets the required theme, and the popce will have those two months to send a vote to City Hall for whichever of the two brews they prefer.


    Aqua cackled. The whole city? For each pair of contestants? For <i>all</i> the different contests?? Theyll be swamped!


    Good question. Malt, do you know?


    Malt nodded. Aye, theyve made a whole new department of voting to handle all of it. Its quite ingenious actually; theyve set up magical safeguards to ensure everyone only gets one vote and started building these voting booth thingies.


    I was struck by how much that sounded like a modern democratic process, and made another mental note to figure out who was behind all these contests. Between all the <i>change</i>, how much some of the contests resembled modern game shows, and now this, the possibility of them being another Chosen had gone up another tick.


    Surely it couldnt be the <i>king</i>, could it? How in thaher would <i>that</i> be fair!? For now I''d ask Johnsson to start giving me the daily gossip lowdown from city hall; see if I couldn''t connect some dots.


    Richter held up his hand. Dont dese rules give an advantage to da brewery with da first beer?


    I nodded. Yes, yes it does. Were definitely incentivized ta get a new brew out as quickly as possible. Now, fer tha grand reveal, drumroll please!


    There was a pregnant pause before a collective grumble and then drumming of palms on various bits of armor and furniture.


    Thank you. The theme fer tha next round is brew tha most valuable beer!


    After everyone had digested. Aqua was the first one to talk. What kind of theme is <i>that</i>?


    I mean, its better than the brew that most exemplifies a dwarf. Malt put in. That was a nightmare!


    There was general agreement.


    This is just going to be everyone puts gold in the brew again, isnt it? I sighed.


    To be fair, it <i>is</i> via vote. Annie hedged. And we all agree that gold is gold.


    Im not sure that would win. Opal piped up. In a city as big as Kinshasa, gold is gold. Other things hold more value.


    Aye, like ns. Balin said, reaching over to sp Annies hand. She beamed back at him.


    Or knowledge. Richter held up histest textbook.


    Or good socks! Johnsson added unhelpfully.


    Bran held up his hand and I pointed to him. Something valuable to add, Bran? I asked.


    Aye. Yer all wee to think on the theme all you want, but I want to know what Darrel and I will be doin in the kitchen while youre all makin beer that makes you burp, or glow, or somethin.


    We arent I spluttered.


    Just gimme the envelope. Bran held out his hand and I passed it over. *Ahem*, for us lowly [Chefs] the next round is the same as you lot. One versus one with votin and whatnot. We need to make a salty food.


    He blinked.


    We blinked.


    Darrel choked back augh that turned into snickers. You should see yalls faces!


    Like goats to a piper! Rosie guffawed.


    Thats it? I asked, goggling.


    Bran raised one eyebrow Didnt ya read it already?


    No, I wanted ta be part of the fun.


    Well, thats what it says.


    Why salt?? Johnsson asked, sounding as confused as I felt.


    Its Kinshasas main export. Richter said, professorial. They provide salt fer most o Crack. The nearest other salt mines are even farther east than Minnova.


    Aye, Balin added. Just like Greentree Dungeon gives Crack most of its wood and veggies, one o tha first regions o Deepcore Dungeon is Whitehall. Its all white quartz and salt. And tha dungeon keeps makin more.


    Ugh. Kinshasa naming sense was just Whitewall, <i>Whitehall</i>, Darkwater, <i>Deepcore</i>. I could sense a pattern <i>adjectivenoun</i>. Gods, we were Thirstygoat. We fit right in!


    Well, that exins the contest, I said. I <i>did</i> notice all tha food weve been eatin locally was a bit salty.


    And why tha fools kept askin fer more salt in their food! Bran grumped. Woulda thought they''d learn to stop askin the first time I thumped em!


    At least they didn''t ask for ketchup, I sniggered.


    Whuzzat?


    I''ll tell youter.


    Ill be able to help, dear. Opal said, smiling. Ive spent enough time in Kinshasa that I have a good idea of the locals tastes.


    Thats good. Does your letter say who youre against Bran? Annie asked.


    Bran read his letter again. Well be against <i>Eastern Eats</i>. Dunno em. What does yers say?


    I scanned our letter. Well bepeting against <i>Lucky Jeans.</i>


    I dont tink we went there. Did we, Pete? Johnsson asked, frowning. He and I had gone on a pub crawl with Richter to most of the otherpetitors over thest month, but I didnt recall the name.


    No, I dont think so. They may have been one of the breweries in Yellowwall. We never went out there. Hmmm is their name referencing Lucky Jean Herder? Id <i>just</i> been reading about Jean. I suspected he was an ancient Chosen Catalyst and was on the search for more information on him! Wouldnt that be a happy coincidence!


    Sounds like it? Annie said, taking the letter from me to read. I wonder if theyre the brewery from cktar?


    Didnt Jean <i>die</i> in cktar? I asked.


    He had family there, Richter said, Might be rted.


    You think they could be his actual descendants? Kirk asked, his tone incredulous.


    Richter shrugged. Dunno.


    We sat in silence, mulling over that for a while.


    Annie broke in with a thunderous p. Well, no matter if it was Lucky Jean himself, we have a contest to win! Everyone, brainstorm what qualifies as the most valuable beer and well convene another n meeting tomorrow night.


    We all split with various thoughtful expressions, though Bran and Darrel bee-lined to the kitchen discussing excitedly. It was <i>very </ite, but theyd probably be up till morning excitedly cooking.


    Id hit my cave, then take tomorrow to go check out thepetition and consider what would make a vable beer.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: The Octamillenial Part 2/4!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Keep on Winning! You got this! I believe in you!</i><i></i>


    <i>Semifinals Won: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: +1 Intelligence</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Yes, the race was on!

 Book Release: I Ran Away to Evil

    <h4>Book Release: I Ran Away to Evil</h4>


    As some of you may know, my wife and I kind of co-write beers and beards. I bounce ideas off her and she helps edit. At the same time, she''s writing a book series as well here on RR and I help out with it as well. The Title is: I Ran Away to Evil!


    I''m pleased as punch to announce that book one has just hit the interwebs!


    If you''re a fan of Beers and Beards, The Bridgertons, Cozy Fantasy, or Fluffy Romances in general, this is the book for you!


    Her audiobook is even co-voiced by the acimed Johnathan Mcin of Noobtown fame, as well as Laura Horowitz!


    <strong>A reluctant heroine finds unexpected love when shes sent to assassinate a lonely dark lord in the first book of this cozy romantasy series.</strong>


    Stolen story; please report.


    Henrietta Doryn has never enjoyed fighting. Shed rather be in the kitchen baking cookies. But its her duty as Warrior Princess to face off against the forces of evil. As such, shes unceremoniously shooed from her kingdom to go eliminate the all-powerful Dark Lord next door.


    Keith Monfort has never enjoyed ruling with an iron fist. Hed prefer to be in his workroom tinkering with practical magic. But its his duty to lead the Dark Enchanted Forest and the forces of evil. So when Henrietta shows up at his door, hes only too happy to invite her in for tea to talk it out instead.


    Can this unlikely pair prevent war between their two kingdoms? Where do their true loyalties lie? And when will they finally confess their growing feelings for each other?


    Blending the best of love stories, fairy tales, and whimsywith just a dash of mystery provided by the soothsaying Madame Pottss enigmatic announcementsI Ran Away to Evil is a deliciously delightful start to a charming romanticedy LitRPG series.


    The first volume of the hit LitRPG romantasy serieswith more than a million views on Royal Roadnow avable on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and Audible!

 Book 3: Chapter 21: The Human Market

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 21: The Human Market</h4>


    I couldnt concentrate.


    Now that the contest was finally upon us, I was stressing too much to really fit my head around the problem. I had that bet with Barck waiting in the wings, where he would send down an avatar topete with me at a suitably impressive event, and I suspected I needed to get into at <i>least</i> the semi-finals to set that off.


    <i>The Most Valuable Beer</i>


    Should I do something magical with [Refine Brew]?


    Should we actually go ahead and add gold? Or Mithril?


    And it needed to be something the <i>popce</i> would vote for. This wasnt Minnova, and the general popce werent already used to our antics. On the grand scheme of things, we were still irreverent interlopers in Kinshasa, no matter how much the Highwatch liked barista brew. It had to be something <i>the locals</i> would like.


    I clearly needed to clear my head, so I decided to go for a walk.


    It looked like it was finally time to do something that Id been putting off; visit the Human Market.


    Id swept past it during my whirlwind tour of Kinshasa to fill up my improved [Map] Ability, but hadnt taken the time to really explore it. Betterte than never!


    I found Kirk cleaning the rafters in the brewroom, and asked him toe show me around. The cleaning was more by habit than anything else the elementals were perfect for that particr job so he was happy to join me for my little jaunt.


    We picked our way carefully through Greywall from the tavern to the giant district. Traffic was heavy at this time of day, and there was no sense in getting trampled.


    How are you enjoying Kinsahsa? I asked, moving out of the way of a cart. You spent time here before, right?


    Kirk nodded. A while back. I was originally going to try joining a human adventuring team here. But Deepcore isnt kind to new adventurers, and the entry test is horrific.


    Aye. Balins been beatin his head over it. I think Brightstar is taking it next week?


    Kirks gaze grew serious. They are. Theyll need to fight a monster in the Adventurers Guild arena first, then do a written exam. Its tough. The guild rmended I go to Minnova and spend time in Greentree first. And, well, the rest is history.


    Any guesses what theyll fight? I thought back to the only monsters Id seen thus far. Giant mushrooms, giant trees, giant ants, giant moles. There was a definite pattern there. Maybe theyd fight giant rats.


    Or a giant cat. I cursed as one of the myriad felines scampered between my feet, hissing as it fled Gods knew what.


    Kirk thought for a moment before answering. Probably a shellback.


    A what now?


    Hmmm it looks a lot like a pillbug, with a shell made of spiked iron tes. It rolls really fast and is amon roadblock for new adventuring teams. If a team doesnt have a way of dealing with one, it can be a guaranteed wipe.


    A <i>giant </i>pillpug?


    Yes? Well, about chest height on a dwarf.


    Of course.


    We stopped talking as we approached a main thoroughfare and the crowd grew a bit toorge to be properly heard. We were now well within the bounds of the less dwarven parts of town, and it was noticeable. Doorways were slightlyrger, and the streets were slightly wider. The proportion of other races was quite a bitrger than near the inn, with gnomes in abundance.


    And then I saw my first elf!


    As we were walking past a beer garden, I spotted her sitting in a corner. At least, I was pretty sure she was a she, since there werent any uh secondary sex characteristics to tell. She was chatting with a dwarf in heavy chainmail and actually had a <i>Whistlemug </i>in front of her! My internal image was partly correct; she did have pointed ears, and was willowy, but her skin was <i>green</i>! And she wasn''t much taller than a dwarf!


    She was raucouslyughing at something the dwarf apanying her had said. Her mane of red hair was disheveled and she had to brush it aside from her nose as her guffaws turned into snorts. The entire effect was <i>less </i>than ethereal.


    Just my luck. I finally found an elf and she was more Gamora from Marvel than Arwen from Lord of the Rings.


    As we drew out of sight I turned to Kirk and thumbed over my shoulder. Okay, that was an elf, right? Not just a green-skinned human?


    Kirk looked confused for a moment, then nodded. Oh, right, I guess you wouldnt know. Yes, that was an elf. There arent too many of them down here, since they need sunlight to grow properly. They make do with some artificial sunlight that Archis Academy provides. For gold, of course.


    Okay, I <i>clearly</i> need to read more than just legal and history books. <i>GROW??</i>


    Hasnt anybody told you about the elves and the trees?


    I recalled Annie saying something simr way back when. I thought that was just a euphemism! Or some kinda subtle racism!


    Nope! Elves are nts, technically. Thats why they live so long.


    But-but! Why do they look like people then!


    Because they want to? Kirk said with a hint ofughter. There was a snarl in the traffic up ahead and we had to dip down a side street. Conversation ground to a half as we spent a few minutes concentrating on not getting lost.


    My internal dam burst as we emerged back on the main street. Okay, that didnt help. Now I have <i>more</i> questions!


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the vition.


    Please, ask away! Youre usually <i>answering </i>questions, so Im happy to help!


    You said because they <i>want to</i>. Are they shapechangers or something? Like a doppelganger?


    Dunno what a doppelganger is, and they arent <i>quite</i> shapechangers. Elves procreate like regr nts, just not very often. They flower once every few centuries or so. When an elf is born, theyre literally a seed that gets nted in the ground. As the seedling grows, it gains some basic features, like a face and a torso, and they gain some control over shaping themselves as they grow. Things like male or female features really depend on what they see while theyre a seedling. Elves that grow up around human settlements can be indistinguishable from a human besides the green skin and red hair. They all have the standard two arms and legs, but after that theyre all quite different. Ive even heard of some with animal features.


    So, they keep growing forever? I imagined a jolly green giant with a pigs nose and chortled.


    Kirk shook his head. No, they slow down a <i>lot </i>around the height of a dwarf. Once theyre big enough, they pull themselves out of the soil and walk around. They can eat and drink normally, though I believe they absorb it differently. No uh bathroom needs.


    I nced back the way wede, though the elfdy was far out of sight. Huh so they live for millenia because theyre essentially trees. That sounded more like a dryad than elf to me, but a different world meant different rules.


    They can take a lot more punishment too, since they dont have organs. And if they get really hurt, they can rent themselves and re-grow for a decade or two. Kirk shrugged. Feels like cheating. And Ive heard the really old elves the ones that have re-nted and grown multiple times over the Millenia can look <i>weird</i>.


    Well, that certainly dashed any possibility of half-elves running around. ThoughAre there any born down here that look like dwarves?


    Maybe? Not that Ive seen, but its certainly possible.


    Huh


    My curiosity satisfied, we increased our pace and soon reached the human market. While the Grand Market was the best ce to shop, it was deep within Redwall. That could be a good hour or two walk depending on your distance, so most districts had local neighborhood markets. This one was within the expat human district, so it was the <i>Human</i> Market, but lots of people shopped there in general.


    As we approached, we saw more and more humans, until they outnumbered the dwarves. They were almost as varied, with skin tones ranging from ck to pasty, and a myriad of different clothing styles, though there wasnt any blue, green, or pink hair that I could see.


    There <i>were</i> a lot of extremely striking people. Deepcore was a well maintained intermediate dungeon, and adventuring teams were some of the few that could make the risky trek here. Consequently, nearly every person we saw was athletic and statuesque as heck, of <i>both</i> genders.


    Kirk and I caught each other turning our heads as a bombshell blonde in a fur halter-top walked past, and heughed.


    You have a thing for tall and beautiful too? Leftovers from your previous life?


    I thought about the question. I didnt? There was an aspect of appreciating beauty for beautys sake, and partial habit, but none of the <i>desire</i> I would have expected to feel. And ignored, of course. Though I wasnt married anymore so I didnt need to ignore it? Either way, she wasnt rustling the old Jimmies.


    Not really. Id like to be able to have a date without needing to look up the entire time.


    Hah! Seems like Aquas the odd one out!


    Whuzzat!?


    What, you couldnt tell she has a thing for giants?


    I thought she was <i>joking</i>!


    Naw, I can tell. They <i>look</i> at you a certain way when they see you as interesting.


    I gave him a look. Now youre just bragging.


    Kirk gave me a shing smile and flexed. I cant help it if <i>Kirk Manly </i>is a prime specimen.


    You mean prime speci<i>man</i>.


    Booo!


    The Human Market was almost exactly like the free-for-all at the centre of the Grand Market, with people, carts, and stalls filling a roughly five hundred metre square. Itcked the outer ring of fancy buildings and store fronts though, so it was more like a traditional bazaar.


    It was mostly disappointing. I did find some rice, and while I seriously considered buying all of it and immediately making some rice beer like Tsingtao or Kirin, there just wasnt enough of it avable. I got the merchant selling it to promise to get more, and paid him some up-front for the trouble.


    Shortly after, we ran into the first human child Id ever seen on Erd. What Id assumed was a tall gnome turned out to be the son of the proprietor of a fabric shop that Kirk and I were browsing. They had some beautiful linens made in South Erdian human style that were simply divine. It was luxurious, with a feeling not unlike satin, but <i>more</i>.


    It also <i>cost</i> more, since it was made using some dungeon monster bits from a far off-locale Kirk and I had never heard of.


    I could afford it, but my armor was so <ifortable </i>now...


    I decided against buying a bunch of expensive new clothes and simply meandered for a while. Kirk followed behind, buying bits and bobs and lots of snacks.


    I was only really window shopping, since I had my [Map] up and running with notifications turned on. It was set to ring me if anything from a long list of ingredients showed up on the minimap. Id never actually gotten any notifications since I got the Ability, which meant I almost jumped out of my socks when there was a cheery *DING!* sound that seemed toe from everywhere at once.


    Huh?? Whuzzat! I spun around looking for the origin of the sound before I realized what it was. I quickly pulled up the minimap, and lo and behold there was a cluster of green dots in one corner of the market. Right where the peddlers and more transient merchants were located.


    I pointed. Kirk! Over here!! I found something!


    Kirk was eating a confection that looked like a cross between a honey cruller and an apple fritter. Id caught him mid-bite, and all he was able to manage was a mumbled, whuzzat? around the mouthful. I grabbed him by the elbow and maneuvered him, protesting, through the market.


    At the indicated location a South Erden man with an oliveplexion was seated on arge cloth. He was wearing South Erden style loose-fitting clothing held together by a dark orange sash. He also had a <i>look</i> that I was beginning to associate with Specialised people. It was hard to describe, but there was a feeling of assured <i>power</i> when someone got enough Milestones. Baskets around him were filled with odd flowers and fruits. I spotted what looked like a dragonfruit, as well as some bananas and dates.


    The proprietor gave us a friendly look and smiled widely. His ent reminded me of Aishablues vaguely Punjabi ent, though he really didnt look Indian, more Greek. Hello friends! Wee to my store Exotic Eats of Erd! My name is Ganji, and I am a twice Specialised [Continental Teleporter]! I travel the world to share strange and wonderful new treats and delights with the people of Erd! Barck has truly shined upon you, that you chanced upon me during my visit to Kinshasa!


    Kirk swallowed his treat and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before answering. Hey! Thats neat! I kind of want to try those pink ones. What about you, Pete? Pete?


    I barely registered Kirks voice. My entire world had narrowed down a basket full of small, green, pinecone-like flowers.


    I reached out to them, my hands beginning to shake.


    Kirk taped me on the shoulder. Pete? You okay?


    Kirk. I choked, tears springing to my eyes. I found them I found <i>hops</i>.

 Book 3: Chapter 22: Hops

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 22: Hops</h4>


    Hops? Kirk leaned over to see what I was looking at.


    I toggled the filter for hops on and off, and the little green dots on my minimap flickered. I was indeed looking at the one thing I wanted most in this world.


    Okay, I wanted <i>magic </i>most, but hops was close second. I mean, I wanted my <i>soul </i>back most, and magic second, but hops were a close third.


    And here it was, in all its lime-green glory. A single traitorous tear rolled down my cheek, revealing my hand to the merchant before me. Dammit, this was going to be <i>expensive</i>.


    Ganji began speaking excitedly. Ah, youre interested in the pineweed! Excellent choice sir! Fruity and citrusy, it can be used as a vouring for your alchemical needs, and can make a tasty tea! It can help you sleep, reduce aches and pains, and even cure your beard dandruff! Very precious! For you, only one gold per kilo for this miraculous flower!


    He gesticted animatedly as he spoke and I subconsciously reached for my beard, distracted.


    I didnt have beard dandruff, did I!? Id checked this morning during my daily oil! Was I king?? Was my glorious beard damaged!? No, no, its a hard sales technique! Stay calm, Pete, <i>calm</i>. Dont let this guy know youll sell your left <i>and </i>right kidneys for these hops!


    Outwardly, I gave a small chuckle and surreptitiously wiped away my tears. Im not sure its so miraculous as all that, since its activating my allergies. It cant be <i>too </i>rare given how much you have in this bag. And the name pine<i>weed</i> tells me just about everything I need to know about its rarity. Ill do a silver per kilo, and not one more.


    <i>Pineweed</i> wasnt actually a terrible name for hops. The flower really did look like a leafy, tuberous pinecone. And for most of its existence it <i>was</i> considered a weed; hops grew on a vine that could spread like wildfire in the right conditions. That held true for Earth, and apparently Erd as well!


    Ganjis smile thinned for the briefest of moments, and then he snapped the high-beams back on. Ah, sir, you are quite the perceptive dwarf! They are indeed abundant in the southern fields of Bunta, but they do not grow north of the equator, and of course, they will not grow here either! I couldnt part with them for less than eight silver!


    You could probably grow them in Greentree. Kirk cut in. Theres farming plots in the Endless in.


    That, or see about borrowing some of that elven sunlight. I added. And its still a weed. Three silver.


    Ganji didnt even pause as he jumped to another tack. But think of the wasted time! No, no, no, my supply is the only that youll find in the entire city! I brought them here <i>personally</i> with [Greater Teleport]! For my time and effort sir, shall we say 6 silver?


    I put on a thoughtful expression. Hmmm I wasnt really nning on buying anything today, how about we split the difference and do four silver?


    Ahah! Surely you jest sir! I think you would find that 5 silver is splitting the difference! It will pain me to part with it at such a low price, but I will do it for you in celebration of our meeting today!


    I hummed and hawed, then agreed, but not before scanning them with [Check Quality]. I still wasnt used to this whole haggling thing, though ess to [Mental Math] and a high Charisma definitely helped in that department. Honestly, I had <i>zero</i> idea how much the hops were actually worth locally, and he <i>was</i> the only supplier Id seen, so technically they were actually priceless.


    A short whileter I had a bag containing ten kilos of hops, and was practically dancing through the Grand Market. Ganji was in town for the rest of the week, so I had the option of going back to his stall again if the need presented itself.


    Soooo, what is it? Kirk asked. You look like you found a gold vein.


    Its deus ex machina. Barck has favoured me this day with a blessed harvest!


    Kirk gave me a <i>look</i>, and I relented.


    Its <i>better</i> than gold. Its hops. Or <i>pineweed</i> on Erd, ording to my lord and saviour, Ganji. Theyre how tha <i>hopback</i> we have at the brewery got its name. Ive been lookin fer them everywhere, and here they just fell into myp!


    Which was more than just a little suspicious,e to think of it. Mayhaps a godly thumb on the scales.


    Its an important brewin ingredient from my homeworld, I finished.


    Kirk stroked his poor, bald, hairless chin. I think that exuberant shop keeper said it was from Bunta, actually.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the vition.


    Oh, har har.


    Im learning from the best! Soooo, what <i>is </i>it??


    In answer I broke into verse.


    The hop fer its profit I thus do exalt


    It strengthens the drink and it vors the malt


    And if its well-brewed, so long will itst


    And drawing abide, if you dont draw too fast.


    Kirk nodded. Thats pretty. Doesnt answer my question, but pretty. Did you write that?


    No, no. Well sort of, I paraphrased a bit. It was written by a gentleman by tha name of Thomas Tusser in the 15th century. Hops are special to me. To all Earth brewers, really. All beer is made with hops, and if it aint, it''s a deliberate choice ta brew it no hop.


    Rarefied.


    Id go so far as to say epic, or even <i>Legendary</i>.


    And does it actually do everything he said it would?


    I rolled my eyes. Yes and no. It contains a bunch of chemicals that <i>can</i> have the effects he mentioned. Improved sleep, and pain reduction among them. The problem is that the dose is so tiny that its hard to say its doing anything at all. Is the effect a cebo, the alcohol, or the hops? When you have so many things mixed together it can be hard to tell.


    Such as?


    Well, for example, one of the chemicals in hops is this thing called 8-prenylnaringenin, a phytoestrogen. Your body treats it simrly to estrogen thats ady hormone. Women in my world that worked on hops farms often had, uh bad periods.


    Kirks stride faltered. D-does it affect men?


    Excessive beer consumption <i>can </i>cause a man to grow breasts and be impotent. Theres no real evidence that it''s caused by the hops, and thetest research says no, but that hasnt stopped spection.


    Kirk made a subconscious warding gesture towards his crotch. And you think <i>anyone </i>is going to want to drink something made with this stuff!?


    Like I said, its an urban myth! The main thing is that hops are <i>bitter, </i>so theyll work as a bittering agent. They have a citrusy, spicy aftertaste, and also <i>act as a preservative</i>. I waggled my eyebrows as I said thest bit.


    Kirk looked enlightened. Our new setup already helps preserve the beer so with hops


    we could ship it all the way to the other end of Crack and still have itst for a couple months! I finished.


    That sounds too good to be true! No wonder your people loved it so much!


    I shrugged. It depends; theres a lot of history there. Hops werent actually that popr when they were first introduced to the brew. They were even banned from being used in beer at one point. Earth beers originally used the same mix-of-herbs-and-nts approach Sacred Brew uses a gruit, its called. The first recorded use of hops in brewing was some time in our tenth century, but that was a one time thing. It didnt be <i>really</i> popr until the Church started taxing the ingredients used in gruits, and brewers naturally switched to hops instead. Over the years, the strains of hop used became as important as the yeast or malt.


    Id set a rapid pace leaving the market and we were already passing the beer garden where wed seen the elf. She wasnt there, and I didnt care. I couldnt <i>wait</i> to get these to the brewery and do a batch with these. I was even willing to toss my current experimental batches if it came to it.


    To keep from jittering, I began excitedly setting out the n when we got back to the Goat. I practically tripped over my words. We''ll need ta determine if theyre bitter, aromatic, dual-purpose, or specialty hops. Bitter hops have a high acidity level, aromatic hops have a high level of the fragrant hop-oil humulene, dual-purpose are both, and specialty hops add vours beyond tha regr hoppiness. Like licorice, spice, and everything nice! A hop tea should do the trick there, and we can ask Rosie to make us one.


    We were back in the press of bodies again, and Kirk actually stepped <i>over</i> a gnome, who shrieked in outrage before we disappeared back into the crowd. Thats a lot of different types of hops!


    Hah! And thats not even close to the actual number. Theres hundreds of kinds of hops. My personal favourite was the Canadian born and bred Sasquatch, but I was also partial to the noble hops. Those are four specific aromatic strains of German and Czech origin Hallertau, Saaz, St, and Tettnang. Theyre among the oldest hops in use, and have a pedigree all their own. Then there are the <i>nearly nobles</i> like English Fuggles and Kent Golding and a few others. Brewers like to argue for or against adding the nearlies to the ranks of the nobility; over a beer of course. I hate Fuggles, by the way.


    Serious business. Like dwarves arguing over mining rights. Kirk deadpanned. Or Balin trying to defend the Nobility from the consequences of their own actions.


    Yes, yes. After we drink some tea, well have ta measure out the amount of hops we want ta use for tha brew. Too much and itll be too bitter, too little and it loses tha taste. There isnt much consensus on how to measure em, but Ive always been partial ta kilos of hops per barrel. A barrel is 36 gallons, or about 150 liters. A good start is roughly three kilos of hops per barrel. Then well just have ta adjust tha bitterness to taste.


    Ah bitterness, that most fickle of measurements. The modern unit of bitterness was the IBU, or International Bitterness Unit. I, along with myriad other brewers, despised the bloody thing. The IBU scale went from 0 to 120, which was already too wide a range to make sense of. To make things worse, it required an expensiveb test <i>after</i> you were already done brewing. There were ways to calcte backwards to determine the amount of hops required per barrel, but I was a fan of winging it instead. Plus, whenbined with the alcohol and malt vour, IBUs didnt really tell you anything about the actual taste of the beer. Id had 40s that tasted more bitter than 60s.


    Sounds like a great n, Pete. But I think the first thing youll need to do is run it by Annie. She <i>just</i> finished changing the bittering agent, and your fellow dwarves may not appreciate the taste of these.


    Itll take that when ites, I said, steadfastly.


    Well, itsing up fast. Kirk craned his neck up and looked down the road. I see the Goat.


    Alright pal. Lets <i>do </i>this! HOP to it!


    And you had the gall toin about me!

 Book 3: Chapter 23: Newton’s Cradle

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 23: Newton''s Cradle</h4>


    The hops werent going to work.


    That was my immediate first thought when I burst excitedly through the doorway to the tavern and ran headfirst into Annie. She was reorganizing our front of house, her brow dripping with sweat, and she had the cheery look of someone working hard and loving every minute of it.


    You''re in a hurry, Pete, she quipped. She twirled both her moustache braids at the same time, one in each hand, and regarded me with twinkling eyes. Did you have an idea for the contest? I admit Im still stuck on gold in the brew.


    I gave a sick smile back, realization hitting me like a tossed dwarf.


    She was so <i>pleased </i>and confident recently. Shed spent <i>weeks</i> trying to improve that damn bittering agent to make her Goldstone Bitters and thest batch shed made hade out amazing, by dwarven standards at least. All things considered, it was a feat worthy of the first brewer.


    And now Pete the Godly Chosen <i>ASSHOLE </i>was going toe waltzing in and dere he knew better and whisk her hard work aside.


    I would be the biggest putz in the world if I did that, <i>especially </i>if it turned out better. Though,e to think of it, I didnt even know if dwarven taste-buds would appreciate hops in the first ce, or if I had aromatic instead of bittering hops. Or, or, or


    I I could wait. Now that I had my precious hops, and knew where to get more, I wasnt <i>really </i>in a hurry. Heck, I could do an experiment with a small batch. Maybe try mixing it in with Annies new agent, and see how it did. There were lots of things I could do before tangling her beard with my shenanigans. I was going to live 400 years, I could take it slooooow.


    Pete? Annie gave me a poke in the stomach. Youre doing the thing.


    I shook my head clear. Right. Sorry. No, I found an ingredient Im really lookin forward ta usin.


    Its Kirk excitedly began behind me..


    A surprise! I finished, and elbowed him in the stomach. At least, I <i>tried</i> to elbow him in the stomach, but with me not looking, and him being quite a bit taller what followed was a lot of swearing, profuse apologies, and a trip to the kitchen for an ice pack. At least it changed the subject.


    While Kirk angrily nursed his dignity, I pulled up one of the chairs next to the fire and stewed over some stew. It was Branstest attempt at a salty food for the cooking contest, and It was salty.


    I swallowed it back with some liquid gold. Back to square one. We had a n meeting tonight to discuss the contest, and I wanted to have at least <i>one</i> good idea to bring. Id introduce everyone to the hops after Annie came down off her crafters high.


    What did dwarves find valuable? Where should I even begin?


    Or maybe I was looking at this wrong.


    What did <i>I</i> find valuable now?


    My n.


    Gold. Silver. Gems.


    My cozy cave.


    Our goat.


    My business, though I definitely cared more about the people than the business.


    My brews.


    My beard.


    I activated [Petes Miniature Remembrance], and pulled out one of thergest objects Id been able to call so far - a Newtons Cradle. Each of the five metal balls was inscribed with a beavermoose, the mascot of our old brewery. Caroline had bought it for me for my office when Id first moved into it, and it helped clear my head when I was stuck in a rut.


    I pulled one of the balls up and let it fall. It struck the next ball in line with a sharp *ck* and the ball on the other endunched up into the air, before it too fell down and repeated the process.


    I watched it go, back and forth. *ck* *ck* *ck*


    asionally Id lift two balls, or balls on either end, watching the variations of the cradle y out as I let my mind wander. *ck* *ck* *ck*


    Valuable valuable how did one even define value, anyways? Money? Nostalgia? It was so open ended *ck* *ck* *ck*


    And we needed to be original enough that we werent just doing the same as the other breweries. And even if I did arrange somethin<i>g special</i>, would Annie go for it? Would the voters? *ck* *ck* *ck*


    What to do, what to do *ck* *ck* *cl - *


    Well, aint that just somethin! Bandos voice came from over my shoulder, seemingly right in my ear.


    I jumped into the air like a startled cat. Hoy! Bando Digger! Whatre ya doin, skulking up on a dwarf like that!!


    Bando had the good grace to look sheepish. I was sneakin in when I heard tha sound. Looks neat!


    Its a Newtons Cradle. And sneaking? My eyes narrowed to suspicious slits as I regarded his expression..


    He fidgeted. Er, I meanin back in.


    Uh, HUH. Its not really my business, Bando. So long as yer work gets done. Whatre you up to? I hope not gettin into more trouble with the guard. Hed been brought back by the local police twice now, and theyd said he was liable to end up in a reform mine the next time.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the vition.


    Bando rapidly shook his nead. No, siree, Pete. We learned our lesson. We were passin out flyers in the gnomish district. Lord Harmsson thinks with the full support of the gnomishmunity, itll be easier to put pressure on the king.


    Physical flyers? Is soliciting like that legal in Kinshasa? I seem to recall I had to y silly buggers with bards when I wanted to advertise in Minnova.


    Advertise? Bando gave me a curious gaze.


    Nothing, forget about it. Are you allowed to hand out flyers?


    Bando shrugged. Dunno. We had a watcher fer tha guard either way. They dont like us no matter <i>what </i>cause they dont like what we stand for! We scarper ifn they show up.


    I nodded nomittally. This was starting to sound depressingly familiar to election year in Canada. And what do you stand for, exactly?


    Freedom from the oppression of the nobility! Equal rights for gnomes! Proper respect fer the merchantry and the average greybeard! Bando punctuated each sentence with gusto, his eyes shining with the fervour of a zealot.


    Ah, youth. Or in Bandos case, a young-adult crisis. Probably rebelling against his mothers smothering attention, or seeking validation from his father. Or not, I was a brewer, not a shrink. Either way, this sounded a lot like that most heady of stimnts rhetoric. I needed a stiffer drink for this conversation.


    Dwarven society had almost no defense against rhetoric. Theyd been helpless against <i>advertising</i>, let alone a concerted push of jingoism and catchy slogans. Bando and his friends were going to find themselves in serious hot water if they werent careful.


    Parental experience said ordering him to stop would just cause him to dig in his heels, so I simply nodded along as he continued his story. When he was done waxing histrionically about the changes he was wroughting in the world his words, not mine I gave an appreciative grunt.


    Yer doin a fine thing, tryin ta make the world a better ce, Bando Digger.


    Bandos chest swelled with pride. Why thankee, Brewer Pete! Lord Harmsson is an inspiration to us all.


    Sigh. Yes, Harmsson, a populist if Id ever seen one. What about this Harmsson do you appreciate so much?


    Hes a hard workin greybeard, and he helps everyone. Even as a minor noble he still has thoughts fer tha less fortunate.


    Heh. You know, ordin'' to Balin and Opal, thats what <i>all</i> nobles are supposed to do.


    Mebbe further East, but round Kinshasa parts theyre more like parasites.


    I nced around the tavern, but we were currently alone; the few guests we had at the inn werent in for dinner yet, and we were closed to the general public untilter.


    You know that you can get in trouble fer talkin about the nobility like that. Country of Crack Ordinances, Chapter 2, Section 4, Subsection 3, I whispered.


    Bando rolled his eyes. Which pretty much summed my actual thoughts on the matter.


    I tried another tack. You wouldnt want a silly think like insultin a noble keep you from helpin folks, right?


    I guess


    Have you told yer ma what yer doin? Shed be right proud of how selfless her sons be! I nced in the direction of the tenement houses that we were using for the inn. At this time of day, Rosie would be there cleaning up. Her [Innkeeper] Specialisation came with some crazy Abilities for housekeeping.


    Bando blushed, and swirled his foot. Naw, she wouldnt understand. And I gotta admit, Pete. Its not <i>just </i>about helpin folks, I gots another reason too. Rumor says that ifn ya spend enough time helpin Lord Harmsson, yer liable to get Titled! His good work has tha Gods keepin watch on what he does, and Blessin those what help. Ill never get a Blessin workin an inn, its not my callin, so this may be my best chance!


    Thats I trailed off as something about what hed just said jogged my memory. Recently, my higher intelligence helped me remember even one-off conversations, and Ibed through recent events.


    What came to mind was that Chosen Catalysts tended to spread Blessings around them. Given that, it was entirely possible that Harmsson, or somebody near him, was one of the other Chosen.


    A Chosen within City Hall would exin a <i>lot</i> of the weird things happening with the Octamillenial events. The sudden push for a constitutional monarchy, the slogans, the unting of tradition. The uncanny feeling that I was unknowingly ying in a gameshow, like some fantastical version of the Truman Show.


    It fit a pattern, and warranted further study. Id need to check it out incognito, with backup. Preferably lots of burly dwarves with axes.


    With that decided, it was time toy out the hook. I leaned back in my chair and adopted a thoughtful expression. [White Lie] don''t fail me now! Tell you what, Bando. Youve convinced me.


    Er, I have? About what??


    Your noble cause! I want toe help you out. Which was technically true,e to think.


    Really!? Bando looked positively <i>ecstatic</i>. Ya mean it??


    Sure! Whats the next time yer headin out? I could knock two birds out with one stone. Make sure this was all as above-board as Bando imed, and steer him from within if the needs called for it. And of course, investigate Lord Harmsson on the sly. That was three birds with one stone!


    Were goin to Yellowwall! Lord Harmsson got tha city ta pipe in fresh water from tha cistern in ckwall. Right now tha pipes only go as far as Greywall, but Lord Harmsson got em to agree to an expansion ifn most o thabour was volunteer!


    Sounds like a fine days work. Im in. When is it?


    Sometimes in tha next few weeks. Ill let ya know.


    Alrighty. I turned away from Bando and back to my cradle. I tried to get back in the zone, but the moment was lost. Plus, Bando was still standing over my shoulder, with a nervous energy I immediately recognized as child has question for parent.


    I sighed. Yes, Bando?


    Whatre you thinkin on so hard? You were really into it when I came in. Sorry fer interruptin.


    Eh, sure. You may be able to help. Heres tha deal.


    I exined the quarter-final rules, and Bandoughed. Whyre ya tryin ta appeal to <i>everyone</i>? Aint the votin limited to tha capital?


    I stared at Bando. From the mouths of babes, or Bandos in this case. He was right, I didnt need to appeal to dwarves I just needed something <i>Kinshasans</i> in particr would find valuable. Now, what fit that description? This was something [sh of Insight] was <i>perfect </i>for, and I activated the ability.


    Four things immediately popped into my mind. One was nobility, which was utterly useless unless we could make a beer that magically turned you into a noble. The next was tradition, and while a traditional Sacred Brew would fulfill the requirements, it probably wouldnt be enough to win.


    Thest possibility though, was salt. It was in everything in Kinshasa. Salted pork, salted crackers, salty taffy, over-salted coffee at the Whistling Teacup Cafe next door, et cetera. ording to Richter, It was Kinshasas primary export, and yed a vital role in their internal politics, and a significant portion of Yellowwall worked all day in the salt mines. Even back on Earth, salt had been called white gold. Heck, It was the theme of the quarterfinals for the cooking contest. I stared at the dish of half-eaten salty stew in front of me, the eddies of goat in it reflecting the eddies in my mind.


    Salt and beer


    Salty beer


    My eyes widened and I jumped to my feet. Eureka!


    Bando almost fell back on his rear. Wuzzat!? Yer what??


    Youve given me a brilliant idea, Bando! Thank you! I may have juste up with the winning brew, and its all thanks to you!

 Book 3: Chapter 24: Canada Gose

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 24: Canada Gose</h4>


    I was excited enough about my idea that I spent the rest of the afternoon huddled in my bedroom cave-nook, brainstorming and making notes in my brewing journal. I really got into it, so I was lucky to emerge from my hideyhole in time to make the n meeting.


    We were holding the meeting in the big sunken library in the manor house. We usually held these meetings in the restaurant during off hours mostly so we could snack, but this time we really needed things to be top-secret, so Annie had dered it would be in the manor.


    I was thest to arrive at the meeting, and stared in shock at what I saw.


    There was a moveable chalkboard on wheels up against one wall, and several kegs of beer and bowls of munchies were set up on the low bookshelves. Kirk, Johnsson, Aqua, Annie, Richter, and Bran were all in attendance, and everyone was chatting and socializing. Penelope was there too as well, snuffling at drinks and taking handouts. I rubbed my eyes and stared, was this a party? Had I missed the invite? What was going on?


    Ah, Petes here! Annie announced, noticing my entry. Come on in, we were just waiting for you, so now we can get started.


    I descended the few steps into the sunken seating area, giving Kirk a nod as I passed. What exactly are we gettin started? Whats going on? Did I miss somethin?


    Nope. We were just waiting for you. Aqua passed me a Whistlemug full of barista brew. Bando was telling everyone that you had some great idea so we nned for a long speech.


    I gawped. EXCUSE me!?


    Were notin, now that we know you arent just talkin smoke out yer stovepipe. Johnsson raised his own mug in a cheers. Learnin things from another world is interesting, so we thought wed do it infort.


    Aye, you can go on. So lets enjoy ourselves in da meantime! Richter added, cheerfully munching on some pretzels.


    Well excuuuse me! I growled.


    And I know several others had some ideas too, so I decided to turn it from a in old staff meeting into something more fun. Annie smiled, and pointed to an empty padded bench. Now sit, so I can get started.


    I flopped into my seat, mutely. Caroline always said I could get carried away with beersining


    I am now calling this meeting of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub into order! Annie cleared her throat and pped her hands. Richter, youve checked for magical eavesdropping?


    Aye!


    Johnsson popped his hand up. Why arent we trying to eavesdrop on thepetition? Lucky Jeans is ourpetition for this round right? Should we set up some listening spells? We even have our own mage!


    Because were honourable dwarves. Annie scolded. And the superior brewers. We dont need to cheat.


    And were not scheduled ta scope em out and set up the enchantments until Arday. I muttered, sharing a fist-bump with Richter. There was a general chuckle and Annie gave me a glower.


    Enough of that. Time is of the essence, so I hope you all put a lot of thought into this. Pete apparently has a great idea, so Ill have him gost, and you can all have your moment in the solstone. Ill go first, and then we can go round the circle. If you have an idea,e up to the ckboard and write it down. She held out a piece and chalk and indicated a roughly clockwise rotation around the library, with me at the end. Eh, that was fine.


    Annie broadly wrote Ideas for most valuable beer on the board, then began, My idea actually connects to the work Ive already been doing with the bittering agent which Ive taken to calling Goldstone Bitters. Ive been focusing on using local ingredients to cut down on cost, since most of the Sacred Brews regr ingredients are imported from Greentree. I realized that since we were using all-local ingredients, we could y on the heavy patriotism and general air of Kinshasa is the best that weve all been grumbling about. We have the perfect opportunity to advertise a truly made in Kinshasa beer, with all Kinshasan ingredients. And that may fit the bill of a truly valuable beer to the locals. We could call it Kinshasa Brew and everything!


    She scratched her idea down in brief on the board as she spoke, and finished with a flourish of the chalk.


    As she finished her pitch, there was loud pping and cheers of approval. I was in full agreement, it was a great idea, and was in fact nearly the same conclusion Ide to to a point. Good for Annie! She was really putting those business lessons and her brewing techniques to good use!! Earth history was full of beloved local beers made with local ingredients and named after the city. Heck, even the beer I was going to rmend today was named after its point of origin.


    Next was Johnsson, but he wasnt too into the brewing side of things, so Annie gave him a brief nce then moved on to -


    Johnsson cleared his throat. *Ahem* I actually had an idea.


    Annie gave him a shocked look. As did the rest of us. Really?


    Johnsson frowned. Aye. I may not be a brewer or mage or whatever in thaher Aqua is now, but I do put effort in for tha n.


    Annie had the good grace to look apologetic. Sorry, Johnsson. Whats your idea? She motioned to the ckboard and he waved her down.


    I dont need toe up, its simple enough to exin. You know how Berrys been our Celebrity Endorsement as Pete calls it? For barista brew and liquid gold? In Minnova, anyway. Well, thats valuable. Reputation is valuable in Kinshasa. I spend a lot of time in the beardy salons, and the main topics of conversation are the Octamillenial contests, tha nobility, the refugees and monster attacks, and tha local hitball and wrestling scenes. Couldnt we make our beer seem valuable, by getting the local teams and wrestlers to endorse it? Johnsson trailed off as he finished, looking around at the eyes staring wide eyed back at him.


    Thats brilliant! Aqua shrieked. I dont care what we go with, we need to do that too! Even if its only to make sure nobody else does it first!!!


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Annie nodded and wrote Celebrity Endorsement up on the chalkboard and circled it twice.


    The rest of us heartily agreed, calling encouragement and pping. For his part, Johnsson sat smugly back into his chair and blushed slightly under all the apuse.


    Leave it to Johnsson to think outside of the brew!


    Next was Bran, who scowled and jerked his head to his left. I dont have time ta think about you lot when Im workin hard on my own contest. Im just here to see if theres any good ideas I can steal.


    Oh, my turn, my turn! Aqua bounced up to the board, her blue beard flouncing, and snatched the chalk from Annie. Annie rolled her eyes and stood to the side. Okay! Why does everyone drink beer!


    We blinked in silence, until Richter held up his hand first. Because dwarves love beer?


    Yes, but no! Why else!


    We were soon throwing answers out at random, with Aqua growing more and more agitated as nobody guessed the answer she was looking for.


    It tastes good!


    Water tastes awful!


    It was good enough fer our ancestors, its good enough for us!


    Its fun to drink?


    *Baaaaah!!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] Im helping!


    It refreshes the parts other drinks cant reach!


    Arghhh! No! And Pete, what the heck!? The parts other drinks cant reach!? Ew?? The answer is: getting drunk!


    There was a general murmur of agreement, bleating, and nodding of heads. Why yes, we did enjoy drinking beer to get drunk, what dwarf or goat didnt?


    Im willing to bet that with Pete and Annie here, it should be easy for us to make a beer with a higher alcohol content! More alcohol for less drinking! Thats really valuable! Aqua wrote more alcohol up on the board, surrounding it with stars and a small stick figure of a dwarf with drunken bubbles and confusion circles over his head. It was cute, but she definitely wasnt an artist.


    Annie chuckled as she swiped the chalk and gestured back to the seats. Thank you, Aqua. That''s an interesting idea. Pete, is it possible?


    I nodded, pulling at my beard in thought. Aye, should be easy, actually. I dunno if it would meet tha most valuable criteria. Theres a type of beer called an Imperial that''s got a high ABV. It may be worthwhile ta make it anyways, but we should hold it in reserve fer ater round.


    Alright. Next up is Richter. Richter?


    Richter smirked, and raised his arms with a flourish, revealing a small potion bottle held in one hand. We all leaned in to look closer. It was a fairly standard ss sk, with a gently swirling ck liquid inside it. The liquid was flecked throughout with glittering sparkles and seemed to shine with an inner light. I know what we were all tinking; just add gold to da brew. But, that wouldnt actually work, since de gold would just float to de bottom. This potion is used by de nobility ta spot poisons in food. You pour a bit on de te and it glitters if it finds poison. I was tinking about somethin Pete said a long time ago, dat alcohol is a poison. So, I asked an [Alchemist] if de potion could search for alcohol instead. He made a few changes, and


    Richter took his Whistlemug and dropped several drops in. For a moment, nothing happened, and we all craned our necks to look deep into the mug. Then, flecks of light glittered in the depths of the mug, like gold in a pan, or stars in the night sky. Everyone ooohd appreciatively.


    I like it, Richter! How long does itst? How much is the potion? Would it work on a whole batch? I chattered excitedly.


    Richters smile turned into a frown. Thats de problem. Its expensive, and onlysts a few hours. And it looks pretty, but I dunno if people will say its de most valuable. De [Alchemist] said he could make itst longer, and maybe reduce the price, but hed need a month ta study it.


    Hmmm Annie murmured, and wrote the idea up on the board.


    Hmmm was my opinion too. It was a neat idea in concept, and I was 100% behind more magical beer, but one month was too long for the time frame we had. Worth exploring in the future, though.


    Anie looked next at Kirk, who shrugged. I carry the beer, not make it, he said. Can you make light beer thats easier to carry? That could be valuable. Pete?


    Light beer is the way madness lies, I growled. Even if Light Brew is already a thing, I refuse ta teach anyone how ta make light beer, that way lies madness, and bud light.


    Annie held her hand out in my direction. So the brewer of a thousand brews says. And speaking of which, whats your great idea, Pete?


    She came down and took a seat, passing me the piece of chalk as she did. Everyone else jumped up to refill bowls of pretzels, mugs of beer, and then settle back down to getfortable. I waited in strained silence until everyone was done, then began.


    My idea is actually quite simr to Annies. Rather than approaching the valuable side, I approached the Kinshasa side. What do Kinshasans find truly valuable?


    Bran immediately grumped around a mouthful of deliberately unsalted pretzel. SALT.


    I pointed at him. Exactly! So, I wanted to take the opportunity to introduce salted beer!


    Annie leaned forward in her chair, elbows on her knees. Go on


    I began writing point-form notes up on the board, teaching as I did so. Back on Earth, the most popr type of salted beer was a drink called gose. Its actually named after the river and city where it was first made, the Gose river in Gor. So Annie, your idea for a Kinshasa Brew is right on the mark!


    Annie preened as I continued, While modern brewers add salty water to the beer to make gose, the first goses simply used the naturally salty water of the local aquifer. Kind of like Ruddy Bloodbrews iron-voured beer.


    So, we just add salt to the beer? Aqua asked. Thats all?


    Not quite! I drew a circle off to the side and added a small picture of a goat. Penelope gave a small bleat of approval. Just addin salt makes it salty, obviously. To counteract tha saltiness, goses add a bit of sourness and spice, with a bacteria called Lactobacillus and a pinch of coriander. In fact, theres a whole family of beers that use Lactobacillus, called sours!


    Lacto So, its milk? Bran asked, frowning.


    I nodded. Close! Its mostly yogurts that contain Lactobacillus. In fact, one of tha easiest ways to make a sour is ta pitch some yogurty wort in when you pitch the ancestral seed after the chill. In a regr sour, the sourness is counteracted with some sweet, like fruits or other adjuncts, but in a gose it''s usually just the salt. Goses are also usually made with half-wheat for the grist, but I think well skip that step.


    We all shivered, remembering the nightmare that had been the witbier.


    Goses were actually a lost beer, I continued, and for a brief period there was none to be found on the entire. It was during a time of our history called world war two, when thest brewery making it was taken over by the German government and shut down. Thankfully, one of their workers remembered the recipe and opened his own brewery after the war. He restarted the gose trade, and it''s now all over the world.


    I then went into a long description of the mostmon gose adjuncts, and various other ways Lactobacilus could be added to beer, and the history of its use. I had a rapt audience, and it was nice to finally share this information without worrying about being caught out as an Otherworlder.


    I finished with, I honestly think a gose will be a shoe-in for this contest. If we source local goat yogourt, add Annies local ingredients idea, and find some wrestlers to endorse us, we could have a m dunk!


    A what Johnsson began, but Annie cut him off.


    You said this gose would be sour, Pete, about as sour as your Umqubothi? That was too sour.


    Hmmm, it should be less than that. And the salt should really cut it.


    Then, I say we should try it. Annie said, with finality. Well use my new bittering agent, and source some local yogurt. Id like to try one batch without the yogurt too though; just some salt in the beer, because I do think thats a good idea. Richter, Aqua, I like your ideas too, but I dont think theyll work for this case.


    The pair nodded, understanding.


    Alright Pete, well run a batch tomorrow, and see how it tastes. Then well test on a few locals to see if it can win. Annie gave me fist-over-the-chest salute..


    I grinned. Even if it doesnt win, itll be good for the Thirsty Goat.


    Annie sighed. And how do you know that?


    Because whats good for the gose is good for the gander.


    Youve been waiting all night to use that havent you. And I dont even know what it means.


    Bah.

 Book 3: Chapter 25: Lucky Jean’s

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 25: Lucky Jean''s</h4>


    We spent the next few days tweaking the exact recipe for our salty gose. There were a few extra steps beyond just adding yogourt at the boil, like mixing a proper starter and testing different yogourts to get a good strain of bacteria. A bad strain could make the sour taste like vomit, and we really didnt want that, even though it <i>would </i>technically bring our sour closer to the taste of standard Sacred Brew!


    Bran and Darrel continued to bring us salty dish after salty dish. We ate so much salt it was an <i>assault </i>to our senses. It was enough that I felt like a <i>salt</i>ier dog than Kirk! And when we finally got an unsalted dish I turned somer<i>salt</i>s. It got to the point that everyone else was avoiding the office, because Id <i>pepper </i>them with puns to celebrate the <i>season </i>of the Octamillenial.


    I could do this all day, but Annie would get <i>sour</i>. Nyuck.


    All good things muste to an end, and soon a few different attempts were awaiting fermentation. I got Whistlemop to make us a series of carboysrge ss jugs so we could do some small batches, rather than wasting the full tank space on possible duds.


    Carboy brewing really took me back to my college days, just sitting in the garage and shootin the shit with Caroline or my business buddies. Talking about Nirvana and imagining we were cool.


    We also made our first Light Brew, using the Ancestral Seed Master Brewer Schist had gifted us. Annie actually wept tears of joy when we made it and set it to ferment in one of the cooled tanks. It would take at least a month to ferment, but it would be worth it!


    In the end we had five different sour goses and five in jane goses fermenting against the wall.


    Of course, things didnt stop just because we hadpetition stuff to do! The regr beers still needed to be brewed and bottled, the tavern still had to be run, and everyone else still had their lives to live.


    While everyone did the day-to-day, I spent some time drying out <i>my precioussssss</i> hops in the oven. I washed my hands in gollumy glee as I watched them baking. Wet-hops, as fresh hops were called, werent the best for brewing unless they were <i>fresh</i>, fresh, and I didnt want my first experience with them marred by improper storage.


    As for my brother, he was finally going to be *sniff* a real Kinshasa adventurer! Which was why one fine morning I found myself giving him a fashion once-over, before he went to do the practical test against the shellback. His team had passed the written test with flying colours, so only the battle with the beastie remained.


    Ach, Pete. Stop with tha bloody <i>theatrics!!</i> Balin grumped. Argghh! Quit it!!!


    He tried to shuffle aside as I applied some of the old spit and polish to his golden armour.


    We need you looking your best today Balin! Youre going to be impressing the judges with your armaments, skill of arms, strength of arms, and your fancy armour! Thats a lot of arms, so Im lending you a hand to go with them.


    ... yer daft, ya know that?


    Shuddup and turn to the left. <i>How </i>did you get gravy oil on <i>magically apparating te</i>!?


    Balin muttered, but turned dutifully to let me get at what looked like the remains of biscuits, gravy, and fried chicken. Bran had been experimenting with fried foods recently, from fried chicken, to fried goat, to fried mushrooms. Since we were still the only ones really using deep-frying, he considered it an edge in the saltinesspetition.


    Personally, I could eat fried food all day, especially now that the brews were getting halfway tolerable with Annies Goldstone Bitters.


    I finished dusting him off, then considered the gleaming God that stood before me. I averted my eyes. Ugh, Tiaras Shiny Golden Teats yer so godsdamn pretty in this armor.


    Balin twiddled his handlebar moustache proudly. Aye, that I am.


    Are you sure we cante and watch?


    Balin shook his head sadly. Itll be a couplea hours, and theres no audience allowed. Lotsa reasons fer that.


    Ah well. I guess Richter, Johnsson, Aqua and I can go on our little jaunt in the meantime. Welle and meet you at the guild when were done. Annie will be meeting us there too. Then we can all go crash an axe-throwing range or something.


    Youll stay safe? And bring yer warhammer with ya.


    Rx! Were just going to tha pub. And you have that fancy [Party-Finder] thing to sniff me out if something happens.


    Yer goin to yer <ipetitors</i> pub. Balin chided. It could be dangerous.


    Eh, I dont think theyll try anything with the eyes of the entire city on them. Richter learned a defensive spell, just in case, and well all be armed.


    Where is it?


    In Yellowwall, not far from Deepcore Dungeon, actually. Theyve been focusing on servin adventurers.


    Balins brows furrowed with thought. But lotsa adventurers wont be able ta vote. Only Kinshasan residents can.


    I snickered. Seems like it''s in the bag.


    They made it to tha second round, they must be good brewers


    Oh, no doubt. But the first round was just a general test. The voting thing was unexpected, and may cost them.


    Ach. Ive been seein those, whatd they call em, votin booths around tha city. Seems like a lot of work fer a one time-thing.


    I drummed my fingers on his massive shoulder-pads. Hmmm they may not be a one time thing. I think there may be a Chosen in city hall; voting booths are somethin from <i>my </i>world.


    Balin gave me a steely look.


    I nodded. Aye. Dunno who, yet. Bando and Johnsson have been spendin lots of time with tha locals, so Ive asked them ta look into it.


    Well, you stay safe. Hopefully theres no Dungeon Break when yer there. He adjusted his te gauntlet and then matched horrified gazes with me. Godsdamn, now you''ve got me doin it!


    How was that MY FAULT!?


    We took the long way around the dungeon. It took an extra hour, but we werent taking any chances.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Kirk ended up tagging along. Wed originally nned to go <i>sans giant,</i> but Kirk convinced us that humans weremon enough around Deepcore Dungeon that he wouldnt be out of ce.


    Penelope came as well. She convinced us with cuteness. And threats of bleating violence.


    Kirk turned out to be correct, as the number of giants and other races in sight increased as we approached the pub. I stopped counting around fifty giants and a dozen elves. They were the general eclectic fare Ide to expect of adventurers, with varying armours, clothes, and magic items.


    The neighbourhood was standard Yellowall, with a mishmash of multi-storey dpidated and ramshackle houses. This close to the dungeon was especially bad, and most of the buildings looked ready to copse even <i>without</i> monstrous help.


    <i>Lucky Jeans </i>wasnt so much a hole in the wall, as a hole in the <i>roof</i>. A creaky ramp led up to an open hatch, with raucous shouting and holleringing from inside. Light streamed out of the windows above us, along with the asional tossed dwarf.


    Kirk approved. Easy to get a good distance on the toss with a setup like this.


    Easy ta defend against diggin monsters, too. Richter mused. So long as dey dont just knock it over.


    The ramp had an odd mottled look to it, which on closer examination resolved into a thick mat of peanut shells. I cracked augh.


    Whuzzat, Pete? Johnsson asked, looking askance at me. He was sweaty and nervous, as he was rtively new to espionage. <i>I</i> was an old hand at it after scoping out the restaurants of Minnova with Bran back in the day.


    It reminds me of a pub back home, I said, pointing to the shells. Big Bad Johns on Van-Isle. They had peanut shells on the floor, just like that.


    Peanut shells? Johnsson asked, staring at them.


    You lot ave only had de Greentree tree nuts! Richter said, a smile across his face. These are a South Erden specialty. Ya got tha name right for once Pete. Peanuts! Me mum used ta crushem and put em in her tasty goat curry.


    Penelope knickered angrily, and we all stared at her.


    I know shes smart Aqua muttered. But is she actually understanding what were talking about?


    As if to answer, Penelope flicked her tail and sauntered into the pub, the four of us watching her sashay away like a cat whod just flicked an expensive vase off the counter.


    There was a brief knot of silence until Kirk cleared his throat. *Ahem* Well, far be it from me to let a princess walk into a pub unapanied. He strode up the ramp and we all followed after.


    The peanut shells continued into the main building, making a coat so thick you couldnt see the floor. The pub was rip-roaring, with a bard ying the traditional dwarven bagpipes in a back corner. He had a one-armed giant apanying him on a drum set. Thebination made for a heady pub song. I wouldve normally sung along, but we had a goat to save.


    Or rather the goat had saved <i>us</i>. Seats, that was.


    Penelope had browbeat a pair of drunken dwarves out of a corner booth, and was proudly sitting in the middle seat, a smug look on her face.


    We sidled to either side of her. Richter and Johnsson on the left, and Kirk and I on her right, leaving Aqua to re usingly at the full booth.


    Sorry, you wont fit. I shrugged.


    Aye. Its all those sweets you and Opal have been eatin. Johnsson snickered.


    Richter shuffled sideways to avoid the ssh zone as Aqua menacingly pulled a small truncheon off her belt.


    We ignored Johnsons piteous screams as we read over the menu on the table. This was more of a bar than a pub, as outside of the peanuts and the usual dwarven snack of pickles, there wasnt anything else other than the beer.


    They had True Brew, and Light Brew.


    So far, so normal.


    But then they also had a small selection of their own brews! The times, they were a changin!


    They had an ale called <i>Golden Brew</i>, which I suspected was a rip-off of our <i>liquid gold</i>. If so, I''d need to do nothing. Half the point of all this rigmarole was to convince the other breweries to try new recipes. I was d to see it was working.


    And they had a signature light brew they called Lucky.


    By all tha bits o tha Gods, they had freaking <i>LUCKY</i>!!!


    That was what it was called! Lucky! Lucky Lager!!! The buck-a-beer All-Canadian brew of the drunken hoser!


    The drink menu says that <i>Lucky</i> grants the <i>Minor Luck</i> Condition. Aqua said as she read over the menu. Thats interesting. It would exin why theyre so popr with adventurers. Minor Luck doesnt really do much, but if youre living on the edge of a knife, it could be enough to be the difference between life and death. I wonder how they do it?


    That must be how they won tha preliminary contest back in their hometown, Johnsson mused. Beer that gives you a bit a luck to help find a new gold vein, or survive a hard fight, or craft somethin just a little better? Every dwarf loves a bit of luck. I could see something like that winnin the contest for defines a dwarf if every other brewery just put out a regr brew.


    I immediately demanded a whole keg when the red-bearded barmaid came to get our drink orders. I <i>may</i> have been manic while ordering. Kirk and Aqua ordered the Golden Brew, Richter ordered a True Brew, and Johnsson asked for some ice for his bruises. Then Penelope pointed a dainty hoof at the menu and gave amanding bleat. The barmaid shot us a questioning look and we shrugged as one.


    Bring her a Golden Brew in a bowl. Aqua muttered. She was currently seated in Johnssons old spot, Johnsson having decided to hold up the wall next to the table.


    As the barmaid left with our order, Richter turned to me with a concerned look. Pete? Why do ya look like a miner who found himself a freschie?


    They have Lucky Lager! I squealed with glee.


    And?


    Its something from back home!


    Ah! Yer <i>HOME </i>ya mean? He waggled his eyebrows and pointed at Kirk, indicating what he really meant.


    Aye.


    Dont you <i>objectify </i>me. Kirk objected.


    Richter ignored him. Was it yer favourite brew?


    Hah! No, more like <i>least favourite pig swill</i>, but it was cheap and plentiful. A quick inexpensive way to get drunk in college. Ill bet you the dwarven version tastes <i>just as bad</i>.


    Conversation ceased as I practically vibrated in my seat. Everyone gave me side-eye, including the bloody goat.


    The barmaid returned with a tter of drinks, as well as a bowl of peanuts and some pickles. She was apanied by an tanned easterner with a bright ginger beard and an even brighter smile. He wore an armoured kilt, along with a leather cuirass, and a set of horn-rimmed sses. He was carrying a cleaning cloth on his belt, and a fine dagger in a sheath on his hip.


    Hallo, you lot. Is that goat yers? He asked, brightly, pointing at Penelope. He had a clear and chipper easterner ent, much like Sams.


    *Baaah!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] I am a <idy</i>, not some mere that goat!


    Yes, is that a problem? Aqua asked.


    Nope, Appletina here was just saying there was somethin interestin happenin, yaknow? He patted the barmaid on the back and she nodded.


    Aye, a unigoat orderin a brew straight from the menu! It was sure somethin to see!


    He gave us a shing grin. Im Master Brewer Herder, the owner of this establishment, but you can call me Ironbellows when yer drinkin my beer. Wee to Lucky Jeans! Who might you folk be?


    Appletina and Ironbellows were odd names for dwarves. More gnomish, I wouldve thought. I <i>had </i>heard that the gnomes had a bigger influence on the development of the East, so that was one possible exnation.


    I pointed at Penelope. Thats, uh, Pen, and Im Peede. Nica ta meet ya. I barely remembered in time that we were technically here incognito. Thankfully, I kept my tongue from betraying our true names.


    I held out my hand and we bumped fists. As we did, he gave me a focused look that Ide to associate with someone using an Ability. I managed to hold back a frown; that was pretty rude to do on a friendly first meeting.


    He looked from Kirk, to Penelope, to Aqua, to Richter, and back to me, and his smile widened even further. You must be from the Thirsty Goat brewpub! Here to scope out yourpetition!


    Uh Shit! We were made! Abort! Abort! Abort!


    Which would make you Brewer Roughtuff, he continued, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, and youre an Otherworlder, arent you.


    Six pairs of wide eyes stared at him in shocked silence.


    *BAAAAHHH!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] He knows too much to live!!

 Book 3: Chapter 26: Clan Herder

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 26: n Herder</h4>


    Could we off the proprietor of a popr establishment in the middle of said establishment and get away with it?


    The bar was busy and <i>loud</i>, so there was a chance nobody would notice. Though it was possible the pounding was all in my ears


    How did Ironbellows know that I was an Otherworlder? Was he guessing? Did he just <i>suspect</i>? Had they sessfully bugged our tavern and listened in on our conversations?


    All those thoughts swirled through my head as red began seeping into my vision and my fingers slowly crept unbidden to my warhammer. I activated [sh of Insight] to focus my raging thoughts.


    Did it <i>really</i> matter? It wasnt as though the concept of the Chosen was new; itd been going on possibly since the start of time. It was esoteric knowledge, and even if they knew about it, your average person wasnt liable to try and mess with someone <i>literally given a job by the Gods</i>.


    Of course, that left the non-average, like crazy people, powerful people threatened by a Chosens actions, or other Chosen. There was a definite benefit to keeping my status on the lowdown.


    And I wasnt going to off some random Brewer just because theyd asked a question. Deny, deny, deny, that was the ticket!


    What do ya mean by Otherworlder? I asked, as innocently as possible. I tried to activate [White Lie] but this clearly wasnt one. My high Charisma at least kept the quaver out of my voice. Even if he had [Truespeech], that wasnt technically a lie, either.


    Ironbellowsughed and slung an arm over Appletina. Looks like I win tha bet, hun.


    The ginger dwarfess elbowed I guess he had to be her husband gently in the ribs, but didnt try to shove him off. She sighed and kicked one foot morosely. Aye, that you do.


    Aqua held up her hand, her mace already gripped in her other palm. Can someone tell me whats going on? Are we fighting?


    Ironbellows drew back in shock. What?? No! Why would we do that??


    Even <i>Penelope</i> scoffed.


    Ironbellows smug expression slowly shifted to embarrassment. Ah, was it some great secret? I apologize.


    I dont think most dwarves even know that other worlds exist. Richter stated, matter of factly.


    Then its a good thing I said it here where nobodys watchin. Sorry, eh? Ironbellows sketched a small bow.


    Hooooold it! I held my hands up. First, why do ya think Im a you know?


    Ironbellows looked around the room, and shrugged. If yer wantin'' to keep it a secret, lets move this upstairs." He pointed to the ceiling above our heads.


    We nced up, then at each other. Did we trust a possible enemy and walk into his den?


    ggit. I wanna know. Aqua hissed. Pete?


    I sighed. I too wanted to see how deep the rabbit hole went. Im in. Everyone else?


    There was a chorus of Ayes. Worst case, Richter still had that defensive spell ready to go at a moments notice, and Balin could find us easily.


    We followed Ironbellows and Appletina to a locked closet door, which turned out to be the stairwell to the next floor. We followed him up the creaky stairs to a fairly standard hallway. He opened the second door on the left and we were weed into a homey little study. There were several cushy lounge chairs, a bookshelf, a <i>very</i> nice wooden desk, and a corner table covered in paperwork. A trio ofnterns gave off dim light, ying flickering shadows upon the walls. It smelled like old wood andmp oil.


    There was a young dwarf seated at the corner desk, pencil scribbling furiously. He stood up when the door opened and gave us a curious nod as we entered behind Ironbellows. The youngster had a simple traditional knotted beard and wore the grey robes of a journeyman brewer. He did <i>not</i> smell like onions. Neither did Ironbellows,e to think of it.


    Ironbellows nodded back. Journeyman Pennystock, Ill be needin the office fer a bit. Go down and help in the bar. See that were not disturbed.


    Yessir, Master Herder. The dwarf gave us a curious look as he exited, closing the door behind him.


    After a few seconds, Aqua opened the door a crack and peered outside. Hes gone.


    Course he is. Anyone want a smoke? More ta drink? Ironbellows asked, pulling out a pipe and lighting it up.


    Richter and Kirk each epted a pipe, while Johnsson, Penelope, and Aqua each asked for a beer. I was too amped up for either. I did take a moment to use [Check Quality] on the drinks, and take the cold coffee to the fridge.


    Well, where to begin Ironbellows began as we settled in on the various seating surfaces


    The beginning, hun. Appletina said.


    In tha beginning, tha Gods Ironbellows began.


    Not <i>that</i> far back! Appletina smacked her husband on the back of the head.


    Ah. Well, you probably guessed that our pub gets its name from Lucky Jean Herder. Ironbellows continued contritely, swatting her yfully on the arm in return.


    We suspected. I acknowledged. Isnt your beer named after him too?


    Well its less named for and named <i>by</i>. You see, hes tha direct ancestor of our Herder n, and while he didnt create tha brewery, he did start the inn that became it.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been uwfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Richter gasped. Really!? Im surprised you arent a noble! I would ave thought Lucky Jeans family would have enough influence.


    Jean shook his head. Jean didnt want our n to foster nobility . He hated the concept. And theres never been an Eastern noble in our history


    Richter leaned forward onto his knees, his eyes gleaming. Do ya have any of his records?


    Ironbellows grinned. Aye, that we do. The [Grandmaster World Explorer] penned journals of all his travels, and his thoughts as well. He was the first to explore a lot of Eastern Crack, and he discovered many secrets. In tha past centuries weve shared some with the Academy, but not all. Included among the unreleased books is a diary he kept about his life on a world called Earth.


    Everyone looked over at me, except Richter who was making grabbing motions at the Book. Well, I guess that <i>absolutely</i> killed whatever little deniability I had left.


    I sighed. So, what made ya think I was an Otherworlder?


    Ironbellows stood and walked over to a bookshelf. He pulled a dusty leather-bound tome from it, and gave it a loving nce before passing it over to me.


    The title on the front was <i>La Bonne Aventure</i>.


    I blinked. My internal trantor wasnt tranting the words; it must only work on Crackiannguages.


    <i>The Good Adventure</i>, I mused. As every good Canadian I knew enough French to ask where the bathroom was, say that I loved French fries, and state that the book was on the table. I could also say I dont speak French in perfect French, which had to be a real brain-buster for anyone from France. I could only imagine walking up to someone in Ennd and asking for directions only for them to break out Sorry, I dont speak English with a perfect British ent.


    He <i>can </i>read it! Appletine squealed.


    Hrm, sorry to disappoint, but this isnt my native tongue. I may be able to read a bit, but not all of it.


    Nobody else has been able ta read tha writin in that journal in tha thousands of years weve had it. Ironbellows exined.


    Did you say <i>thousands</i>!? I stared at the book in wonder. Its in incredible shape!


    Ironbellows nodded. Jean had an Ability to keep documents safe. These books will never rot or catch fire or damp so long as they are owned by someone of his n. He called it his <i>great gift.</i>


    More like a <i>cheat</i> if its like mine I muttered, as I opened the book and began reading.


    The dedication at the front read. <i>Libert, Egalit, Fraternit</i>.


    Huh. You said he hated the nobility? That makes sense. He must have been around during the French Revolution. But he was alive <i>thousands</i> of years ago! The revolution was only a couple hundred years in Earths past.


    Time is not constant between universes. Richter put in. And souls can sit around fer a long time.


    We can discuss universal meta-physicster. Aqua said, her eyes sparkling. What does it <i>say</i>? This is so exciting!! I always loved stories about Lucky Jean when we were learning Crack history!


    I opened it up and began reading aloud. The forward was written in dwarven runic, though in what seemed to be an older dialect. To my descendants, or whomever else is reading. This journal contains my past on the world of Earth, my thoughts on what the future will hold, and details on an event called the Game of the Gods. Members of my n should always know how to spot one of the pieces in the Game the beings the Gods call Chosen Catalysts. Should you find one of them, do your utmost to tie beards with them, as they can bring great wealth and power to our n. They should appear approximately every 4000 years.


    And Jean Herder explored Crack about 12,000 years ago Richter mused. The time is right.


    I speed-read the next few paragraphs, which mostly contained information we already knew. Chosen would be the epicenter of change and revolution, they would be surrounded by Titled, theyd probably have Godly weapons/armour/Abilities, and they would Specialise faster and have higher stats than your average dwarf. There was also a warning to avoid any Chosen with warlike or political tendencies.


    I flipped the page. The next chapter was in French, and I could barely make out one word in five.


    I frowned at Ironbellows. So, is this how ya guessed I was a Chosen?


    Aye, he said. Yer tavern is famous for having nearly every worker Titled. I talked with yer Guildmaster, Malt, and he said you became a [Brewer] faster than anyone hed ever seen. And then there was all tha chaos youve been brewin with yer brews. Seemed to fit, and yer reaction proved it!


    Ugh. Fine sleuthing indeed, and if <i>he</i> could figure it out. Damn, is everyone going to know?


    Ironbellows shrugged. Im not sure this ismon knowledge.


    Richter shook his head. I did a bunch of reading back when we were tryin to figure out what in da Nether you were, Pete. There were a few references to other worlds, but nuttin bout da Chosen.


    Appletina jumped in, a bit desperately, And we only approached you after we spent a few months looking into you lot. Youre good folk, hard working dwarves with a love of the brew. We were actually going toe visit after ourpetition, but you beat us to it! We really dont want to fight!


    But the most important part is in the back. Ironbellows said, pulling my attention to the back of the book. Jean left a letter.


    I flipped to the back chapter, which was a very short epilogue. It had a small paragraph in dwarven, another in English, and the rest in French.


    Before I could start reading, Ironbellows quoted it out from memory. To you Chosen, who my n has chosen. I hope that you will take my generosity to heart, and treat my n well. Our n has always wondered what it says next!


    I nodded, reading along in my head. The next sentence was in English, with terrible grammar. I had to read it a few times to understand, then chuckled, darkly.


    What!? What!? Aqua squealed.


    Its a bunch of insults. Seems he wasnt a fan of the British or Americans. He says that he has nothing to leave a dog of the King, and America should have chosen their allies better.


    Ironbellows looked crestfallen, and I held up a hand to forestall him.


    Theres a bunch more in Jeans native tongue. Its short, and I recognize <i>some</i> of the words, so Ill give it a shot. No guarantees.


    I squinted at the page for a few minutes, then pointed out words I recognized. *Ahem*. Alright, it starts with tha word fer <ipatriot </i>or maybe <i>countryman. </i>Then tha word fer friend. The verb <i>offrir, </i>which Im pretty sure means ta offer. Cant read the next bit... these words are gold and silver. I think this next word is treasure? And this next bit trantes to the White Wall. I petered off as I felt the oppressive weight of every eye boring down on me.


    Everyone screamed at once, DID YOU SAY <i>TREASURE!?</i>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: The Travellers Treasure</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>What treasures await? Only the Gods could know. Hey, that''s me!</i><i></i>


    <i>It probably isnt just the friends youll make along the way!</i>


    <i>Treasure Found: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.5 Intelligence, Treasure?</i>


    <i><strong>Do you ept?</strong></i>


    <i>Yes / No</i>

 Book 3: Chapter 27: French Lessons

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 27: French Lessons</h4>


    ¡°Voulez-vous bouche avec moi.¡± I muttered.


    Aqua¡¯s reply was shrill. ¡°SPEAK DWARVEN!!¡±


    ¡°Enchante des poisson!!¡±


    ¡°I t¡¯ink da correct term is ¡®dwarfish¡¯, Aqua.¡± Richter pointed out.


    ¡°NOT NOW RICHTER!!¡± Aqua shook my shoulders again.


    I finally snapped. ¡°I cannae concentrate on it if yer all hangin¡¯ over my shoulders like this!! By Yearn¡¯s Yummy Yams, bugger off!!!¡±


    I was seated at Ironbellows'' desk, leaning over Jean¡¯s journal and desperately trying to trante the rest of thest page. It wasn¡¯t going well, and I was at my wit¡¯s end. I even had the [Stressed] Condition, which probably wasn¡¯t helping things.


    My discontent was met by a wall of angry energy from a grumble with treasure on the line.


    Johnsson was the first to shout back, ¡°If ya could read <i>some </i>of it, why can¡¯t ya read tha rest of it!!¡±


    ¡°Because I don¡¯t <i>remember</i> the rest of it!¡±


    ¡°Try soundin¡¯ de words out loud?¡± Richter said, helpfully.


    ¡°Ughh, ya sound like me French teacher, Madame Gerard! I cannae remember what I cannae remember! I ¡®aven¡¯t done any French in years!!! And I wasn¡¯t even very good at it!¡±


    The room descended into nervous antsy silence. Ever since I¡¯d done that first trantion, everyone had been going <i>bonkers </i>trying to parse out where Jean¡¯s ¡®treasure¡¯ was. So far we¡¯d been able to pick out that it was in Whitewall, with a reference to an ¡°Iron Court¡±, and a string of different numbers and associated distance units.


    So we had enough of the picture to know we were on a treasure hunt, but not enough to be able to actually find it.


    Everyone was understandably frustrated.


    All the already-tranted bits were pinned to one of the walls along with maps and other notes. Lines of string criss-crossed them like some kind of conspiracy theorist¡¯s wet dream. Ironbellows and Kirk were busy reading over every history or geography book the Herder¡¯s owned for the umpteenth time, while Appletina moved pins around on the wall.


    I buried my face in my hands. ¡°Ugghhhh, If only I¡¯d been a better student in high school! Mum always said French would be a valuable tool one day, but this is <i>ridiculous</i>!¡±


    Aqua sat down beside me with a *whuff*. ¡°Sorry. Pushing harder probably isn¡¯t going to help you remember better.¡±


    ¡°Hey, <i>you¡¯re </i>the [Counselor]! Do you have any counselling to offer?¡±


    Aqua scratched her beard in thought. ¡°Hmm¡­. well, what have you tried?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, the <i>only</i> reason we¡¯ve gotten so far is my higher Intelligence. I¡¯m amazed I remember <i>this</i> much.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re just trying to do it by memory? Like you always have?¡±


    ¡°Uh, how else?¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re in <i>Erd </i>now. Do you have any Abilities that would help?¡±


    I stared nkly at her for a moment, then slowly palmed my face. ¡°Argghh,¡± I moaned. ¡°I got so caught up in high-school shbacks that I didn¡¯t <i>think</i>! [sh of Insight]!¡±


    A few ideas and half-remembered French verbs shed into my head, but one stood out like a beacon. I jumped to my feet with a shout of joy, and the attention of the room snapped back to me.


    ¡°What is it!?¡± Johnsson asked. ¡°Dijda remember?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I cheered. ¡°But I¡¯m now super thankful to Madame Gerard! After two years of horrific nightmare homework nights, that French Book and I were <i>GODSDAMN INTIMATE!</i> [Pete¡¯s MIniature Remembrance]!!¡±


    I posed dramatically, and everyone held their breath as with a barely audible *pop* a hardcover textbook plopped into my outstretched hand. The cover read, ¡°Tres Amis: Textbook and French-English Dictionary¡±. It was ratty, and dishevelled, and <i>glorious</i>!


    I thumped it down on the desk and slumped back in my seat as a weight lifted from my shoulders.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Aqua asked, looking the textbook over. ¡°It¡¯s falling apart.¡±


    ¡°Years of being passed down will do that,¡± I said. ¡°We got it second hand from someone who <i>also</i> got it second hand. Madame Gerard let me keep it because it was going to be discarded at the end of the year and I wanted to build a memorial of my hatred for it.¡±


    Richter snapped the book up. ¡°¡®Dis is a <i>school</i> text? From Earth! Let me see!¡± He flipped open the pages and his face fell. ¡°I can¡¯t read any of it.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s not a Dwarvish-French textbook. It¡¯s an ENGLISH-French textbook. Well, more of an English-Quebecois textbook, but I never really understood the difference.¡±


    I began copying out the text in earnest, though a few words weren¡¯t in the dictionary. Time passed quickly as each new set of words was added to the board, and the electricity in the room grew.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    We were on a treasure hunt! An <i>ACTUAL </i>treasure hunt! A treasure hunt started by the greatest dwarven explorer of all time! It was like being in an Indiana Jones movie! One of the <i>good</i> ones! Without nuclear fridges or alien beer goggles or whatever.


    Suddenly, Richter shouted out, lifting up an old book he¡¯d pulled from the office shelves. ¡°I T¡¯INK I¡¯VE GOT IT! Jean said ta ¡®Search Beneath De Golden Mount! Come and see!¡±


    Richter¡¯s shoulder was immediately mobbed by the entire room. He was reading a book of Kinshasan architecture andndmarks, and the full-page painting was of a golden mountain covered in sparkling gems, surrounded by dwarves with pick-axes. The style was simplistic, but it had a certain rustic charm.


    ¡°That¡¯s certainly a golden mountain. Where is it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s <i>Tiara¡¯s Hold</i> in de Greybeard¡¯s Lyceum!¡± Richter chattered excitedly. ¡°It''s a mosaic made of real gold and jade and precious jewels! It was built a few years before Jean left on his final journey, and it was gifted to de city by a secret donor! It took ¡®em over a year to build it, and de Lyceum was closed de whole time!¡±


    Appletina pointed at the map of the city tacked to the wall. ¡°Greybeard¡¯s Lyceum is this big amphitheatre in Whitewall, right here, past <i>The Iron Court</i>.¡±


    ¡°What is it? Is it Greybeards only? I dunno if I¡¯m willing to wait several hundred years to get a grey enough beard to finish this. Can we get Malt to do it?¡± Johnsson grumbled.


    Richter thumbed to another page in his book. ¡°It says here that it¡¯s where ¡®de Council of Greybeards teach and listen to ¡®de lesser nobles. It¡¯s a way fer ¡®da nobility to grumble to da King¡¯s advisors. Even ¡®de King goes there sometimes, to give speeches or hearints.¡±


    Aqua finished scribbling in her personal notebook with a flourish. ¡°I think we have the mechanism fully mapped too. We need to turn some statues, sing a tune, then push a specific tile, and it should open a secret door!¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Seems needlesslyplex.¡±


    ¡°But, what if somebody already found it?? It¡¯s been such a long time.¡± Appletina groaned..


    The atmosphere fell a bit at that, and I tried to change the subject.


    ¡°What¡¯s this ¡®Iron Court¡¯?¡± I pointed at the map. ¡°You said we need to go through there, first?¡±


    Richter thumbed through another book he¡¯d been reading and held it up for me to see. The image was of a dark, square room with tall pirs inside it. It reminded me of the sewers beneath Tokyo. ¡°The Iron Court is a giant cave with walls covered in Dark Iron. It connects to de Pce, as well as n holdings of de oldest and biggest ns in Crack. We¡¯re talking about ckbeards, Underhills, and Barnes among others.¡±


    I twitched; that name and I had <i>history.</i> ¡°Wait, Barnes? Like <i>PROPHET </i>Barnes?¡±


    Richter nodded. ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°<i>OUR</i> Prophet Barnes??¡±


    ¡°How do ya think he became Prophet of Minnova? There¡¯s more than a few [Prophets], but most get sent to smaller towns, not put in charge of grand Cathedrals!¡±


    ¡°But¡­ he ate at our pub! <i>Every week</i>! Like¡­ just some <i>guy!</i>¡±


    Aqua giggled. ¡°He¡¯s a fixture of Minnova at this point. He¡¯s our [<i>Prophet</i>], not just some noble. The [Prophet] eats where the [Prophet] wants.¡±


    ¡°Like a four hundred kilo gori.¡± I muttered.


    ¡°But how are we going to get <i>in</i> there!?¡± Johnsson whined. ¡°We aren¡¯t even allowed in ckwall, let alone <i>Whitewall</i>!¡±


    Ah, yes. No good adventure wasplete without a few roadblocks! I activated my second [sh of Insight] to speed things along. The answer that popped into my head, in retrospect, was pretty obvious.


    ¡°Doc Opal has family connections. She may be able to get us into Whitewall, or know somebody who could.¡± I exined. "Heck, she seemed to know Barnes''s family when they came by the pub in Minnova."


    There was excited murmuring.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll ask her tonight at the ¨C ¡± I began, but stopped as an audible *thump* carried up from the floor. At the same time, a string of papers fell off the conspiracy wall and fluttered to the ground.


    ¡°Um, did anyone else feel that?¡± I asked, ncing around.


    Ironbellowsughed. ¡°We¡¯re a bar fer adventurers. It¡¯s just another fight; we get ¡®em a lot. Nothin¡¯ down there worth worrying about. ¡®Cept maybe my apprentices, eh? Hah!¡±


    I smiled. ¡°We get those too. Mebbe not as bad since our clientele is mostly travellers and locals.¡±


    ¡°Adventurers can be a different breed,¡± Ironbellows nodded. ¡°Tha rules are: no Abilities or Magic, just ta keep tha ce from falling down.¡±


    There was another, louder, THUMP from below us, followed by some crashing. Ironbellows frowned. ¡°It¡¯s a good bit louder than usual.¡±


    Appletina crossed her arms. ¡°I hope it''s not a dungeon break. We¡¯ve been lucky so far, but they <i>are</i> a serious possibility in Yellowwall this close to the dungeon, especially recently.¡±


    Ironbellows shook his head. ¡°They told us there¡¯d be an rm bell. Certainly would be a capper if it happened tonight!¡±


    Johnsson¡¯s eyes flickered usingly to me and I rolled my own. If it <i>was</i> a dungeon break, I was <i>absolutely</i> ming Balin for it. Let him take some of the heat for once. But, given the totalck of red dots on my [Map], we were probably fine. I gave Johnsson a little thumbs-up, and he calmed down.


    ¡°Should I check on it?¡± Appletina asked.


    ¡°Mebbe...¡± Ironbellows muttered.


    There was another, louder, BOOM and the entire building vibrated. Ironbellows¡¯ face grew grave. ¡°No. We should <i>all </i>¨C ¡°


    He was interrupted as the young dwarf from earlier leaped into the room, locking the door behind him. ¡°Sir! Ya need toe right away! ¡°


    Ironbellows jumped to his feet. ¡°What¡¯s tha matter Pennystock?¡±


    ¡°Some crazy adventurin¡¯ team is throwin¡¯ Abilities around! They¡¯re wreckin¡¯ <i>everythin¡¯</i>!! Team Granite Heart is holdin¡¯ ¡®em back, but someone¡¯s gonna get really hurt!¡±


    ¡°ARGH! Those bastards! Are they drunk!?¡±


    ¡°No, Master Herder! They came in and were demandin¡¯ to speak to ¡®tha owner¡¯! When I told ¡®em you were busy and not to be disturbed they got real angry, and then stuff just got out of hand!¡±


    Richter stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯m a [Healer]. I can help if anyone¡¯s hurt.¡±


    Ironbellows breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Good! I think I saw Healer James from Team Sandcat down there too. Can anyone else help?¡±


    Kirk put up his hand, and I hefted my warhammer. Aqua looked a bit pensive, but stepped up as well. Johnsson¡­ put on his best game face.


    At which point Balin smashed through the door, his armor shining with the light of a thousand torches and his grimace promising bloody violence. Annie stood at his back, holding a shield and keeping a bevvy of apprentice brewers at bay.


    ¡°WHERE¡¯S ME BROTHER, YA ELFIN MUDWORMS!?!¡± Balin screamed.


    I had the good grace to look sheepish.


    I, uh, probably should¡¯ve sent someone to tell Balin we¡¯d bete.

 Book 3: Chapter 28: Tablero da Gucci

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 28: Tablero da Gi</h4>


    It took a while, and a round on the house (me, <i>I</i> was the house) for us to calm an entire bar full of angry adventurers. Team Brightstar had done a number on the furniture and a few patrons, but with two [Healers] in attendance the injured got patched right up. When everyone learned what was going on they found the whole situation <i>hrious</i>, but still wanted drinks for the trouble.


    Then someone connected the fact that The Thirsty Goat and Lucky Jean¡¯s werepetitors for the next round of the Octamillenial Brewing contest, and things got heated again. As any good regrs, the patrons were very protective of their watering hole. ¡°Dirty Spies¡± got tossed around a few times, along with ¡°Tunnel Snakes¡± and ¡°Beardless Rats¡±. Thankfully Ironbellows got the rowdy adventurers calmed down by saying we were actually ¡°Good Mates¡±.


    Still, the adventurers were bloody minded and the mood called for a show, so we decided to have a good natured Feud. Thankfully Eastern Crack was more epting of drinking contests than the more traditional West, and their Golden Brew was ptable enough for me to stomach it. Ironbellows called up all his Journeymen and Apprentices, and we had a Thirsty Goat vs Lucky Jean¡¯s drinking Feud.


    I, of course, drank everyone under the table. With no pro-drinkers on the level of good old Ho-Ho-Ho Rumbob topete with me, I ruthlessly crushed the opposition. The gathered drunken adventurers cheered as I emptied my tenth ss of Golden Brew while thest Apprentice Brewer of Lucky Jean¡¯s slid unconscious off the bench.


    My belch was a victory call that shook the heavens.


    I was <i>hoping </i>the crowd would clear after that and we could go back to talking treasure, but instead Starshine got up and proudly announced that Brightstar had just passed their adventuring certification.


    At which point the mob-turned-contest turned into a godsdamn <i>party</i>. Some bright soul ran out to get a [Bard], and half the bar turned into a drunken mosh pit.


    With everything going on, there was no way we were going to get any more treasure hunting done. So instead I found myself seated across the table from a revived Ironbellows preparing to y one of my favourite drinking games: <i>Tablero</i>.


    ¡°I¡¯m a big fan of <i>Thud</i> meself.¡± Ironbellows said proudly,ying out a familiar checkerboard. ¡°Can beat most folk. Chess too.¡±


    ¡°Of <i>course</i> someone brought over chess.¡± I snickered. ¡°I¡¯ll bet it exists in every corner of the multiverse.¡±


    ¡°Tha multiverse?¡±


    ¡°An infinite number of universes each of which contains their own version of a traumatized teenager in a spider suit.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Just smile and nod.¡± Richter muttered as he watched me set up the board. ¡°Ya lose less beard hairs ¡®dat way.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go join everyone else at the party, Richter? Show yer support fer team Brightstar?¡± I snipped. ¡°And mayhaps you all could appreciate my attempts at given¡¯ ya grey beards!¡±


    Richter shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t like dis new style of music. Makes my ears bleed.¡±


    Sigh. Couldn¡¯t argue with that. The bard was ying covers of Raspberrysyrup¡¯s popr new country mining songs. They hadn¡¯t quite gotten the beat right, and it was worse than listening to Toby Keith.


    ¡°Can ya tell me what you¡¯re setting up.¡± Ironbellows asked, pulling out his own beer journal and a pencil.


    ¡°Like I said before, the game is called <i>Tablero da Gi</i> ¨C Tablero fer short.¡±


    ¡°Is itmon in ¨C ,¡± Ironbellows looked around conspiratorially. ¡°uh, yer hometown?¡±


    ¡°You know? Not really. It¡¯s not asmon as beer pong, that¡¯s fer sure.¡±


    ¡°Beer pong?¡±


    ¡°Oooh! I know ¡®dis one!¡± Richter said excitedly. ¡°It¡¯s great fun! We have some tables set up in ¡®da courtyard at ¡®de Thirsty Goat!¡±


    ¡°Aye, juste by sometime and I¡¯ll y a game with you. As fer yer question, Tablero was created by a group of crazy people called the SCA ¨C the Society for Creative Anachronism. My wife ¨C Caroline ¨C she was always more into than me; she loved doing crochet.¡±


    Ironbellows frowned. ¡°A society fer creatively being traditional? How do ya be creatively traditional? Then it wouldn¡¯t be traditional.¡±


    ¡°See? Crazy! They sit around in old clothes and talk in old dialects while pretendin¡¯ they live in old times!¡±


    ¡°I suppose I could see the draw.¡± Appletina admitted. ¡°Our Ancestors did have lives worth celebrating and learning from.¡±


    Richters eyes narrowed. ¡°If they¡¯re so crazy, how do ya know so much about ¡®em.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Who says <i>I</i> wasn¡¯t crazy?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I made <i>mead</i>. It¡¯s impossible not to get involved with the local SCA if you make mead. And I got to throw axes<i>!¡±</i>


    ¡°What¡¯s so special about ¡®dat?


    ¡°Uh. Touche. But you really would''ve appreciated the music. Some of their drinking songs were gold.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Are ya gunnin¡¯ to be the next Raspberrysyrup?¡± Ironbellows waggled his eyebrows.


    I hesitated, and Ironbellows rolled his eyes. ¡°If you think you lot were obvious,¡± he snickered. ¡°She was a damn beacon! We didn¡¯t want ta get near her, eh!¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± I was suddenly concerned about our tight ties to Berry. If a simple brewery like Lucky Jean¡¯s was privy to so much information about the Chosen Catalysts, what would other families have? Especially if they had old nmates that were Chosen themselves.


    Just like ¨C


    I felt my heart plummet. Just like old ns like the <i>POTS</i>.


    How much did Copperpot actually know? How much did he suspect? His n was <i>founded</i> by a Chosen; he <i>had</i> to know. He¡¯d been too quick to jump on board with us. Too quick to believe in absolutely everything we did. I¡¯d been putting it down to business acumen and the incredible sess of Boomdust, but now¡­


    I would need to have a <i>serious</i> chat with the wise-aleck [Engineer] when I next had the chance. Sooner rather thanter.


    I took a deep breath and put it out of mind. There was nothing I could do about it now, and it was better to concentrate on what I <i>could</i> do. Namely whupping this lucky SOAB in one of my favourite games.


    ¡°Last but not least we need a pair of dice,¡± I said, as I finished rolling out the chess board.


    ¡°You can use mine.¡± Richter said, pulling two six-sided topaz-coloured gems out of his pocket. Multi-sided gems with carved runes weremonly used in dwarven gambling, and I still hadn¡¯t had an opportunity to introduce card games. I was really starting to miss rummy.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be ying using Whistlemugs of Golden Brew as soon as ¨C ah, there she is. Thanks Appletina.¡± I nodded at the pretty dwarfess as she put seven Whistlemugs on the table then rested her fist on her hip,


    ¡°Alright. You need to tell me what yer up to, eh?¡± She said, brightly.


    ¡°Gettin¡¯ drunk. <i>With style</i>,¡± I said with gusto. ¡°If you want to watch, that¡¯s perfect ¨C we¡¯ll need ya in just a tick.¡±


    Tablero was yed on a seven by seven board with seven shot-sses, though a chess board worked in a pinch. Lucky Jean¡¯s wascking in shots, but Whistlemugs worked just fine for the oversized dwarven chess boards. The wide leather roll-out chess boards werebined withicallyrge chess pieces to allow for easier kibitzing.


    Yes. Kinshasan¡¯s kibitzed at chess. Loudly, while drunk. Filthy heathens.


    Well, at least it meant that we had ample space to y. I set the Whistlemugs lovingly down on the end squares one at a time. These particr models were ¡°Octamillenial Special Editions¡±; Appletina had brought out the <i>good</i> ssware!


    The first mug went on the closest right corner, then one more mug in alternating squares down the row. I then did the same on Ironbellows¡¯s side. That put three on my end line, and three on Ironbellow¡¯s side. The idea was that each mug could march freely down their column without running into another mug.


    The seventh mug was ced on the center square.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, turning to Appletina. ¡°We need you to roll the dice first. Whatever you roll bes the Queen¡¯s ¨C er, I guess the <i>King¡¯s </i>number.¡±


    Appletina shrugged, took the dice from me, and rolled on the table. They came up showing six and two.


    ¡°Eight.¡± I sucked in my breath. ¡°Well, that¡¯s pretty average, but rough for your first game.¡±


    ¡°The <i>rules</i> Pete?¡± Ironbellows choked back augh. ¡°Yer more distractible than a cat chasin¡¯ a longbeard.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s onest step! You and I roll off. Winner gets the mug from the middle to put on their side of the board, and gets to go first.¡±


    We each rolled, leaving me with a five, and Ironbellows with a four. I whisked the mug away and ced it in my left corner.


    ¡°Now. I¡¯m going to roll the dice, and see what we get. Three and six! That makes nine! A good start! I now need to move two different mugs, one of them three and the other one six. The goal is to make a line of six or seven in a row, or make a diagonal of seven. We¡¯ll move the mugs back and forth until one of us makes the line. If you can¡¯t move a mug the exact number of spaces because you¡¯ve run out of room, you skip your turn.¡±


    ¡°Seems simple enough.¡± Ironbellows rolled a two and a one. He groaned. ¡°Argh, a low roll.¡±


    ¡°Eh, doesn¡¯t really matter. There¡¯s no benefit to having the line closer to your side or mine. This is a <i>drinking</i> game; there isn¡¯t much strategy.¡±


    ¡°I can see that. Ah, before I forget to mention. Regardless of what happens, we''re still going to try to win the brewing contest.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn''t have it any other way.¡± I rolled a seven and tossed the dice back. ¡°Seven, eleven, and twelve are a skip. So I miss my turn. Your go.¡±


    Ironbellows rolled and soon we were moving mugs back and forth, chatting about life, beer, the contests, the monolith that was Kinshasa and more.


    Eventually I rolled an eight. ¡°Ah, the King¡¯s number!¡± I took one of the mugs from the board and intoned, ¡°Gods save tha King!¡± Then I chugged it back with a single gulp.


    Ironbellow gave me a look of horror, and Appletina choked. ¡°I couldn¡¯t believe it when werepetin¡¯, and I <i>still</i> can¡¯t. How did ya <i>drink</i> it that fast!?¡±


    ¡°Practice. Now, as you saw, if you roll the King¡¯s number, you need to toast the King with a random mug. You can¡¯t do it the same way twice, so get flowery with it; it¡¯ll get harder as you get drunker!¡± I passed the empty mug to Appletina to refill, then ced it back where I¡¯d gotten it from.


    ¡°I still get my turn though,¡± I continued. ¡°If the King¡¯s number was a pass number ¨C that¡¯s seven, eleven, or twelve ¨C then I would put the ss on <i>your </i>baseline instead of back where I got it from.¡±


    ¡°And then skip yer turn?¡±


    ¡°You got it.¡±


    After a few more minutes, Ironbellows made a row of seven. ¡°Hah! Got it! Now what?¡±


    ¡°Now I drink half of them, rounded up.¡±


    I tossed the four mugs back and shivered from the sour, cruddy taste.


    Ironbellows watched me with a mixture of disgust and amusement. ¡°Yer mad. I¡¯ve seen dwarves knocked off their feet fer drinkin¡¯ just <i>three</i> as fast as they could, and you just downed four faster than any dwarf I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    ¡°What about ¡®de other three mugs?¡± Richter asked, taking notes.


    ¡°I give them to whomever I want. INCLUDING the spectators. So that¡¯s one fer Mister Herder here, one to you Richter, and one to you Appletina, thanks for watching!¡±


    Appletina guffawed and drank hers with good grace, while Richter chuckled ruefully.


    We soon gathered a crowd as onlookers came to kibitz at chess then found something even more fun to kibitz. People were soon shouting which mugs to move, who to give the extra drinks to, or what body part of the King to toast next.


    We were on ¡°May Yearn give a lovin¡¯ tap to tha King¡¯s left nut¡± when Ironbellows gave a massive belch and fell to the table.


    ¡°Argghhh¡­ when does it <i>end</i>!? How do we decide who <i>wins!?</i>¡± he groaned.


    ¡°We *hic* ¨C¡± I was getting a bit tipsy too, ¡°We end it when we run out of beer. Whoever can¡¯t fill a ss from the pitcher first, loses.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Ironbellows eyed where Appletina had now ced out a third pitcher. ¡°Me bearded beauty has been bringin¡¯ out fresh pitchers. We¡¯re not <i>gonna</i> run out of beer!¡±


    I picked up a full mug from the board and gave it a demure sip. ¡°Uh Huh!¡±


    WIth that, Ironbellows gave another groan and slumped off the table, out like a light.


    ¡°And <i>that</i>!¡± I said as the raucous cheering began. ¡°Is the <i>other</i> way to win at Tablero!¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 29: Bentley - But Not The Car

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 29: Bentley - But Not The Car</h4>


    It was official. The best part about Erd was that hangovers were practically non-existent with a high enough Vitality. I still took longer to get drunk than the average dwarf, too. I still wasn¡¯t quite sure <i>why</i> that was, but who cared! I could consider it a secret cheat from Barck.


    I <i>would </i>have to do something nice for Aishablue. The lovable south-Erden gnomess had been our designated ride home after the party, and she¡¯d done her work admirably. I woke up snug as a bug in a rug in my bed, and then toddered up to breakf¨Clunch. I ate some very salty soup with very salty erdroot biscuits, then went to saltily do daily chores in the brewroom. Aqua, Kirk, and Richter did <i>not</i> have my Vitality, so they would be a while. Balin probably had me beat for Vitality, but hadn¡¯t bothered toe out of the hole he was holed up in with Annie.


    I took all of the above to mean that not much work was going to be done today.


    And that suited me just fine. I had a lot to think about.


    Or rather, I had a lot to talk about. With specific people. And today was just as good as any to do it, what with all the zombies groaning about the house.


    When the chores were done, I grabbed a coffee from next door, then holed up in the office and began doing what every business owner <i>loved </i>doing most.


    <i>Scheduling</i>.


    Well, <i>I tried </i>to do scheduling. As was inevitable with scheduling, something kepting up.


    *baaaah¡­* [Trante from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Forsooth, why do the things we love cause us such pain??¡±


    I gave an amused nce at our resident prima donna. ¡°You think a love of beer is painful, you should try having <i>children</i>.¡±


    *bleee*ehhh¡­.* *glug* *glug*


    One of the elementals was dutifully pouring water into her mouth while shey sprawled on the floor of the office. How on Erd she¡¯d managed tomunicate that need was beyond me. I was just happy she¡¯d made it back with us.


    The problem was that every time I nced away, she gave piteous moans until I paid attention to her again.


    I eventually bowed to the inevitable and sat down beside her, gently kneading her favourite spot around her horn while I brainstormed. She bleated happily, then groaned again.


    <i>First </i>I was going to talk to Opal and see if there was any way for us to get into Whitewall. Once we had a way in, we¡¯d need to n some epic heist  Ocean¡¯s 11 or Need for Speed Seventeen or whatever it was on now.


    Next person on my list was Berry. It was past time for us to use her more seriously as our celebrity endorsement. She was now famous in Kinshasa in her own right, and was even doing presentations on music-magic to Archis Academy. However, considering what I¡¯d just learned, I was bing loath to link ourselves to her too tightly. <i>Especially</i> when I was nearly positive there were other Chosen running around the city. I was going to need to warn her that any and all old and powerful ns that approached her should be suspect.


    Finally, I had a Pot to hang on a wall. While somehow not getting instantly murdered by whatever shadowy ninjas he had guarding his back. And wasn¡¯t his whole-hearted embrace of Raspberrysyrup suspect now too! GodsDAMMIT!


    But first, Opal. I¡¯d leave the fugging ninjas forst. Or <i>never</i>.


    ¡ª


    Opal wasn¡¯t too hard to find. I simply strong-armed Bran into bringing me into ckwall to meet her at her n¡¯s residence. He had a pass that granted him entry, and it came with a plus-one by default.


    The trip would be almost two hours by foot, less for me with [Long Stride] but Bran didn¡¯t have it, so we went down to the rental stables and took out some goats. Taxis weren¡¯t really a thing here. Instead, most people rented goats at stables located within each district, and then dropped the goats off at another stable. It made it easy to travel around the city, and was paid for by our sizeable taxes. Of course, anyone caught mistreating one of the city unigoats would find that the long arm of thew had nothing on the outraged weaponry of their neighbours. It was my first time traveling by goat-back and it was an enlightening and butt-puckering experience. At least I only screamed louder than the goat once. Okay, twice.


    It took over an hour to reach the monolithic obsidian sheet of ckwall, which shone with inner magic. The guards here were much more alert, showcasing a hard-bitten veteran attitudeparable to the Highwatch. They all wore dark ck armor that matched the general <i>motif</i>. We were required to drop the unigoats off at the gate, where a uniformed city official whisked them away to their stables.


    The guards inspected Bran¡¯s card, swept me over with Abilities, and then let us in with a warning not to wander into restricted areas.


    ¡°How do we know what¡¯s restricted?¡± I whispered to Bran as we walked away from the gate.


    ¡°When someone stabs ya.¡± Bran grunted back.


    ¡°Hah! Wait, you¡¯re serious!?¡±


    ¡°Only a little.¡± Bran smirked.


    I admit I gawked as we walked, but there was a <i>lot</i> to gawk at.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the vition.


    The best way to describe it was as such:


    The atmosphere in Yellowwall was of desperation and decay.


    The atmosphere in Greywall was of hustle and bustle.


    The atmosphere in Redwall was of business and pleasure.


    The atmosphere in <i>ckwall </i>was of pomp and circumstance.


    It had that tasteful minimalism I¡¯de to associate with wine snobs. Not to denigrate wine-snobs, of course! They were some of my best customers, and I was a bit of one myself. But you know the type; a single painting on an entire wall, a lone tree in a field, a firece with exactly two evenly spaced candlesticks on the pristinely clean mantle, a perfectly mowedwn with nothing but a ¡®don¡¯t walk on thewn¡¯ sign on it.


    The buildings here were all single storey affairs, solidly built of a dark grey stone, and the streets were paved with smoother gstones than the rest of the city. Every surface that wasn¡¯t polished was gilded or silvered. Even the freaking <i>gutters</i> were spick and span.


    The few dwarves, and it was <i>only</i> dwarves, that we saw walking the streets had an aloof and je-ne-sais-quois air to them. At least half were escorted by guards or trailed after by minions. And it was so quiet that I felt subconscious of the sound of my heels clicking on the cobblestones.


    ¡°I have to ask,¡± I whispered, ¡°what <i>is</i> Opal¡¯s n? How do they live here? I know her dad is a lord, or something, and her mum is a royal pain.¡±


    ¡°Her n is the Bentleys. They¡¯re one of the fore-runner ns that settled Minnova, and their current head is Torim Bentley. Opal is his oldest child, but they haven¡¯t given her the heir¡¯s name yet. She¡¯s still Opal <i>Sifsdotter.</i>¡± Bran frowned, showing his displeasure at the insult.


    In most dwarven ns it was customary to give the heir of the family the n name, and they would be <i>the</i> Goldstone, or <i>the</i> Malt when it came time for them to inherit. Most others were givenst names like ¡®Jonesson¡¯ or ¡®Bannerdotter¡¯ from one of their parents. They were still Goldstones, or whatever, but they used the n more as a secondst-name.


    Gnomes were the opposite, with their children all using thest noun of their first name, like Copper-<i>pot</i> and Whistle-<i>mop</i>.


    And then there were myriad families that <i>didn¡¯t</i> follow the rules. Naming conventions were always kinda messy, even back on Earth.


    ¡°Why¡¯d they do that?¡± I asked, curiously. ¡°Opal¡¯s very proper, intelligent, and well-respected! She¡¯d make an ideal noble in my most ¡®umble of opinions.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t like that she became a [Doctor]. It¡¯s beneath a noble to be waitin¡¯ on themon folk.¡± Bran spat into the gutter. The globule spattered onto the stone then kept sliding, whisking away down the stones and into a drain before my astonished eyes. That was some <i>nice</i> infrastructure!


    ¡°But¡­ I thought that she was gonna be a noble anyway, ¡®cause of her hard work. Isn¡¯t that why she was spendin¡¯ all that time in tha mine?¡±


    ¡°Aye. She definitely deserves it. But she¡¯ll most likely get it because, one way or another, a Bentley is almost always made the Marquis of Central Crack. It¡¯s not hereditary, it just <i>looks</i> that way, cause the Council of Greybeards scratches the nobles¡¯ backs and they scratch back. And doesn¡¯t that justb Opal¡¯s moustache sideways.¡±


    ¡°<i>Almost</i> always?¡±


    ¡°Aye. Sometimes there¡¯s a Bentley so loutish that tha Greybeards won¡¯t hand out the title out of respect for their Ancestors. Always goes back in a generation or two, though.¡±


    I mulled on that as we walked the streets


    Everywhere I looked, it was clear that there was real <i>power</i> here.


    I felt like a child clomping mud into a house. It was <i>not</i> a good feeling, and was the first time I¡¯d felt that way since bing a dwarf.


    And then we were at the Bentley Estate. I could tell because it had a big sign on the front that said <i>Bentley.</i> It was just as ostentatious as the car. A three-meter wall ran the length of the block, and then disappeared around a corner. There weren¡¯t any guards or other identifying marks, and there wasn¡¯t a soul in sight. It was downright <i>eerie</i>.


    I shivered and went to knock, but Bran stopped me.


    ¡°They know we¡¯re here. They¡¯ll be sendin¡¯ someone toe get us. Hold yer goat.¡±


    After a minute or two, the tall metal gate creaked open, revealing a wide courtyard and a perfectly manicured mosswn. Oh, hey! With a single flowering tree in the middle of it, and nothing else! I¡¯d been right on the money!


    The dwarf that stood in the open gateway looked almost exactly like the [Butler] I¡¯d met at Pot manor. Same ck uniform, same pursed lips like he¡¯d smelt something horrid.


    ¡°Ah, it is you, Artisan Hurler. What brings you today?¡± The butler said, in an ent that reminded me very much of Louis ckbeard. He poked his head out of the gate to look left and right down the street.


    Bran smiled. ¡°Justin¡¯ to talk to Opal. I wanted to share the new dishes I¡¯m preparin¡¯ for the Quarterfinals. This is Peter Roughtuff, the champion Brewer from Minnova. He¡¯s a good friend of ours, and he was hoping to ask Opal for some advice.¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± The [Butler]¡¯s face practically <i>transformed </i>into a beaming smile. Where had <i>that</i>e from!? ¡°May I say that the household is very much enthralled with your cooking. We can¡¯t wait to try what you make next. Chef Bronzebeard is worried you¡¯ll take her job!¡±


    ¡°Bah! Not likely. I got a contest to win and a restaurant to run!¡±


    The [Butler] turned his beaming smile on me and gave a quick headbob. ¡°And any friend of Opal¡¯s is a friend of the family.¡±


    The [Butler] and Bran seemed to be great friends, chatting merrily away as we walked the stone walkway to the sprawling manor house. If typical architecture held true, and whaty beneath was bigger than what the eye could see, this ce had to be <i>huge</i>! It was practically a <i>pce</i>!


    Heck, it actually reminded me of Versailles. Same little gardens and little statuettes ced here and there, and nothing to block line of sight for the guards walking the grounds.


    The [Butler], who I learned was named Urist ¨C amon name, apparently ¨C came from a long line of caretakers for local nobility. Their n name was even Mcbuttle.


    Urist Mcbuttle. It was certainly¡­ a name. Whoever came up with it was clearly touched in the head.


    As we arrived at the front door, Urist swept his hand to take it all in. ¡°Wee to Bentley Manor Brewer Roughtuff! I hope your visit is fruitful! May Solen shine upon your path!¡±


    And then we were in. First step down. Lots to go.

 Book 3: Chapter 30: Unexpected Meeting

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 30: Unexpected Meeting</h4>


    The te of cakes and other confectionsy on the table, forgotten.


    Which was how I could tell <i>exactly</i> how much our news had flummoxed Opal.


    We were currently sitting in her study, which looked identical to most other dwarven studies. A pair offortable couches, a beer table, a work desk, a wall of books, a firece with exactly two candlesticks, and an unadorned wall with exactly <i>one</i> painting of some greybeard on it.


    Opal was dressed in dwarven formalcasual, a floor length white gown/hauberk with a leather belt and fancy silver bracers and pauldrons. Her white goatee was well trimmed around her soft features, and offset therge golden bangles she wore on each ear. She was the very picture of a dignified dwarven matron.


    Urist had delivered us to her by a winding route through the mansion, and then bowed out to bring snacks. Wed chatted with Opal about the state of the tavern and Brans salty cooking, then moved into the reason for our visit.


    She sat silently during my description of Lucky Jeans book and treasure before she asked her first question.


    Pete, how confident are you of this?


    Very. It was all quite convincing, but Ill ask Richter ta go to City Hall and ess the public record of tha Herders, just in case.


    Good, thats what I would have told you to do. You realize that <i>even if</i> this treasure hasnt been found yet, it probably wont be as impressive as youre expecting? Since it''s for a random future Chosen, it will most likely be something universally useful, like gold, or jewels.


    What''s wrong with gold or jewels? Golds gold! Bran and I said in unison.


    Opal sighed. You know what I mean. Any seriously enchanted items probably wouldve been found by a routine sweep within Whitewall. Security there is incredibly tight, especially for a ce like the Lyceum. I cant even begin to imagine how youll get ess to it without someone spotting you. Its a <i>terrible</i> hiding ce!


    I shrugged. Thats why we came to <i>you</i>.


    Opal frowned. I dont know what you think <i>Id</i> be able to do. Even my family isnt powerful enough to be residenced in Whitewall. I have <i>ess</i> to it, certainly, and I can take you to the Lyceum, but if you want to book it or spend any serious time staking it out, I cant really help you.


    Ach, ggit. I rubbed the back of my neck. At least wed be able to scout the ce out, and maybe something woulde up.


    Opal hesitated, then began haltingly. Actually I may have someone that can get you ess. Shes a family friend, of sorts. She may even be able to get you unfettered ess to the Lyceum, but I dont know what shed want in return, or if shed do it without knowing whats going on.


    I indicated for Opal to continue, and after a dry gulp, she did.


    I think you met her once in Minnova already, at the Thirsty Goat. Her names Tourmaline, do you remember her?


    The image that popped into my head was of silver curls, a severe expression, and piercing umber eyes. A brilliant and beautiful [Toxicologist] with a sarcastic streak and a cutting sense of humour. It was <i>also</i> one of the names Barck had given me for his handpickedpanions. Since those handpicked souls included Bran, Annie, and Whistlemop, I was predisposed to give her the benefit of the doubt. I knew Tourmalines family was from Crack, that her grandfather was influential, and Prophet Barnes was her Uncle.


    The shoe dropped.


    Prophet <i>BARNES</i>! <i>As influential as the ckbeards, Barnes! </i>


    I jumped to my feet. Opal, thats <i>perfect</i>! Praise be ta Barck and Midna! Do you really think shed see us?


    She, ah, mentioned in passing that shes mildly interested in meeting you again. It seems you left a good impression thest time you met. Things are a bit vtile in the Capital right now though, so it might not


    But she <i>can</i>! I interrupted.


    Opal nodded. If she cant do it, nobody can. Her grandfather is the Duke of the West, His Eminence Joshua Barnes.


    I twitched. Joshua had been the name of the lion-maned fellow whode to the pub with Prophet Barnes that one time. That boisterous jokester had been a <i>Duke</i>!? Ah, shit, it was quite possible, if not likely, that between their status and connection to Prophet Barnes that the Barnes n would guess I was a Chosen Catalyst.


    But treasure, and they technically already knew us anyway. And Barck <i>had </i>vouched for Tourmaline, assuming she was the same person. Id just need to step carefully and read any contracts a hundred times.


    Please can ya ask her to see us, Opal? I said, finally.


    Im really not sure


    I clenched my fingers together and begged like my soul depended on it. Please, please, <i>please</i>?


    Let me think for a moment! Agh! What are you, a bearded child!?


    If thats what it takes! PLEAAASE!?


    Opal pulled back as I got down on my knees and begged harder. After a tick Bran did the same, though with a mischievous glint in his eyes.


    Please, please, please! I whimpered, edging forward.


    Please, please, please! Bran huffed.


    This tale has been uwfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    With a defeated sigh, Opal gave her assent. Fine! But on <i>one condition</i>! You do it here, and and bring Annie with you when youe. Ill have Butler Mcbuttle meet you at ckwalls south gate; Brans pass wont be enough.


    Huh? Why Annie?


    Because because itll be less intimidating if theres moredies around. Opal hedged. And I want to introduce them. Ill askter this week and send word when I hear back.


    Bran and I shared confused nces. Dwarfesses had never struck me as having maidenly modesty, but eh, whatever! The princess wanted moredies at the party, the princess got moredies.


    We made smalltalk for another hour or so, and then I begged leave to go to my next appointment in Redwall.


    I separated with Bran at the gate and made my own way to the inn that Berry had rented out for her entourage. Shed moved from the inn wed stayed at the first night to a more centrally located set of digs near both the Academy and the event grounds shed rented for her stage. She had some kind of sweetheart deal where the city got the use of her fancy traveling stage wagon, and she got to park it on city property.


    The inn was called <i>Wagonwheels</i> and it was a fairly standard gnomish establishment. A lot of wood and ss, with doors that were just a bit too short and a totalck of beer. Metal tea-boxes lined the walls, and they even had a fancy espresso machine.


    I was greeted by Amethyst at the door. The purple haired gnomess gave me a once over and raised an eyebrow. Hello Pete. To what do we owe the pleasure?"


    Ah, I just wanted to talk to Berry. Somethingse up that I really think she needs to know about.


    "Berrys busy right now. Amethyst pointed down, indicating the basement.


    "It''s important. And kind of her ears only." I couldnt outright tell Amethyst to pass on my information, unfortunately. While all the people at the Thirsty Goat knew what I was, and Id kind of spilled the beans on Berry, I didnt actually know how much Berrys people knew.


    Amethyst looked me up and down, then sighed. Her meeting shouldst for another twenty minutes or so, and then shell being up for lunch. She has some professors from Archis Academyingter this evening, so she wont have much time.


    Thats fine. I donnae think it''ll take long.


    Good. Is it about our coboration? Weve been mostly pitching Copperpots gnomish beers. I wouldve thought youd want to start getting Berry to pitch your Liquid Gold again. Her shows are bing quite popr with the professional wrestling crowd. And I think Copperpot has sold more beer to Kinshasas gnomes in the past month than everyone else in the entire history of Crack. Amethyst practically preened with pride at Berrys, and by extension her, sess.


    Eh, aye, I could see that. Its <i>kind of</i> about our cob, but itll be her ears only until she decides what to do with it.


    And they definitely were doing well, if my Gnomish Influencer Quest was any indication.


    <strong>Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 7/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 1,000,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 145,000/1,000,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: Karmic Reversal x 1</i>


    It wasnt ramping up quite as quickly as my Dwarven Influencer quest, and likely wouldnt until we started shipping beer to the more gnomishly popted Eastern Crack. It was still nice to see the number going up with next to no work on my end. Delegation FTW as my daughter always used to say!


    I took a seat by the firece and ordered a coffee. The waitress a redheaded young gnomess in the most stereotypical tavern maid dress Id ever seen seemed shocked that a dwarf was ordering coffee, but brought it over with a smile.


    Berry eventually emerged from the basement with shock of shocks!!! an actual elf! He was the tallest elf Id ever seen, though still smaller than an average human, and he was dressed to the nines in red dress robes and a silken tunic and vest. His crimson hair was done up in a high pony-tail with long bangs that framed his face. The ensemble screamed money and really made his green skin <i>pop</i>. He had a roughly human shape, though he was a bit toonky and sharp-edged to pass for one. And a bit too short, of course. Honestly, he was pretty bang on the money for what Id always assumed a fantasy elf would look like.


    I admit I goggle-eyed as the two of them shared an intimate moment of discussion, the elf bending his head down to her level. Berry actually <i>giggled</i> at something the elf said! Then she saw me and her face immediately turned into a frown, her eyebrows pinching together like she had the start of a headacheing on.


    Well <i>excuuuuse me,</i> princess!!!


    The pair approached my table at the firece, and I stood to greet them.


    Berry. I nodded.


    Pete. She said. Business, I assume? Can it wait? I want to eat lunch first. And Im a little <i>busy</i>.


    She subtly jerked her head in the direction of the elf.


    I grinned, broadly. Crease your eyebrows at <i>me</i>, ya whippersnapper!? Aye, Im not in any particr hurry. Cant let my beloved <i>partner </i>go hungry,


    The elf raised two perfectly sculpted eyebrows and nced at Berry.


    <i>Business</i> Partner! Berry snapped, one eye twitching. She took a deep breath to center herself, then opened her hand to gesture at the elf. Peter, this is Emissary Joseph Stannard. Joseph, this is Brewer Peter Roughtuff. He runs the Brewery that Copperpot is mooching off of.


    Dont let Copperpot hear you say that! I chuckled.


    Joseph gave me a two-fingered salute using his pointer and middle fingers. Its a pleasure to meet you, mate! May Solen shine upon our meeting.


    I fairly rocked back on my heels as he spoke. The elegant creature before me, every speck the distinguished gentle-elf, sounded<i> identical</i> to a surfer bro!


    Id often wondered how elves would sound with my Ability to trantenguages. So far there was a pattern to the ents: dwarves <i>spake </i>like <i>Scots</i>, Sourth Erden gnomes Indian, Crackian gnomes British, those educated at Archis Academy Hints of Irish, Giants Cascadian, South Erden dwarves Nigerian, and rural folk Redneck. It seemed to be based on my own internal biases, which still made me a bit ufortable.


    As for the Elves, who lived primarily in the sunny tropical jungles of North Erdens cape?


    Kiwi. <i>Kiwi</i>! It took every inch of muscle in my body and my high Charisma to not burst intoughter.


    So, I choked, What brings you here, Emissary Stannard? I made sure I was speaking dwarven, no need to let this guy know I could speak Elvish. Probably.


    This lovelydy. The elf held a hand over Berrys shoulder, not <i>quite </i>touching. I happened to hear Berrys music at an event, and I was <i>enchanted</i>.


    I stared agog as Berry actually <i>blushed</i>!


    Joseph is the Ambassador to Crack from the Elven Kingdom of Awemedinad. She said, rubbing under her nose with a finger. Hes also a <i>very </i>influential merchant.


    Ay. My king seeks to improve trade between Awemedinad and Crack. He sent me to make it so. The Ambassador smiled widely.


    Really? My return smile was predatory. How <i>interesting</i>.


    It wasnt part of my schedule, but I could spare some time trying to convince a <i>brah </i>to import some <i>brew</i>.

 Book 3: Chapter 31: Elves!!!

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 31: Elves!!!</h4>


    Berry was ¡®kind¡¯ enough to invite me to eat lunch with her and Joseph, but I was probably going to pay for itter. She introduced me as an acquaintance from Minnova who''d won the Octamillenial contest and apanied her on the way to Kinshasa.


    I was initially worried that the vague dwarven/elven rivalry I¡¯d been feeling in Crack would make Joseph standoffish, but he turned out to be both charming and well spoken. It figured that an <i>ambassador</i> would have a high Charisma stat, and he probably had some Abilities from [Emissary] backing it up.


    He was also very happy to answer questions about his home. In fact, part of his job description was to ¡®teach the dwarven locals about elven life.¡¯


    Yes, elves were nts. Yes, elves had ¡®seeds¡¯. Yes they were nted, and could nt themselves again to heal. Yes, elves could look like dwarves if they ¡®grew¡¯ up in the dwarven enves, he even knew one personally. Yes, they had hair, but it was more correct to call it vines. Berry asked if she could touch it and see, and he dropped some strands for her.


    At this point I just had to know, ¡°Doesn¡¯t this make ya feel a bit ufortable? Us drillin¡¯ you ¡®bout yer biology?¡±


    Berry paused in the act of running her hands through his hair with the sudden realization of what <i>exactly</i> she was doing. She blushed practically scarlet and plumped back onto her seat, giving me an angry glower as she did so.


    Josephughed. ¡°Mate, my King sent me here to foster a rtionship between thergest elven and dwarven kingdoms on Erd. If all it costs to garner goodwill with two up-anding artisans is answering some questions about biology, and letting them feel my hair? That¡¯s an excellent deal. Ignorance breeds distrust and knowledge leads to fortune.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite smart. Was it yer idea or yer King¡¯s?¡±


    Joseph simply gave me a tight-lipped smile, from which I read ¡®not telling¡¯,


    After our food arrived, we were a bit too distracted munching on some pat¨¦den toast to properly talk. The food wasn¡¯t bad, but it certainly wasn¡¯t a Bran special. Super salty too, of course. At least the tea was good; a lovely blend of Gnomish Breakfast and something else.


    We moved onto elven culture after lunch. I was worried that we were taking too much of his time, but Joseph insisted it was fine. Berry kept offhandedlymenting that maybe I had stuff to do, but I happily pointed out that the whole of the Goat was probably just now emerging from unconsciousness into cranky wakefulness.


    ¡°What are elven cities like? I imagine they''re nothing like Kinshasa, but how do theypare to, say, giant viges?¡± I asked, as Joseph regaled a rapt Berry with his favourite things to do Kinshasa.


    Joseph thought for a moment, then answered. ¡°To start, you''ll need to understand that every elven city is unique. Our kingdom is located over most of the southern cape of North Erden, and the local natural resources and microclimates dictate much of how our cities grow.¡±


    My ears perked up at that. ¡°Grow?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we have [Druids] and [Cultivators] that shape the local flora to provide cover and housing space.¡±


    We listened in fascination as he described a fascinating mix of mass-timber skyscrapers intermixed with sculpted trees and nts. Mass timber was one of the primary building materials we used back in British Columbia, and I felt a pang of homesickness. Dwarven architecture used stone almost exclusively, with the asional bit of wood, and it could get a bit nd. Elven cities sounded like works of art inparison.


    Joseph, as it turned out, was from Awemedinand¡¯s capital, a city simply called ¡®Tree¡¯.


    No, not Treehome, or Treetop or anything else, just¡­ <i>Tree</i>.


    Apparently it was a great honour bestowed upon the city that housed the oldest and wisest tree of the great rainforest.


    I asked him about the ¡®wisest¡¯ part, and he admitted that no, elves couldn¡¯t talk to nts, but there were extenuating circumstances around Tree.


    I suspected a world tree or some other garden variety fantasy hooh. He refused to borate, and said we''d just need to visit.


    ¡°Now, I have to ask my most burning question.¡± I blurted out between sips of luke-warm tea. ¡°<i>Do</i> elves all drink wine? I¡¯ve heard it mentioned.¡±


    Joseph sighed in blissful reminiscence. ¡°Ah, yes. The winery makes a scrumptious red that cannot bepared to any other drink in this world. But very few elves can actually afford to drink it.¡±


    ¡°<i>The </i>winery?¡± I chuckled. ¡°You have a clear favourite, then!¡±


    Joseph gave me a confused smile. ¡°No, no, that was correct. <i>The</i> winery. There¡¯s only the one, after all.¡±


    I blinked. Berry blinked. Joseph blinked, smiling innocently.


    ¡°How¡­ is there only one winery?¡± I asked. ¡°Do ya mean tha only winery in Tree?¡±


    ¡°Goodness, no. The only winery in the world!¡± Joseph spread his hands as though presenting a wonderful piece of news and not a horrific revtion.


    I choked on my tea.


    ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± Berry asked. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be other elves that want to make wine!¡±


    Joseph smiled mischievously. ¡°The creator of wine has an ability called [Copyright].¡±


    I twitched. That was the Ability Barck had created. He''d said it¡¯d stifled creativity because dwarves and elves took so long to die. It¡¯d originally been given to anyone who invented something impressive, and would prevent other people from copying their work.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Berry said. ¡°What does having a copyright have to do with anything?¡±


    Joseph exined, ¡°It¡¯s a special Ability. It makes it so that if anyone else tries to make wine, it instantly sours. Oh, certainly <i>lesser</i> wines made with other ingredients exist, but only elven red wine made in Tree by the finest of grapes can be considered true wine. That¡¯s why it¡¯s iparable to any other drink in this world; the creator has perfected it personally over thousands of years¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    We''d See about that! As a soul from another world I was immune, and I¡¯d be able to make wine just fine. When I was done saving beer, I could see about tearing wine from the clutches of elven greed. As a vintner, I couldn¡¯t allow a single winery to control all the wine in the world! That was a monopoly more heinous than the dreaded tyranny of Champagne!


    That stuck up sparkling snob of white wines was the nemesis of all vintners. No matter how good our own Veritas Vinum Vineyards sparkling white wine had been, we were never allowed to call it <i>Champagne</i>. Nooooo, only sparkling white wine made in the <i>Champagne </i>region of <i>France </i>using a <i>specific method</i> was allowed to have that most hallowed of epithets. It was, in fact, thew of thend, even in Canada. The original protections were put in ce in thete 1800s in Europe, but were adopted by over fifty other countries over the next couple centuries. Nearly any ce that <i>could</i> make wine, <i>couldn¡¯t</i> make Champagne.


    Except for California. The right cheating, loophole making, <i>bastards</i>.


    ¡°How is the inventor of wine still alive?¡± I asked, suspicious. ¡°I thought elves only lived a couple¡¯a thousand years. Isn¡¯t wine older than that?¡±


    Joseph smiled mischievously. ¡°Elves can live for a <i>very</i> long time under certain circumstances. The [Vintner] in question was born over 10,000 years ago; he invented wine in his youth.¡±


    I gulped. I could barelyprehendst Aarday, let alone 10,000 years ago. ¡°But still, surely people get bored of the same wine! Sacred Brew is basically monolithic, and even <i>we </i>have dozens of breweries in every city. Does the winery not have different vintages? Different styles??¡±


    Joseph shook his head. ¡°No. You¡¯d need to drink some to understand. I don¡¯t have any with me right now, but I do have a bottle back in my Embassy quarters for special asions.¡±


    ¡°I have an ability that helps prevent oxidation! And lets me turn anythin¡¯ into a bottomless drink! You could share it and not waste a single drop!¡± I wheedled.


    Josephughed. ¡°Oxidation? If you mean spoiling, that sounds like a very handy Ability. I¡¯ll tell you what, Mr. Roughtuff. If your brewery wins the Octamillennial brewing contest, I¡¯ll bring the bottle to share at the celebration!¡±


    ¡°Hah! I¡¯ll take it!¡± I grinned, and Joseph grinned back.


    *Bing*


    <strong>New Quest: What¡¯s all the Fuss About</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>What¡¯s the deal with elven wine? Find out for yourself! </i><i></i>


    <i>Wine Drunk: 0/1 </i>


    <i>Rewards: You Get To Drink Elven Wine</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Well, that was certainly a¡­ reward. The reward was the Quest? Boo! Rip off!


    I¡¯d have to put it down to Barck being Barck. He just really wanted me to try elven wine. To be fair, it had certainly piqued my interest, so I agreed to the Quest.


    Eventually desert was brought out, a strawberry cream cake confection thing with vani cream and custard. Unfortunately, it had gluten, so all I could do was angrily watch while the other two devoured theirs in blissful silence.


    ¡°Do ya do this a lot then? Meet up with local businesspeople and just chat? Let ¡®em get to know you?¡± I asked Joseph as he licked his fork clean.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s been very helpful in both my work as a merchant and an ambassador. Dwarves are very amenable to conversation, especially over a bottle of Sacred Brew.¡±


    ¡°Oh really! How is - ah, the taste?¡±


    Joseph gave me a look, either reading my expression or using an Ability. Whatever he saw, he grimaced and said, ¡°Honestly, not great. I realise that local brewers find that the extra bits and pieces found in Sacred Brew adds to the vour, but I find it distracts from appreciation of the taste. I feel that brewers could greatly improve their product with a little quality control.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Exactly!¡± I thumped the table, and Joseph and Berry jumped in unison. ¡°Erm, sorry. But that¡¯s what I¡¯ve been saying since I ¨C well, since forever! Have you tried any of our brews Joseph?¡±


    Joseph shook his head, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, Brewer Roughtuff, but I¡¯ll make sure to do so now that I¡¯ve met you.¡±


    We chatted for a while longer, but Joseph eventually begged leave to go and do his Ambassadorial duties.


    As he exited stage left, I watched Berry watching him. She had a far-off look in her eyes.


    ¡°He was nice.¡± I said, offhandedly.


    ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    ¡°Smart and charming.¡±


    ¡°Yeppers.¡±


    ¡°Nice hair.¡±


    *sigh* ¡°It felt really good.¡±


    ¡°Tight butt.¡±


    Berry¡¯s smiling facade cracked as she turned a baleful eye on me. Ah, yes, I <i>definitely</i> recognized that look after years of being the only man in a house of two women, one entering menopause and the other past puberty.


    ¡°Yeesss?¡± I drawled.


    ¡°You know godddam well! You¡¯re telling me you couldn''t dip and leave me to my fun!?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I would¡¯ve, but I didn¡¯t have any cookies to dip.¡±


    Berry¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Read the room, you punk-ass bit ¨C !¡±


    ¡°Language, dear!¡±


    ¡°AAAGGGHHH!!!¡±


    ¡°But more seriously, Berry,¡± I interrupted, as her face promised bloody violence, ¡°I couldn¡¯t leave you alone with him until you heard what I came to say.¡±


    Berry¡¯s face grew uncertain. ¡°What? Wait, yeah, why <i>are</i> you here?¡±


    ¡°I came to warn you. I met some people who know <i>what you are</i>, and I think there are more. Copperpot for one. And your new beau Joseph there is another distinct possibility. He certainly seems nice, but¡­ listen to what I have to say first.¡±


    We absconded to her quarters, and I exined what I¡¯d learned. About the other Chosen who¡¯de before, and the marks they¡¯d left on the world. About the likelihood that old, powerful families would be able to ferret her out. And how I suspected Copperpot was one of them. I left out the treasure for now.


    When I was done, she was ashen faced.


    ¡°Oh, Jesus. I¡¯m gonna hurl. Can I trust anyone?? Are they all just trying to mooch Blessings and knowledge?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m not too sure. Your regr Joe-Schmoe is almost guaranteed safe, and that¡¯s most of your staff. I¡¯ve seen Copperpot with his students, and we interacted before he could¡¯ve ever known I was a Chosen. I find it likely that who he is, is genuine, even if his motivations are suspect. I think he deserves an honest chat. I¡¯ll handle him, don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    ¡°And Joseph?¡±


    ¡°The elven Ambassador from an ancient elven kingdom with a knowledge base to draw from that goes back at least 10,000 years? Who suddenly showed up to court you toe to court? I¡¯d be more surprised if he didn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°FUCK!¡±


    ¡°LANGUAGE!¡±


    ¡°AND FUCK YOU, OLD MAN! YOU¡¯RE NOT MY DAD!¡±


    She shoved me out the door and mmed it behind me. Screams of incoherent rage and breaking furniture came muffled through the wood.


    ¡°Well, that could¡¯ve gone better.¡± I muttered, as I wandered out of the inn.

 Book 3: Chapter 32: Delicious in Kinshasa

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 32: Delicious in Kinshasa</h4>


    I arrived back home to find that yes, indeed, everyone had finally dragged themselves out of bed and joined the ranks of the living. There was a heated argument urring in the manor¡¯s living-room over whether or not Richter should just use his [Healer] Abilities to make everyone well.


    ¡°You wanted ta drink all night, you can deal with tha¡¯ consequences!¡± Richter moaned. ¡°I¡¯m not usin¡¯ me healin¡¯ Abilities on a hangover! I may need ¡®em fer real. What if ¡¯dere¡¯s an emergency!¡±


    ¡°What if walking around all bleary eyed is what <i>causes </i>the emergency?¡± Aqua moaned, holding a bag of ice to her temple. ¡°I¡¯m liable to throw up all over a customer, and then we¡¯ll have a fight!¡±


    ¡°Would ya both shaddup.¡± Johnsson wailed from where he¡¯d buried his head in a nket to block out sound and light. ¡°And someone turn off tha¡¯ lights. Why is it so bad this time??¡±


    ¡°I think that Lucky Brew has a higher ABV than regr Sacred Brew.¡± I remarked, cheerily.


    The trio turned baleful eyes on me and Kirk. Kirk had his feet kicked up on the couch and was munching on an apple.


    ¡°And why are you two fine?¡± Aqua asked suspiciously.


    ¡°My Vitality is through the roof,¡± Kirk remarked, ¡°after so many years of running all up and down the continent. There¡¯s no shame in losing to Kirk Manly ¨C Action Adventurer!¡± He struck a heroic pose, then ruined it by choking on his apple.


    ¡°And I just don¡¯t get as drunk as you lot. I have a higher tolerance.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Well if Richter isn¡¯t going to help... One of you two can go ask Bran fer some pick-me-ups, since yer all so fine and dandy,¡± Johnsson muttered.


    I cleared my throat.


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°PLEASE. And none of that nasty mix you call caudle!¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not <i>that </i>nasty!¡±


    The pointed silence told me that everyone disagreed, so I shrugged and made my way to the pub.


    Bran and Darrel were in the middle of a heated argument in the kitchen when I arrived, and I didn¡¯t want to get involved, so I went behind the bar to make something myself. What to make, what to make¡­


    Then, inspiration struck. I ran to the brewroom and grabbed a jar I¡¯d stashed away in the office. A jar full of a dried-out ingredient I¡¯d been waiting to test. A secret ingredient that was <i>perfect</i> for hangovers.


    Bando walked over as I thumped the <i>jar </i>on the <i>bar</i>, ¡°Whatchu makin¡¯ there, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Everyone is out with hangovers, so I¡¯m making something to help them rehydrate and perk back up,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Hangover, huh. Is that why Penelope is lyin¡¯ in yer office in a bloomin¡¯ puddle?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­. yes?¡±


    With that, I pulled several handfuls of dehydrated vegetation out of the jar and put them in a bowl. I carefully examined them for any signs of rot or general ¡¯badness¡¯. Thankfully, it all looked clear!


    ¡°What is it?¡± Bando asked, sitting at the bar and watching me work.


    ¡°It¡¯s my secret weapon! That most delicious and nutritious of flowers, hops!!!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯re they for?¡±


    ¡°Tea. Hops are anti-inmmatory and antioxidant, so they make a nice hangover tea.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s useful.¡±


    Eh, it was kind of true. <i>Any</i> kind of hydration was good for a hangover, and this was my opportunity to finally test the taste of hops on everyone. It would be better than nothing, and getting a dwarf to drink in water was like pulling moustache-hairs.


    I called over one of Darrel¡¯s elementals. The little blue water-drop thing was busy dusting the rafters, and it swooped down to await further instruction. Iid out some teacups and the elemental dutifully filled them with hot water.


    Finally, I added some hop flowers to each cup, and stirred gently until the tea was a light greenish-brown colour.


    The aroma of hops filled the pub, and I breathed it in. Just as I remembered it: citrusy and spicy. The aroma reminded me very much of Saaz. That most noble of aromatic hops was the main ingredient in Ste Artois, but it was also one of the most difficult to grow. The salesman had called it a ¡®weed¡¯ so it either wasn''t truly Saaz, or it just grew differently on Erd.


    I resisted the urge to take a drink myself. I really wanted to imbibe my long-awaited treat with everyone else. I eyed Bando and dutifully poured him a cup as well. I would¡®ve done one for Darrel and Bran too, but they were busy; Bran currently had Darrel in a headlock. At least their knives were away.


    And then it was the moment of truth. I strained the tea of hops, carefully letting each flower drain as I pulled them out. I mixed in some honey, handed Bando his, then walked back to the manor carefully bncing a tray with five teacups. I practically <i>paraded</i> into the living room with a flourish and a ¡°tadah!¡±


    Five groans were my reply, but that was okay.


    ¡°One Peter Roughtuff hopped hangover tea special!¡± I pronounced, passing the cups around. ¡°Drink up, and tell me what you think!¡±


    There were <i>finally</i> some thankful murmurs as everyone drank.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    With trepidation I lifted a trembling cup to my lips. I took a long sniff first, and the scent of vani and¡­ pomelo, perhaps¡­ filled my nostrils. It was an intoxicating nostalgic aroma, and I lost myself in it for a moment.


    Finally, with trepidation, I took a small sip, feeling the burning heat of the tea on my tongue. My first impression was of vani with a hint of tart.


    I took a small sip and a spicy, citrusy taste washed through my mouth. I swished it around my cheeks, appreciating the texture. It wasn¡¯t very sour, which indicated a low acidity, but still quite bitter which indicated some amount of tannins. It really did remind me of Saaz hops, though it was quite a bit spicier than I remembered.


    I swallowed, and it hit my stomach with both a warm and cool sensation. I felt my shoulders rxing from a tension that I hadn¡¯t even realized was there. Yes, this was it. It was exactly as I¡¯d hoped.


    ¡°Ooh, it¡¯s spicy.¡± Richter mumbled.


    ¡°Ahhhh¡­..¡± Aqua sighed with relief.


    Johnsson was too busy gulping to say anything, and Kirk had leaned back on the couch with his eyes closed, smelling the tea.


    *EEEEEEEEEEEE* I screamed like a school-girl in my head. They liked it! They really, really liked it! Everyone Hop on Pete¡¯s Crazy Train!!! Ozzy Osbourne¡¯s got nothing on me; all aboooooard!!!!


    ¡°Not usually a fan of tea.¡± Richter grumbled. ¡°But ¡®dis is nice, what is it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize it all! Is it gnomish? It kind of reminds me of beer for some reason.¡± Aqua had her tongue out as she spoke, and was waving her hand over it.


    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s something I found with Kirk.¡± I pointed at Kirk.


    ¡°Oh, am I allowed to talk about it without being vited now?¡± Kirk glowered and me, and I coughed back a ¡®sorry¡¯.


    ¡°This is from tha human market? What¡¯s it called?¡± Johnsson said,ing up for air. ¡°I love it!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called pineweed,¡± I said, pulling out a few extra flowers and passing them around. ¡°Though on Earth it¡¯s called <i>hops</i>. What does everyone think?


    ¡°It¡¯s definitely a nice tea. Spicy and vourful, and not too sour or bitter.¡± Aqua admired her teacup, took a long drink, then made a sad face and showed me her empty cup.


    ¡°I love it!¡± Johnsson said again, his face flushed from the heat of the tea.


    Richter frowned at the hop flower in his hand. ¡°Hop. Is ¡®dis rted to ¡®de hopback?¡±


    ¡°Got in one!¡± I gave him double finger guns. ¡°Originally, a hopback was filled with hops, allowing the wort to flow through it and take on its aroma while being filtered.¡±


    Aqua groaned. ¡°Always with the beer paraphernalia! Is this a beer flower or something?¡±


    ¡°Aye. A bittering agent, actually, which is why it may remind you of beer.¡±¡±


    Aqua frowned. ¡°Does Annie know? Are you nning to make a beer using it?¡±


    ¡°Ehhhh, yes and no. Not right now, but eventually. I want to see how our new gose turns out with the Goldstone Bittering Blend, and give Annie an opportunity to y with it before going hog-wild.¡±


    ¡°For now, we could probably offer this as tea in the restaurant.¡± Aqua mused. ¡°We have some Pot family tea in right now, for guests of the inn, but I can even see our regr customers ordering this with their meals.¡±


    ¡°Ehhhh, there¡¯s a small problem with that,¡± I hedged.


    ¡°Whaaaaat?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not super cheap, and I think its going to be hard to get more. I was hopin¡¯ that, since Richter just spent a bunch of time with the local alchemists fer his Octamillenial idea, he¡¯d be able ta get some connections in horticulture.¡±


    I gave Richter a pleading look, and he shrugged. ¡°Aye, I could ask around. ¡®Dey got some big farms to ¡®de south ¡®dat might work.¡±


    Johnsson¡¯s stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and we all looked his way.


    ¡°What? All this tea made me hungry,¡± he said.


    ¡°Actually, we should probably go back to the pub and make sure Darrel and Bran haven¡¯t killed each other,¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Aqua raised a blue eyebrow.


    ¡°Aye. They were fightin¡¯ when I left. Dunno over what, but they¡¯ve been like cats and dogs over this salty food business.¡±


    We gathered together and made our way out of the manor to the tavern.


    Thankfully, we were not greeted by a weeping Rosie standing over the corpse of her husband. Instead, we were greeted by a table full of food, with Bando running back and forth to the kitchen. The smell of grease and meat in the pub was overpowering.


    ¡°Are ya finally up yazy lot!¡± Bran shouted, emerging from the kitchen. He had a ck eye and was limping. ¡°About damn time! Richter, gimme a heal.¡±


    ¡°Is Darrel alive?¡± I asked, walking over to examine the food. The main dish was what appeared to be a giant deep-fried loaf of some kind, it was surrounded by garnishing, mostly parsley and dungeon greens. There was also arge bowl of mushrooms and another of gravy.


    ¡°Aye. We think we¡¯ve finally got tha dish we want to use for tha¡¯ contest!¡± Bran beamed as Richter dutifully activated [Regenerate Other], then drew a glowing green Sigil that cleared Bran¡¯s skin of any remaining blemishes. ¡°We were fightin¡¯ to decide who gets to name it!¡±


    ¡°Who won?¡± I asked, sticking a finger into the gravy and sucking on it. It was peppery, with a hint of barista brew to it; a beer gravy of some kind, and not salty at all.


    ¡°Me, of course.¡± Bran snickered. ¡°If you all like tha taste, I¡¯ll give you tha name.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Richter asked, taking a seat. ¡°And thankee, Bran. I¡¯m famished.¡±


    Bran proudly puffed out his chest. ¡°It¡¯s ground beef inside of a house made salted bread that we deep fried. It¡¯s salty enough ta make yer butt pucker, but tha greens and tha sauce take summa the sting off. You¡¯ll want some beer to go with it too.


    ¡°Beef is new. Did we have that on the menu?¡± I mused.


    Bran shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a wee bit expensive, but tha local farms do sell cattle. Fer somethin¡¯ like this? I think we can afford ta make it cost a bit more.¡±


    I could believe him, if it tasted half as delicious as it smelled we¡¯d have to fight the locals off.


    We sat around the table and dutifully waited as Bran sliced the giant loaf open. It steamed and dribbled, releasing a heady waft of herbs and spices. The golden-brown deep-fried crust crackled, but kept its shape as he cut, revealing itself to be thick and ky. I wiped at some drool snaking down my beard, and saw Johnsson do the same. The tension grew palpable as Bran continued to slowly cut the loaf, the tightly packed beef within holding its shape to make circr medallions.


    It looked a lot like beef wellington, which was one of my favourite meals from Earth. I¡¯d never had <i>deep fried</i> beef wellington, but I wasn¡¯t a Philistine. Or an American.


    ¡°Alright, dig ¨C ¡° Bran began, but didn¡¯t manage to finish.


    We were dwarves. We dug.


    There was a madcap rush for the loaf, each of us grabbing as many portions as possible, followed by a scuffle for the gravy.


    Kirk ended up with thergest serving because he was able to reach the middle of the table the easiest. The dungeon greensy mostly forgotten. Bando could eat them.


    I managed to get two medallions, each liberally coated with gravy and mushrooms. As I took my first passionate bite, the vours practically exploded in my mouth. It was a symphonic blend of extra salty with heavy pepper and spice. The crispness of the deep fried crust was a perfect counterpoint to the steaming ground beef.


    I grabbed a mug of our new Goldstone Blend Liquid Gold, and felt tears well up as the crisp, cool, bitter taste of the beer offset the hot saltiness of the meal.


    This. This was why I was here. This was what all the work had been for. And it was WORTH IT!


    I came up for air with a gasp, and held my mug up. ¡°Fer Bran and Darrel! Cheers!¡±


    I was echoed by the throng. ¡°CHEERS!!!¡±


    I turned to Bran. ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve won us over; this is incredible. What are you callin¡¯ it?¡±


    He struck a pose. ¡°We¡¯re callin¡¯ it Bran¡¯s Big¡¯ol Salty Beef!¡±


    I spluttered, choking on Bran¡¯s Big¡¯ ol thick and crusty Salty Beef.

 Book 3: Chapter 33: A Worthy Brew

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 33: A Worthy Brew</h4>


    I spent a day ying with hops, varying the amounts in the tea and testing it with other spices, then went back to the market to meet with Ganji.


    To my absolute horror, he wasn¡¯t there.


    He¡¯d promised a week! The filthy liar!


    Thankfully, a nearby merchant notified me that he¡¯d likely be back at the start of the next month. I only wept a little.


    The rest of the week rolled by without any real progress. The gose quietly fermented, Bran and Darrel loudly <i>fomented</i>, and the tavern continued to get busier and busier. The pub was packed every night, and Liquid Gold continued to be the most popr seller. A significant number of customers got Barista Brew <i>to go</i>, but it wasn¡¯t as popr at the tables. The inn-side of things was also now in full swing, as the city continued to bust at the seams. From talking to other local hoteliers, it sounded like every inn in the city waspletely booked.


    And wouldn¡¯t you know it, some industrious locals had started renting out their rooms for the low, low, price of an arm and a beard.


    See! Air-BnBs! It was inevitable!!!


    Our inn¡¯s residents ran the gamut of red-haired easterners, gnomes from Minnova, local vigers, wealthy refugees, and even a few dark-skinned southerners. The stories that were told in the tavern after closing, when the inn customers got the ce to themselves, ranged from fascinating to terrifying. Tales of enormous ck-skinned tentacled abominations from Deep Crack tearing through viges, of gleaming members of the Highwatch keeping back roving bands of Ashwolves, and of the sweltering red peaks of the south where dwarves made their homes in the mountaintops instead of below the erd.


    Of course, life outside of the inn continued apace as well.


    The ¡®revolution¡¯ was steadfastly marching on, in some cases quite literally. We had a demonstration walk past the tavern that had to have been at least several thousand dwarves and gnomes. They chanted slogans and carried signs calling for change, immediate action by the king and the council, elections, and decrying the cruelty of nobles.


    Rosie and Balin had scoffed, but I¡­ was really beginning to agree. My time in Western Crack had been marred by meeting a few nobles here and there, and they¡¯d all reminded me of Louis ckbeard in one fashion or another. Pompous, arrogant, and self-serving were the only words I could¡¯ve used to describe them. Plus, dwarven society seemed <i>built</i> for democracy; they had an incredibly well-functioning bureaucracy and a strong education system. And every dwarf I¡¯d ever met strongly believed in meritocracy, even if they tended to default to gerontocracy.


    At the end of the week, it was finally time. We invited the entire crew, including Malt, Copperpot, and Whistlemop toe to the manor house for the party. They nearly all came, with Berry begging off to prepare for a concert the next day.


    Bran and Darrel put together a feast of ¨C *choke* ¨C Bran¡¯s Big ol¡¯ Beefloafs, and we racked the first goses in the world straight into some serving jugs. While we had several different carboys, there were really only two different brews ¨C a sour gose, and a not-sour gose. The jugs were ced on disy in the dining hall while we had a small get-together first.


    While I was chatting with Malt about the exact science behind making sours, I felt an insistent hand on my elbow, and looked down to see a stormy face. It was Whistlemop, for once not in his fancy rainbow get-up. He was wearing something a bit more subdued and in the Kinshasan noble fashion ¨C a simple brown suit with armored ents and an ornamental gorget instead of a tie.


    ¡°Oh hey, Whistlemop, ¡®aven¡¯t seen you around much recently. Where¡¯ve you been?¡±


    ¡°I LIVE here!¡± The foppish little mop shrilled.


    ¡°I mean, I never <i>see</i> you!¡±


    ¡°Oh, falling as low as <i>short </i>jokes now are we!?¡±


    ¡°No, I mean I literally never see you! What godsawful hour of Lunara¡¯s ck Lace Nighty do ya leave!? I know tha Whistlemug business is going well, given ¡®ow I see yer grinnin¡¯ ssy face everywhere, even in me nightmares.¡±


    ¡°I have lots to do.¡± Whistlemop muttered. ¡°And I have to keep going to the transit station to send messages to the Minnova store via [Herald] before they open. Then I need to run my wagon at the Grand Market.¡±


    I ck-jawed. ¡°Yer <i>still</i> micromanaging!? I told ya to get someone qualified to do all that before we left!¡±


    Whistlemop glowered back. ¡°I just didn¡¯t have the time! Finding someone and getting them trained takes time!¡±


    ¡°Argh! That¡¯s my store too!¡±


    ¡°Aaron¡¯s Arse it is! We both know you only really care about the beer business!¡±


    ¡°Boys!¡± A hand thumped onto my shoulder, and another onto Whistlemop¡¯s. We looked back to see Annie¡¯s pained smile,plete with a throbbing forehead vein. ¡°Do you need to take this outside? This is an important moment. I could ask Kirk to give you the toss?¡±


    ¡°Sorry Annie.¡± I muttered.


    ¡°*Ahem*¡± Whistlemop shuffled from foot to foot and nodded.


    Whistlemop and I gave each other res that promised, ¡®business talkter¡¯, then split ways.


    At this point, the only person absent from the proceedings was Johnsson. He¡¯d told Annie not to wait up, and that he had a surprise for us. We still waited until we couldn¡¯t wait anymore, but eventually curiosity took over.


    It was time to pour! I was far past nervous at this point; I had hops, a good crew, and forward momentum. The only thing that stood in my way was thatst dreaded obstacle, the white wall that stood between my happiness and the future of beer.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been uwfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I red, and the goat red back.


    *Baaah* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Give me my due, varlet!¡±


    Penelope pounded the ground next to her special goat-shaped beer dish and bleated again.


    ¡°Oooh, she¡¯s angry.¡± Aqua giggled. ¡°You¡¯d better give her what she wants soon, loverboy.¡±


    ¡°Ach, don¡¯t start that again. And besides, what if *I* want tha first drink some time.¡± I grumbled. ¡°And isn¡¯t she supposed to be on a low beer diet?¡±


    ¡°Pah,¡± Richter snorted. ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s been on a diet at <i>all</i>. I¡¯ve been checking and she¡¯s gainin¡¯ weight.¡±


    *Beeeeeeheee* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°My <i>die</i>t will begin with <i>death</i>!¡± She lowered her horn and began edging closer, menacingly.


    I threw up my hands and threw down the towel. ¡°Agh, FINE!¡¯


    With that I poured the sour gose into her bowl and she dipped her muzzle in to drink greedily.


    While she drank, we all backed subconsciously away, and Whistlemop actually dove behind a table. Copperpotughed, finding the entire thing hrious, and I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t anything magical about this beer, you lot. It''s just yogourt and malt!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not taking any chances!¡± Whistlemop hollered from behind his makeshift fortress. ¡°That goat is a <i>menace!</i>¡±


    I wanted to angrily deny, but eh. He was kinda right. ¡°Who¡¯s my lovable menace,¡± I cooed. ¡°How¡¯s the beer, princess?¡±


    In answer, Penelope raised her snout and gave a happy bleat. She finished off the rest of the bowl, then picked it up in her teeth and walked over to whack Annie in the shins with it.


    ¡°She likes it!¡± Annie proimed. ¡°The sour gose is in!¡±


    The non-sour gose was next, and it was Annie¡¯s turn to pour. She took a jug and poured it into Penelope¡¯s bowl.


    Penelope sniffed it, took a few licks, then scoffed and pushed the bowl away.


    Annie¡¯s face fell. ¡°Ach. She doesn¡¯t like it.¡±


    The collective let out a sigh, except Whistlemop, who continued to give Penelope the stink-eye.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Copperpot whispered, as Annie pushed the bowl back, hoping the goat would change her mind. She did not, and even turned around to give the bowl a hind-boot.


    ¡°It means we throw it away.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°On the say so of an <i>animal</i>? I truly don¡¯t understand this tradition. What if you¡¯re throwing away a fortune on the say-so of an animal that <i>literally</i> likes the taste of socks.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s true that spoiled goats with white coats taste-testing beer is no basis for a system of business, but what can you do? Penelope¡¯s an institution nearly as old as Minnova.¡±


    Copperpot raised an eyebrow, ¡°Since when did <i>you </i>care about tradition?¡±


    ¡°Since that bloody prima donna is currently at four-and-oh for spotting extremely lucrative brews.¡±


    ¡°Ah. So superstition, not tradition. That makes <i>much</i> more sense.¡±


    ¡°I prefer to think that every Penelope gets an Ability to tell good beer from bad.¡±


    Copperpot snorted. ¡°She¡¯d be the first animal with an Ability, then. Good for her.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, she¡¯s a capital captain of caprids.¡±


    ¡°How alliterative.¡±


    ¡°Mm-hm. Ah, leave some time forter, I need to talk to you about something.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡±


    Annie poured the rest of the sour gose into mugs, then passed them around. ¡°Alright everyone! The moment of truth! Let¡¯s see if Pete was right about this stuff!¡±


    ¡°CHEERS!¡±


    Our mugs sloshed over and then there was only the sound of gulping.


    I paused as I brought the Whistlemug to my lips, taking in the scent of the beer. Thankfully it didn¡¯t have any of the aromas I associated with a bad sour, with faint notes of sour-cream and mushrooms. With my first sip, the gose slid down my throat just like I remembered it, a creamy mouthfeel mixed with the sharp sting of salt. The briney aftertaste definitely mixed well with the new Goldstone Bitters, which were much more in line with what I was used to back on Earth. It was still quite a bit stronger than I liked, and the erdroot malt still felt filmy, but this was <i>finally</i> worthy of being called beer!


    A tear sprang to my eye as I took another slow sip, swishing the beer in my mouth and enjoying the <i>everything </i>of it. Godsdamn, this was turning out to be the best week of my new life.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 4/16</i>


    <i>*Bing!*</i>


    <strong>Hidden Quest Complete: A Worthy Brew</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Finally! A beer even YOU consider decent!</i>


    <i>Gained: [Rapid Aging]</i>


    ¡°Yes!¡± Annie gasped, as she finished drinking. ¡°This is definitely it! This could win it!¡±


    There were simr gasps around the room as the others came up for air. One of them was mine at the unexpected Hidden Questpletion.


    ¡°Win it!?¡± An unexpected voice came from below, and we all looked down to see Copperpot wrestling with Penelope for the dregs inside the discarded jug. ¡°Who cares!? This¡¯ll make us all <i>rich! </i>Richer!!! How does it taste with wheat?? You said it uses yogourt Pete? I need to know more!! The sourness, the bitterness, the taste!¡±


    ¡°That good?¡± I asked, looking over at Whistlemop.


    ¡°It¡¯s better than <i>tea!</i>¡± Whistlemop gabbled.


    ¡°You shut your dirty mouth!¡± Copperpot snapped,ing back to erd. ¡°It¡¯s good, but not <i>that </i>good!¡±


    ¡°Do gnomes get to vote?¡± I asked, watching the two bicker back and forth.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to <i>crush</i> this.¡± Aqua whispered, nodding.


    Our celebration was short lived, as there was a knocking at the door.


    ¡°Must be Johnsson.¡± Richter said, walking to the door. ¡°I¡¯ll let ¡®im in. He¡¯ll be sad he missed ¡®de moment.¡±


    Richter swung the door open, but instead of Johnsson standing at the manor door, there was a bloody <i>giant</i> of a dwarf. He was half naked, with an enormously bushy red beard and curly hair, and he wore a ming red dragon luchador mask.


    Richter gaped, Aqua fainted, and I shrieked, ¡°DWARF DRACONIS!?!¡±


    Johnsson peeked his head through the door from behind the professional luchadorf. ¡°¡®Oy, you lot. Surprise!¡±

 Late Chapter

    <h4>Late Chapter</h4>


    Brothers of the mine rejoice!


    Swing, swing, swing with me


    Raise your pick and raise your voice!


    Sing, sing, sing with me


    Down and down into the deep


    Who knows what we''ll find beneath?


    Diamonds, rubies, gold and more


    Hidden in the mountain store


    Born underground, suckled from a teat of stone


    Raised in the dark, the safety of our mountain home


    Skin made of iron, steel in our bones


    To dig and dig makes us free


    Come on brothers sing with me!


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole


    The sunlight will not reach this low


    Deep, deep in the mine


    Never seen the blue moon glow


    Dwarves won''t fly so high


    Fill a ss and down some mead!


    Stuff your bellies at the feast!


    Stumble home and fall asleep


    Dreaming in our mountain keep


    Born underground, grown inside a rocky womb


    The Earth is our cradle, the mountain shall be our tomb


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Face us on the battlefield, you will meet your doom


    We do not fear what lies beneath


    We can never dig too deep


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole


    Born underground, suckled from a teat of stone


    Raised in the dark, the safety of our mountain home


    Skin made of iron, steel in our bones


    To dig and dig makes us free


    Come on brothers sing with me!


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole


    I am a dwarf and I''m digging a hole


    Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole

 Book 3: Chapter 34: What Gose Around...

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 34: What Gose Around...</h4>


    Copperpot and I decided to retire for our little chat as soon as the wrestling demonstration started. As much as I really, really, wanted to try doing an arm-bar on my current favourite luchadorf, I did have responsibilities to take care of first.


    We left Richter and Johnsson attempting to tag-team the charismatic red-headed dynamo while Kirk filled in for a corner post.


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to stay?¡± Copperpot said, as we made our way out. ¡°You seemed quite taken with that Draconic fellow.¡±


    ¡°Draconic <i>fellow</i>?¡± I replied, bemused. ¡°You don¡¯t follow wrestlin¡¯, do ya. That was <i>Dwarf Draconis</i>, one of tha most famous wrestlers in Minnova. And he <i>likes our beer</i>!¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly impressive, but he¡¯s no Raspberry Syrup!¡±


    I rolled my eyes at his obvious jibe. ¡°Berry¡¯s well known, but she still isn¡¯t <i>professional-wrestler</i> famous.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well. I¡¯m more of a fan of the golem arena myself. How <i>did </i>he end up at the party tonight? You lot seemed just as surprised as me!¡±


    I grinned. ¡°We <i>were</i> surprised. It was all Johnsson. I took him aside and he said that he used some of the ¡®make friends and influence people¡¯ budget we gave him to buy some backstage wrestling tickets. He brought all the wrestlers kegs of Barista Brew, and Draconis now swears by it before every match.¡±


    Copperpotughed. ¡°Better Barista Brew than <i>Assster</i>!¡±


    ¡°Heh, tha new and improved Dwarf Draconis! He shoots fire from both ends!¡±


    We both guffawed at the image, though mine was tinged with strain at the thought of what wasing. This was going to be a <i>difficult </i>conversation.


    As we shut ourselves in the study, I pulled a bottle out of my pocket and showed it to Copperpot.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Some of the non-sour gose.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± He chuckled. ¡°I knew it! You¡¯d never let a goat decide your fate!¡±


    ¡°Eh, yes and no. We¡¯re only going to sell the other one, but I <i>am</i> curious.¡± I took a swig, and nearly spat it out. It tasted pretty much exactly as I¡¯d expected ¨C like overly salty beer. It was acrid and tingly, had the consistency of sea water, and left me desperate for something to take the aftertaste away.


    Copperpot watched as I spat the small sip out. ¡°That bad?¡±


    I nodded, pulling a keg of Barista Brew from its ce of honor on the lintel. ¡°Seems our trust in the little Princess isn''t misced.¡±


    Copperpot nabbed the fluffiest chair in the room and pulled it up in front of the fire while I grabbed a simple stool; I wanted to be on top of my game tonight.


    ¡°Well Pete,¡± Copperpot mused, as I poured the drinks. ¡°Things are certainly moving. We released Pink Brew to great acim the other week, and Berry¡¯s been having a lot of fun with the costuming for her advertising. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen so much pink chiffon since my daughter was twenty! Ha ha!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile at the mental image of my own little Sammy dressed up like a ballerina and screeching, ¡®LOOK AT ME, DADDY!¡¯


    ¡°Aye, children are a blessin¡¯. Here.¡± I passed over his ss and he took it with thanks, taking a sip with a sigh of pleasure.


    ¡°We almost sold out of our first run of Pink Brew,¡± he continued. ¡°I finagled the ratios a bit, and we found that leaving it to ferment for a few extra days gives a better vour.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± At least <i>someone</i> liked the umqombothi. I was going to wait a couple months then try making some Liquid Gold or even gose with sorghum extract and see how it tasted. Right now the general mood around the brewery was pretty anti-sorghum, which¡­ was quite simr to Earthe to think of it. I''d need to explore rice as an avenue too. ¡°How¡¯s the cleanup after each brew?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s horrid. But Pete,¡± Copperpot leaned in, ¡°that gose is going to be an even bigger hit, especially if we splice it with some wheat malt. It was <i>delicious</i>.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. He teally was bing a craft brewer through and through. I felt a pang of pride. ¡°You really think it¡¯ll be that popr? We hope so, obviously¡­¡±


    ¡°The salt really made it; especially in a city like Kinshasa. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve noticed, but <i>everything</i> is salty in this bloody city.¡±


    I pursed my lips. ¡°We had an <i>inkling</i>, yes. It isn¡¯t just the salt though. This brew uses our new Goldstone Bitters, and that has to be ying a part in it.¡±


    Copperpot¡¯s eyes glittered. ¡°As a subsidiary of the Thirsty Goat, will we be getting ess to the new bittering agent?¡±


    I waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Obviously.¡±


    Copperpot leaned back into his chair and took a sip of beer. ¡°The theme for the contest is to ¡®Brew the most valuable brew¡¯, correct? You¡¯re going for a patriotism and ¡®expensive spice¡¯ route, I¡¯m guessing? That may work, and the drink is tasty enough that some people will vote for you no matter what.¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Aye, that¡¯s going to be tha biggest issue. This current format really, <i>really</i>, benefits the home team. There¡¯s no real pressure to vote fer tha theme over just what tastes best, or is tha most popr. Riverside Brewery is almost guaranteed ta win every round they¡¯re in, and we aren¡¯t looking forward toin¡¯ up against ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°Well, hopefully that¡¯ll be in the finals!¡±


    I knocked on wood and glowered at him. ¡°We don¡¯t usenguage like that in the Thirsty Goat anymore.¡±


    Copperpot gave me a <i>look</i>, then rolled his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me <i>you¡¯ve</i> fallen for that old superstitious nonsense.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any urrences.


    ¡°How superstitious it is or isn¡¯t is immaterial when tha Gods are always watchin¡¯ and like to test us.¡± I quoted.


    ¡°Bah. They¡¯re not always ¨C¡± Copperpot started, then stopped. He stared at me and seemed lost in thought for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Well, maybe there¡¯s some truth to it. I still think it¡¯s a load of goat manure, though.¡±


    Uh huh. I settled onto my stool and aimed for nonchnt, letting [Friend:Gnomes] activate. I felt my voicee out just a little smoother and calmer than usual.


    ¡°Copperpot, I wanted to talk to you because I¡¯ve been doing a little history reading. Ourpetitor for this round is the Herder n, and the name Lucky Jean Herder hase up a couple times. Have you ever heard of him? Apparently he was friends with your ancestor..¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve heard of him. He¡¯s quite famous in my n, actually. Family history is a required course for all Pots. We have extensive records that are constantly being upkept. I should show you around the family library here in Kinshasa sometimes, it¡¯s quite the ce!¡±


    That tore it. He almost <i>definitely</i> knew I was a Catalyst, and probably had information retaining to the Great Game too.


    Time to set the trap. ¡°What do the Pots say about him? And other gnomes for that matter. I¡¯ve only heard about him from the dwarven perspective.¡±


    Copperpot dropped into the cadence of the university professor he was. ¡°Lucky Jean Herder was not only important to gnomes, as the first pioneer of the East, but to the Pots in particr. You¡¯re correct that he was friends with our family¡¯s founder, Teapot. This was just a few millennia after Crack had been settled, and gnomes were still second ss citizens. The gnomish oligarchies had joined the dwarven kingdoms a scant few centuries earlier, and the Ordinances were still quite dwarf specific. When thews all say ¡®dwarves¡¯ it makes it difficult to fight for your rights as a ¡®gnome¡¯.¡±


    I leaned forward, listening seriously. This was actually genuinely interesting. I held up a hand, and Copperpot nodded to me. ¡°Yes, Student Roughtuff?¡±


    ¡°Ahem, Engineering Professor Copperpot, why did the gnomes join the dwarven kingdoms in the first ce?¡±


    ¡°The answer to that isplicated, and worthy of its own lesson. The two major gnomish countries of the day were Gnomehome in the Northern Mountains and Dujin in South Erden. Dujin still exists after a fashion, though it has more recently split into many city-states. Most of the gnomes living in Crack are descended Gnomehomian refugees.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Suffice it to say that Gnomehome disintegrated over abination of outside pressures, constant wars with the northern dwarven Kingdoms over mining rights, and a devastating natural disaster. You can ask Richter to add it to your history lessons. Those who came to Crack sought a ce that was wild and untamed, without the poption and political pressure¡±


    I pulled out one of my notebooks and started writing. Copperpot nodded appreciatively, and continued the impromptu history lesson. It wasn¡¯t why I¡¯d called him here, but I wasn¡¯t going to turn down private lessons from one of the most celebrated teachers in Minnova!


    ¡°Originally, the Pots were simple marketeers in Kinshasa with the family epithet of ¡®Hawker¡¯. They sold ingredients imported from Dujin with the help of a Specialised Southerner. At the time, tea was only reallymon in Dujin. Teapot, though he was named Woodhawker at the time, experimented with several different blends until he struck upon our first major tea. Do you know what it was, student Roughtuff?¡±


    I pantomimed seriously thinking, and answered, ¡°Gnomish Breakfast, sir?¡±


    ¡°Yes, correct. The Hawkers started selling cups of Gnomish Breakfast at their stall and it became massively popr. Teapot changed his name, thus starting the ¡®Pot¡¯ ancestral line, and opened the first tea shop in Kinshasa. He invented Darjeeling and several other popr blends during the next few decades. It was around then that he met Lucky Jean when the explorer stumbled across his shop while looking for coffee. He was one of the few dwarves who drank it at the time, you see. The two argued and came to blows the first time they met, but they eventually became good friends, though they still bickered. They could often be heard shouting at each other long into the night.¡± Copperpot snickered at the thought.


    ¡°Because they came from the rival countries of Britain and France. Is that right, Professor?¡± I said nonchntly, continuing to write in my notebook.


    ¡°Yes, correct. Now, when Lucky Jean first discovered Greentree dungeon, he brought back samples of several different dungeon nts. He gave some to Teapot, who made the now world famous Lord Grey using them. Lord Grey was the tea that catapulted the Pot family into prominence as it sold extremely well within Dujin and the humannds¡­.¡±


    He trailed off, realizing what he¡¯d said.


    We stared at each other in silence for a solid minute. Copperpot was <i>smart</i>. He knew, he knew I knew, he knew I knew he knew. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t bother to insult my intelligence or damage our rtionship further with avoidance and lies.


    ¡°So you know,¡± he said, tly.


    ¡°Yes. I know. The question is, how long have <i>you </i>known? Was it from when we first met? Was any of this,¡± I snapped my notebook shut and gestured between us, ¡°real?¡±


    Copperpot sighed and sunk down in his chair, therge dwarven seat practically enveloping him. ¡°No. I didn¡¯t even suspect anything until muchter. It was actually Berry that gave it all away; she¡¯s not exactly subtle.¡±


    ¡°ggit!¡± I held my face in my hands. ¡°I was worried about that.¡±


    ¡°Yes. If there are any other powerful families with Chosen ancestors or who know of the Chosen Catalysts, they¡¯re likely already watching her. It¡¯s one of the reasons I¡¯ve been doing my best to keep you at arms length with her. Is it the Gods¡¯ Great Game, by the way? I was never quite certain.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I growled. ¡°Some <i>GAME</i>.¡±


    ¡°As an [Engineer] and scientist, I can appreciate the purpose,¡± Copperpot said wryly. ¡°Even if I dislike the need. But Peter, I assure you that my decision to support your gnomish brewing idea and use Boomdust had <i>nothing</i> to do with it. I¡¯d just assumed you were a smart, if odd, dwarf.¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks.¡± I rolled my eyes, and Copperpot chuckled.


    ¡°Trust me, in engineering, odd is <i>normal</i>. But, It <i>did</i> influence the decision to send me along to Kinshasa; the board wanted me to keep an eye on you. And let me tell you, all that rigamarole in Minnova would''ve been much simplier if thepany had realized you were a Chosen at the time.¡±


    We each drank our beers in silence for a while, Copperpot draining his in several gulps before pouring himself a fresh pint. Eventually, I was the one that spoke first. ¡°So, what now?¡±


    Copperpot hesitated. ¡°Ah, friends?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m ready to jump right back to something as close as friends. You should¡¯ve <i>told</i> me you knew. You deliberately kept it from me because, from what I can tell, you wanted to profit off of our friendship without me realizing. As a businessman, I can ept that, but after everything¡­ I¡¯d kind of thought we were more.¡±


    ¡°... Does Whistlemop know?¡±


    I shook my head, and Copperpot winced. ¡°I¡¯d guessed that he already knew. I was miffed that you¡¯d told him but not me, actually.¡±


    ¡°No. Our rtionship is fully built on mutual corporate interest an¡¯ dirty secrets. I don¡¯t think either of us considers tha other a ¡®friend¡¯, our history isn¡¯t reallypatible with that. We certainly never fought for our lives together ¨C <i>multiple times</i>.¡±


    ¡°Then why ¨C ¡°


    ¡°The only reason I hadn¡¯t told you yet was because I wasn''t sure if you''d put the Pot Corporation first, and didn¡¯t want to put you in that position. Seems I was right. And speaking of telling, <i>you¡¯re</i> going to need to tell Berry about this. Tomorrow. You owe it to her, and I think she¡¯s going to be really, <i>really</i>, hurt.¡±


    Copperpot actually looked distraught, and this time it was my turn to sigh.


    ¡°But I <i>am </i>willing to give you a second chance. Time heals all wounds, and apparently I have a lot of it,¡± I finished.


    ¡°So¡­ business partners?¡±


    I held out a hand for a gnomish handshake. ¡°Business partners.¡±


    We shook hands, then sat in silence watching the fire as the muffled sounds of screaming and suplexes echoed through the manor.

 Book 3: Chapter 35: Odd Couples

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 35: Odd Couples</h4>


    Copperpot and I eventually made our way back to the party. We were down, but not out, and getting to spend time with a legend would definitely help with our mood.


    We found Balin and Annie tag-teaming Dwarf Draconis, with Johnsson and Richter apparently out for the count. The two of them moved in perfect sync, Balin darting in while the Annie grabbed Draconis¡¯s attention. Draconisshed out at Balin with a snap kick, then did a backflip that put Annie and Balin on the same side. The two immediately joined up to cover each other¡¯s blind spots, and put up a united front.


    ¡°They have good teamwork.¡± Copperpot said.


    I nodded. ¡°Aye. They practice together in the mornin¡¯; they both lost their families to monster attacks and they want to be ready in case somethin¡¯ ever happens again.¡±


    Balin and Annie began circling in different directions, sandwiching Draconis between them. The dwarf, who was still wearing his trademark red lizard leather pants and belt, struck a pose and breathed a small spout of fire into the air. We all cheered at the theatrical taunt. It worked too, as Balin darted in and grabbed at the wrestler¡¯s feet. As Draconis went to bring an elbow down on Balin¡¯s head, Annie dashed in with ariat and connected with his neck, bringing him and Balin down to the ground.


    The trio fell into a tangled pile and everyone in the room rose to their feet, whooping. Our shouts turned to groans as Draconis somehow managed to put Annie into an armbar, with Balin locked between his knees.


    ¡°Arghhh! Give! Give!¡± Annie shouted. Balin seemed a bit <i>choked up</i>, and was just iling an arm instead, his face turning blue.


    ¡°Ach! It was a good fight, eh!¡± Draconis said, jumping to his feet. ¡®Yer a pair of naturals!¡±


    ¡°Not me.¡± Annie whoofed. ¡°But Balin is an Adventurer.¡±


    ¡°Oh, are ye?¡± Draconis said, given Balin another look. ¡°Aye, I can see it. Are ya registered ta enter Deepcore yet?¡±


    Balin answered in between heaving gasps for air. ¡°Aye, just passed tha¡¯ test. We did a few forays inta Whitewall, but didn¡¯t run into much other than some sandfleas.¡±


    Draconis gave him an enormous p on the back, and to his credit, Balin didn¡¯t fall over.


    The rest of the evening pretty much went like that. Draconis was a great guy, affable,rger than life,rger than the average dwarf, and he <i>loved</i> our beer. We actually had to run screaming for Darrel¡¯s elemental toe douse a fire Draconis lit when he got a taste of the gose. He was not only ready and willing to pitch our beer for the round, he offered to do it for the <i>entirepetition</i>. Balin wasn¡¯t the only one to get back-pped that night, as Johnsson had welts by the time we were done pounding <i>his</i> backside!


    During a lull in the evening entertainment, I took the opportunity to read my new Ability.


    <strong>[Rapid Aging]</strong> -<i> Making good beer takes time, and this lets you do it faster. While focusing on a non-magical food or drink, you can cause its time to pass faster at a rate of your choosing. You may cause it to experience between one day and one year of time. This ability cannot affect sentient beings.</i>


    <i>This ability can be used once an hour.</i>


    It was nothing <i>really</i> exciting; a time-saver more than anything. I strongly suspected old human Pete would¡¯ve been all ¡®sweet, I can make pickles in seconds¡¯, but dwarf Pete was a bit less concerned about time; I had lots of it. Pity about the non-sentient beings tag; It was <i>easy </i>to picture blood as a drink, and that would be a kick-ass Ability for fighting monsters.


    At least time wouldn¡¯t be an issue for any futurepetition brews. I could also speed ourgers along, but I kind of wanted to let them ferment normally the first time as a control.


    We arranged a ride home for Draconiste in the morning via a sleepy Bando, then all went to bed.


    ¡ª


    Big things were happening in the Thirsty Goat, and I wasn¡¯t just talking about the enormous pile of goat dung Penelope had left in my boots sometime during the night.


    Our brewing had gone well this extremelyte-morning, with several full tanks of salty beer now fermenting happily away. We were actually nearing full capacity on beer, and I wasn¡¯t sure what we¡¯d do if we maxed out. Perhaps I¡¯d be using [Rapid Aging] sooner than I¡¯d thought!


    In the afternoon I finally took the time to meet with Whistlemop and make things up to him. I let him vent for a while, promised him more of my time, and then changed the subject to food. <i>That</i> made us both hungry, so we set up in the raised section of the pub and got to work. I really had been, well, not avoiding, but not making him a prioritytely. It turned out that among the many tasks I hadn¡¯t been doing, the paperwork for the business I part-owned with him was one of them.


    ¡°And then sign this one.¡± Whistlemop passed me another sheet.


    ¡°Gods, this is worse than working with the <i>auditor</i>.¡± I moaned. ¡°You hear that? You¡¯re worse than <i>Silverpen the Auditor</i>!¡±


    ¡°And you <i>deserve </i>it, now <i>sign it</i>.¡±


    ¡°I <i>said</i> I was sorry! And not without reading it first!!!¡± I took the page and began scanning it. It was a fairly standard bit of paperwork to release additional gold from our corporate funds into the ssmaking business. The trick was to find the devil in the details.


    ¡°You great gormless goat! You think we have <i>time</i> for you to be reading every Yearn-be-damned word! Just sign it!¡± Whistlemop wrung his moustache, pulling it down his chin until it sproinged back up.


    ¡°Bah! You¡¯ve got <i>goat pucky</i> fer <i>brains</i> if ya think I¡¯m singin¡¯ anything <i>you </i>hand me without readin¡¯ it first!¡±


    ¡°Well aren¡¯t they the happy couple.¡± A voice interrupted from the side, and we both turned to re at Annie, who was sitting with Balin at a table. They were cozying up together over some beer and biscuits. Team Brightstar was going to make a serious push into Whitehall in Deepcore tomorrow, so they were all taking a day of downtime to spend with friends and family.


    ¡°Ach, I¡¯m just happy that Pete¡¯s found someone to love other than Penelope!¡± Balin remarked,bing his beard in mock appreciation.


    If youe across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°But Balin!¡± Annie swooned. ¡°How will we ever break the news to her?? She¡¯ll be heart broken!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll need ta find her a billy-prince; nothin¡¯ else can match the sheer manliness of a Roughtuff!¡± Balin flexed an arm and Annie wrapped a hand around it, making appreciative noises.


    I grumbled and ignored the sideshow, though Whistlemop found it hrious.


    ¡°Fine.¡± I scribbled my signature and motioned for more. ¡°Let¡¯s move on.¡±


    Whistlemop took the next page and passed it to me. While he waited for me to read, his [Butler] Bimbleberry brought him some tea from next door. He thanked her and winked at her. She winked back.


    <i>That</i> was new.


    Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Annie and Balin had moved on to doing that heavy beard brushing thing they always did. Over by the bar Darrel and Rosie were stooped together, talking about something in quiet intimate tones. She said something and he chuckled and smacked her on the shoulder.


    Gods. It felt like back when I was picking my daughter up at high-school. A bunch of lovestruck idiots, falling all over themselves to prove their virility by wearing their pants around their knees. You wanted to get a squirt bottle and spray them like a naughty cat.


    Hmm¡­ Could I get Copperpot to invent me a spray bottle? Did I have one that was meaningful to me? Sigh, no, not even the one I¡¯d used a bunch to brush Sammy¡¯s hair. It was the <i>moment</i> that was meaningful, not the object.


    ¡°What did you talk to Copperpot about, Pete?¡± Whistlemop took this moment to ask, doing his best to look disinterested.


    I didn¡¯t buy it for a second. My high Perception made it a cinch to read every single one of his little tells, and I could tell he was <i>very </i>interested.


    ¡°We talked about how I¡¯m an out-of-this-world businessman.¡± I quipped.


    Whistlemop rolled his eyes. ¡°Bah!¡±


    The door swung open and a new customer walked in. I barely noticed as I buried myself deeper into my paperwork. I¡¯d let the lovebirds deal with it, or Bando, he was in here somewhere.


    I let the world pass by as I read and signed, and read and signed, until a cough broke me out of my reverie.


    ¡°Shove off. We¡¯re busy.¡± Whistlemop snipped. ¡°Come backter.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all well and good, mate. But I need to talk to Brewer Peter there. I¡¯ll only need a mite.¡±


    The dulcet tones of Steve Irwin pulled me back from the brink and I blinked up in confusion at the tall elf standing before me. ¡°Joseph?¡± I said, staring at him in astonishment. ¡°What¡¯re you doin¡¯ here?¡±


    ¡°I did say I was interested in your beers, didn¡¯t I?¡± The elf smiled innocently.


    ¡°I thought you would take a few more days.¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Pete, who <i>is </i>this and <i>why </i>is he interrupting the only time I¡¯ve had you alone in weeks?¡± Whistlemop demanded.


    ¡°A, you really do love me Whistlemop!¡± I gave the little bugger the biggest, sloppiest, blown kiss that had ever existed.


    He shuddered, moving away from me. ¡°I love <i>money</i>. You¡¯re a means to an end.¡±


    See, I could work with that! It was a way easier rtionship than whatever the tha Nether I currently had with Copperpot.


    I decided to get things over with and stood up to greet the elf. Balin was still in his seat, contently rxing, but Annie was straining to overhear what we were talking about. The few patrons we had in the bar didn¡¯t really seem to care, which¡­ was a good thing, I guessed.


    ¡°What can I do for you, Ambassador Joseph?¡±


    Whistlemop nched. ¡°You¡¯re an Ambassador?? Pete, why¡¯s there an elfin, I mean elven, Ambassador here? It¡¯s incredibly dangerous! Anything and everything we do to him can get us in trouble. They¡¯re even more protected than nobles!¡±


    Joseph gave a jollyugh. ¡°It¡¯s not all that bad. At least as long as I¡¯ve been Ambassador, at least. I heard about¡­ incidents involving thest one.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. So I¡¯ll repeat, <i>why </i>are you here Joseph?¡± I wasn¡¯t the most cordial , but I was still suspicious that tall, green, and handsome was a Chosen. I had nothing to base it on, other than gut instinct, but I wasn¡¯t going to start second guessing my choices <i>now.</i>


    ¡°You¡¯re a quarterfinalist, and I wanted to see what you were going to have for sale, yah?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± I folded my arms.


    ¡°No, quite honest! One of my jobs is to bring different trade goods to the king, and I can say that your brews and outlook are the most likely to seed at the moment.


    I whistled. ¡°You drank the beer of <i>every singlepetitor</i>??¡± It was possible, we¡¯d near done it ourselves.


    ¡°Of course! It felt like your little city hall put the extra effort in to really catch our attention. There are a few other elven merchants and even some from the humannds, here to seek out fascinating and interesting new treasures.


    I looked at Whistlemop, who returned a ¡®What tha hell you doin¡¯ glower.


    I shrugged. It was true that I owed Whistlemop my time, but it seemed equally important that I not miss my chance with this high ranking elf who could possibly bring beer to the masses.


    I called for a bottle of Liquid Gold and a pint of gose, and a curious Bando delivered them. Thed was staring at Joseph, open mouthed at serving an actual,. real life, elf! Joseph took a swig of each ss, raised an eyebrow, and gave me a huge grin. Whistlemop grumped and asked for some gnomish Barista Brew.


    Joseph and I got to work discussing the specifics of elven-dwarf beer trading right then and there. Hispany had a manifest of goods they were and were <i>not </i>allowed to ship using the magic circle in ckwall. Unfortunately, Sacred Brew was on the ¡®no shipping¡¯ list, which meant that until I could figure out a way around it, it was quite literally illegal to ship beer.


    It was a fascinating discussion, and I had to remind myself <i>constantly</i> that this guy was most likely here to try and use me or worm his way into my good graces. And him trying to ferret out if I was a Chosen wasn¡¯t off the menu. Still, I did my best to give him the benefit of the doubt; I hadn¡¯t seen anything nefarious <i>yet</i>. Unfortunately, as the afternoon wore on, more and more patrons filed in until we eventually needed every avable seat. Whistlemop stayed, listening in the background and making notes; the opportunistic little gnome had stopped being upset about the situation about thirty seconds in.


    Time passed and Bando eventually came to tell me Annie needed us to move to make space for the dinner rush. He had a chipper greeting and lots of questions for Joseph.


    I was packing up thest of the papers with Whistlemop when Bando asked <i>the big </i>question, unable to contain himself any further.


    ¡°I gotta say, Ambassador Joseph, has tha elf-King put any thought into tha plight of us here less fortunate dwarves?¡±


    Joseph arched an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the plush and cozy environs of the pub. He diplomatically replied, ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand, Bando.¡±


    ¡°The less fortunate, like them what¡¯s not born with noble blood, them folk out in Yellowwall, and them¡¯s that ain¡¯t past their two hundredth year!¡±


    Joseph nodded. ¡°Are you referring to that Thadd Harmsson bloke? Yeah, I¡¯ve been seeing his demonstrations around the city. I haven¡¯t been able to make it to one myself yet to see what it¡¯s all about, but I probably should.¡±


    Bando waffled for a moment, and then went all in. ¡°Well, sir, if¡¯n you¡¯d be willin¡¯, I can show you what our life is <i>really</i> like. And you¡¯d earn yerself a real buncha allies here in Kinshasa too.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡±


    I was making throat cutting gestures, but Bando continued. ¡°Aye, we¡¯ve got a public works projectin¡¯ up in Yellowwall. Pete¡¯ll bein¡¯ with. Would you be interested? It¡¯s tomorrow!¡±


    Joseph and Whistlemop both turned curious eyes on me, and I held back a groan.


    ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯m a firm believer of public service?¡± I prevaricated. ¡°Bando, it¡¯s <i>tomorrow</i>!? Why didn¡¯t you tell me!?¡±


    Bando scuffed a foot. ¡°I just did¡­¡±


    Whistlemop rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time today, but Joseph seemed genuinely interested. ¡°Ya¡¯know mate, I think that sounds like fun. You tell me tha time, and I¡¯ll make sure toe out in some grubbies ta help!¡±


    Bando¡¯s eyes gleamed with triumph, and I felt tears gleaming in the edge of my vision. This was turning into something much bigger than ¡°Pete and Bandoy pipes¡±, and I could already feel it in my bones ¨C Rosie Digger was going to murder me.


    They¡¯d never find my body, because it would be buried in a closet in the inn, locked behind a ¡®do not disturb¡¯ sign.

 Book 3: Chapter 36: Laying Pipe With Bando

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 36: Laying Pipe With Bando</h4>


    The lot of us ¨C Joseph, Johnsson, Whistlemop, Richter, and I took the day off to go and join Bando in ¡®improving the public utilities of Crack¡¯. Rosie was angry at first that we were ¡®humouring his delusions¡¯, but my exnation about looking out for Bando and guiding him as a responsible adult won her over. She now ¡®trusted me wholeheartedly to show Bando the error of his ways¡¯.


    No pressure, especially since I wasn¡¯t really sure there <i>was</i> an error. We were going with him to help install <i>water mains</i>, and the fact that such a major part of Kinshasa¡¯s infrastructure still didn¡¯t have running water was a testament to how little the nobility really cared about their own capital city!


    Having learned from our trip to Lucky Jean¡¯s, we didn¡¯t bring any of our more recognizable members. Whistlemop had his face stered all over the Godsdamn city, and under the circumstances I <i>really</i> didn¡¯t want any possible Chosen or their minions knowing I was around, so the two of us got disguises. We left behind Kirk, Aqua, and Penelope. Annie toyed with the idea ofing with, then decided <i>someone</i> had to hold down the fort.


    The only other dwarf I really wished coulde was Balin, and he was away today. Team Brightstar was preparing to spend a solid month or so descending the dungeon to the first teleport point, and he had lots to do.


    Bando brought us from the tavern to a nearby park in Greywall, where a grumble of his acquaintances were waiting. He introduced us as ¡®fellow dwarves interested in the cause¡¯. The only real outlier in our group, Joseph, waved his presence away as ¡®interest in seeing the reality of dwarven existence¡¯.


    And that was it. No further exnation necessary, no suspicions raised, and we were all suddenly friends. Much back pping and weing followed, and then we made the trek to Yellowwall, shouting catchy slogans and passing out flyers and dodging the guard all the while.


    These kids were <i>ripe</i> for agent provocateurs, and if there weren¡¯t any, I¡¯d eat my socks!


    We arrived in Yellowwall pretty much right as the project kicked off. Hundreds of dwarves and quite a lot of gnomes, all milling about excited and ready to work. There was a solid mix of crafts-dwarves, miners, adventurers, and even minor nobles scattered throughout the crowd. I didn¡¯t see any other humans or elves other than Joseph, though.


    Then, I finally got to see Thadd Harmsson in the flesh. From a distance, at least. He arrived surrounded by his aides and guards. He wore a fine ck business suit with the barest of nods to armor and beautiful gold filigree. He walked with a pronounced limp, aided by a silver cane, and I had to wonder why a nobleman of his station hadn¡¯t gotten one of those fancy magical prosthetics. His long grey hair was done up in a high-ponytail, and his beard was a well-brushed and enormous affair of streaked grey and ck.


    He had a demeanor that screamed ¡®I know better than you¡¯, and a look that said ¡®and I have more money too.¡¯


    In other words, he looked almost exactly as I¡¯d pictured him ¨C the very image of a modern major statesman. Bah.


    But what I really cared about were the people surrounding him.


    ¡°Oy, Bando!¡± I asked, as one of Harmsson¡¯s people began calling for quiet. ¡°Who are all the people with Harmsson. Do you know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t, but oy, Micah, do you know any of the folk with Lord Harmsson?¡±


    Bando¡¯s friend from his hometown was a rather in looking dwarf with a scraggly brown beard, brown eyes, brown, ruddy skin, and a face that screamed that he would¡¯ve been a brown-noser in any modern breakroom.


    ¡°What, you don¡¯t, Bando??¡± He replied with an eye-roll. ¡°They¡¯ve been workin¡¯ with us fer weeks now!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been focusing on the important things!¡±


    They began arguing. Ah, youth. I had to butt in to get their attention back. ¡°Micah! Who are they!?¡±


    Micah shrugged. ¡°Most of ¡®em are local nobility what owns tha smaller towns and what¡¯not ¡®round Kinshasa. They¡¯ve alle fer tha Octamillenial festivities. We¡¯ve met a few while doin¡¯ odd jobs fer Lord Harmsson.¡±


    ¡°Do any of ¡®em work fer city hall?¡±


    Micah beamed. ¡°Aye, they gots a lot of pull actually! Lady Vi to his left there is in charge of the cksmithing contests fer the Octamillenial, and Lord Brownbeard ta his right handles immigration. The rest of ¡®em work here and there in City Hall or tha Guilds. They¡¯s all some real influential dwarves, and Lady Vi even just got her Title! She¡¯s real young for it.¡± Micah gazed at the ck bearded dwarfess with star ¨C or possibly love ¨C struck eyes.


    ¡°Mmmm.¡± I stared harder at Harmsson. I still doubted he was the actual Chosen ¨C why use a half-dead old dwarf as a Chosen? But I couldn¡¯t discount it; there were advantages to old age in dwarven society. It¡¯d definitely been the right idea toe in disguise though.


    The crowd grew quiet, and Harmsson stepped forward to strangled shouts of ¡°Fer Crack and Kinshasa!¡± I held back my own ¡°Fer Crack and Annie.¡±


    Harmsson held a hand up to call for silence, and then spoke in a clear, deep voice. Apparently he had [Project Voice], just like every other bloody politician I¡¯d met in this world.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°My fellow Kinshasans! My dear kin of Crack! Thank you foring today! I know that many of you have taken the day off to be here, and I¡¯m thankful to your managers and mine supervisors for <i>giving you permission</i> toe!¡±


    There were some jeers at that, and Harmsson nodded and waited for silence to return before he continued. ¡°Because that¡¯s why we¡¯re here, is it not? Permission? Permission to do what you want? Permission to live the life <i>you</i> want to live! Permission to partake in ancient gnomish traditions! Permission to craft and create! Permission to be who you were <i>meant</i> to be! Permission to <i>help your neighbours</i><i>get fresh water</i>!¡±


    The crowd roared, and I almost wanted to roar too. This guy was <i>good!</i> Or at least his Charisma was through the roof! I could actually <i>feel</i> my emotional heartstrings being pulled, like when I listened to famous speeches in high school.


    Harmsson¡¯s voice echoed out even over the shouts. ¡°The city bleeds and it¡¯s only the efforts of hard-working citizens like yourself that staunches the flow! Even now, more refugees are piling up outside our walls, with nowhere to go. The Council threw them aside, but you all weed them into your homes and your workces to give them a better life. I have tales from my acquaintances here in city hall of the good you¡¯ve done with your outreach and volunteer work. The Refugee Retraining Program has been a massive sess!¡±


    Insert more cheers.


    ¡°Even today you give, and give, and give! But if you¡¯re <i>giving</i>, who is taking!? Who, I ask you, has cut us bloody in the first ce? Who drinks the lifeblood of our country without thought nor concern for its health! The King and his Council! The high nobles of Kinshasa! They im to be doing their hard work for the good of the country! But they¡¯ve forgotten that the nobility works at the sufferance of the people! They think they are given their positions through hard work and excellence, but where is their excellence for the dwarves of Yellowwall? Where is their hard work when the country suffers? Where are they <i>today!?</i>¡±


    Oof. Those were some <i>hard</i> words. And my reading of the Country of Crack Ordinances Chapter 2, Section 1 told me they were <i>illegal</i> words too. Lese Majeste and all that nonsense. I began looking around not just out of interest, but out of <i>self-interest</i>. I had zero n in getting caught up between the royal guard and a hard ce.


    Harmsson¡¯s speech continued for another minute or so. He was full of fire and brimstone and promises of a bright future through hard work and effort. It wasn¡¯t anything I hadn¡¯t heard before, but it burned through the crowd like wildfire.


    Then the speech was over, and Harmsson was gone. But the fire he¡¯d lit remained.


    And then the shovels came out.


    ¡ª


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this.¡± Whistlemop grumped. ¡°I already don¡¯t have enough time as it is.¡±


    ¡°Come on mate, keep it togetha!¡± Joseph dered with more chip than a family sized box of Old Dutch salt and vinegar. ¡°It¡¯s not so bad once ya get used to it!¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± I grunted. ¡°I agree with Whistlemop. Why in the Greasy Tresses of Minda¡¯s Mangy Mullet did I agree to this?¡±


    ¡°¡®Cause¡­ ¡®cause said you wanted to help all dwarfkind, and ¡®cause you believed in my ideals?¡± Bando said, intively.


    ¡°Because yer a stupid ass! And that¡¯s an insult to donkeys everywhere!¡± Johnsson groaned.


    ¡°At least you lot aren¡¯t doing all this hard work in a bloody disguise. This beard itches!¡± I rubbed at my ¡®dwarven miner¡¯ disguise.


    ¡°At least <i>yours </i>doesn¡¯t keep getting full of dirt!¡± Whistlemopined, cursing and pulling flecks of mud out of his false Yosemite-Sam moustache.


    ¡°And why do you both have costume ¨C¡± Bando began.


    ¡°It¡¯s a kink. Don¡¯t ask.¡± I grumbled, instantly heading his curiosity off at the dive.


    The lot of us were in the middle of digging a trench down a sidestreet of Yellowwall. There was absolutely no way we were going to get water pipes from the central cistern throughout <i>all</i> of Yellowwall, so each team had been given a single main street that we were to excavate. City Hall would send the pipes and [Engineers] as needed. Thankfully we didn¡¯t need to put the pipes down too low, as burrowing escapees from Deepcore would break through anything deep and make a mess of things.


    Iined about the work, but really it reminded me of being back in the mine. The simple joy of hard work and the sweat of your brow.


    It was obvious that Micah and Bando and the lot had never spent time mining, though. They were absolute wrecks after the first hour, and I had to turn to using [Mental Maths] to put them on a rotating schedule. The Ability worked okay, but it wouldn¡¯t rece a real clock or time keeping Ability.


    Now that I was waist deep in it, Yellowwall was even worse than I¡¯d thought. The sense of hopelessness hung over everything like a depressing fog, and the residents didn¡¯t raise a finger to help us in our task, even as we dug past them. To be fair, the only residents we could see were either very old, infirm, or very young.


    Micah and Bando and their friends kept up a healthy chatter, when they weren¡¯t gasping for breath. They were so very hopeful and innocent, and they made me feel old as all get out. It stood out like a sore thumb against the bleak surroundings, and I couldn¡¯t bring myself to utter a single pun or even break into the verses of <i>Diggy Hole</i>. The same was true for the rest of the Thirsty Goat gang, with even <i>Whistlemop</i> being driven to silence.


    Joseph was circumspect as well, barely ever speaking and just watching everything with a faint air of disapproval.


    All in all, it was depressing, and it made me agree with Harmsson even more. Seriously, this country could use a kick in the pants.


    We were at our fourth hour of digging when it happened. The terrifying moment that I¡¯d been praying wouldn¡¯te. The chance had always been there, but I¡¯d hoped it wouldn¡¯t happen. I¡¯d prayed, begging Midna, Yearn, Barck, <i>anybody</i>.


    I looked up from digging to see the smiling face of Thadd Harmsson, his twockeys, and a bevy of his private guards.


    Private guards with <i>axes</i>.

 Book 3: Chapter 37: Meeting Thadd Harmsson

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 37: Meeting Thadd Harmsson</h4>


    For the second time in as many weeks, I had to ask myself if I could make a body disappear.


    On one hand, we <i>already </i>had the holes dug, and I had a bunch of dwarves with ready shovels.


    On the other hand, we wouldn¡¯t be able to take out Harmsson and all his guards without losing at least a few of us.


    And everything in the world isn¡¯t about you, Pete! He probably isn''t even here for you! Probably.


    It was still a problem. [Politicians] and other political Titles could give Abilities that sensed falsehoods, lies, and even things like genealogy and names. [Politician] in particr gave [Heighten Emotions] and [Hidden Motives]. The first he¡¯d probably been using at his speech to amp us up, and the other let him roughly sense others motives and hide his own. We¡¯d discussed the possibility of running into Harmsson or some other powerful noble at this event and discounted it. It was supposed to be a huge event, so why would we ever meet one?


    In fact, there were <i>hundreds</i> of people here! Why was he visiting <i>us</i>!? Go away!!


    For his part, Harmsson gave a beaming smile as he peeked into the trench we were digging. He spoke in the same rich baritone from his speech, his vernacrcking the oddly flowery wording that I¡¯d noticed with other nobles. ¡°I wanted toe see you all personally. I heard that your group¡¯s been doing excellent work for Lord Knowles. Kinshasa appreciates your noble hearts, for it is upon the backs of strong dwarves such as yourselves that we will carry ourselves forwards.¡±


    He bowed low, leaning on his silver topped cane. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Phew! I was off the hook! Thank you for the thank you, Lord Harmsson, now kindly make like a rock and roll.


    The youths all gawped like fish, until Micah stepped forward, ¡°Aye, thankee Lord Harmsson. We didn¡¯t realize that you knew who we were!¡±


    ¡°Of course I know you, Micah!¡± Browning gave an affirming nod, and Micah nearly fainted. ¡°How could I not know the name of the dwarf who stood up against the guard at Redwall!¡±


    While the two of them talked, I did my best to avoid calling attention to myself. I didn¡¯t exactly hide, but I did hold up a dirt wall. Joseph stood beside me looking bored and ignoring the byy.


    As Harmsson finished talking up Micah, he called down, ¡°Excuse me, sir elf! Am I correct in recognizing you as Ambassador Stannard?¡±


    Shit!


    Joseph looked up at his name, finally acknowledging Harmsson¡¯s presence. Thankfully, he stepped away from me, pulling Harmsson¡¯s attention with him. ¡°Yea, that would be me, Lord Harmsson! Well met.¡± He put his two fists together and bowed straight at the hips.


    There was some muttering from Harmsson¡¯s entourage, and Micah and his crew stepped back in shock, a few of them shooting questioning looks at Bando. He was going to have some exining to do, but we¡¯d make sure to back him up. It wasn¡¯t like we¡¯d tried to <i>hide</i> Joseph¡¯s position, we just¡­ hadn¡¯t mentioned it.


    Harmsson sped his fists together and bowed simrly. ¡°Well met, Ambassador! I admit that I¡¯m surprised to see you here! In ourst meeting you indicated that Awemedinad wasn¡¯t interested in inter-dwarven politics!¡±


    Joseph smiled a diplomatically neutral smile. ¡°Ah, but this isn¡¯t politics. I wanted to experience some aspects of true dwarven life, and what could be more dwarven than digging a hole?¡±


    Joseph and Harmsson shared twin-edged smiles. I held back an impulse to move further away.


    ¡°And how¡¯ve you been finding it, Ambassador? Does the city outside of Redwall meet with your expectations?¡± Harmsson asked. ¡°Your predecessor never visited Yellowwall, as far as I know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit, it wasn¡¯t quite what I was expecting.¡± Joseph said. He then pointed his hand around at us. ¡°But I¡¯ve met some fine blokes here. Kinshasa really is in good hands if they¡¯re its future.¡±


    For the first time, Harmsson¡¯s smile seemed genuine. ¡°They are indeed. Would you have some time after this, Ambassador? I¡¯d love to chat.¡±


    Joseph thought for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Yea, I could do that.¡±


    ¡°Excellent! Thank you!¡± He turned to examine the rest of us, and I tried not to sweat.


    And then the absolute <i>fiend</i> made his way into the trench. He had to slide in, his bum leg making the jump difficult, but he never swore orined, and hepletely ignored the stains left behind on his suit. Once he was down and had brushed himself off, he went around from dwarf to dwarf to gnome bumping their fists and thanking them personally. If they had babies he would¡¯ve kissed their foreheads.


    I wasst in line, so I got to watch everyone else react. It was mostly shell-shock or bashful swearing. Richter and Johnsson were the most circumspect, limiting themselves to a simple dwarven fistbump. Then it was my turn.


    Harmsson¡¯s fistbump was strong, but not overpowering. I looked him in the eyes, trying to take his measure.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, young dwarf!¡± he said. ¡°Thank you for your hard work for the cause!¡±


    I pitched my voice a bit lower than usual and replied, ¡°Thankee Lord Harmsson, I heard ¡®bout ya from me friend, and wanted ta do me part ta help.¡± True, though really it was to help <i>Bando</i>, not him. My motives were pure! No hidden motives here! I¡¯m just a in old Pete, here to help!


    Harmsson nced back over his shoulder. ¡°Ah, from Micah? A fine bit o¡¯ gold, that one.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Nah, I came with Bando.¡±


    Harmsson smiled again. ¡°Bando! Were you there when he denounced the tyranny of the Council in the Grand Market itself!?¡± He said thest grandly, sweeping a hand over in Bando¡¯s direction.


    Bando swooned harder than my daughter ever had over vampires <i>or</i> werewolves.


    ¡°That I did. He even called ¡®em ¡®A Lot O¡¯ Craggy Karst¡¯¡± Oh, I <i>definitely </i>remembered that one. That was the first time he¡¯d been dragged home by the guard. He was still on probation, and I strongly suspected after today¡¯s events that a reform mine was in his near future.


    Harmsson gave me a nod and a smile, then turned to address the crowd. He pointed at a dwarf in coveralls with a set of oversized goggles on his bald head. ¡°I¡¯m told by our [Engineer] that at the current rate it¡¯ll be two days before the pipes are ready to beid. It¡¯s behind schedule, but not by much. Can I count on your support tomorrow as well? With your hard work, Yellowwall should have running water as soon as Barday!¡±


    Everyone cheered, myself included. See, politics was one thing, but great public works like this were absolutely worth the cheers. Too bad I was jaded enough to recognize that we were doing freebour so rich dwarves didn¡¯t need to give money to poor dwarves.


    And I WAS one of the rich dwarves! I could be sitting in my hot spring right now, rxing and counting gold. Instead I was knee deep in mud and swinging a pickaxe! Bah!


    Harmsson pulled Micah aside for another quiet chat, and the rest of us got back to work with renewed vigor. I activated a [Power Pick] with certain vicious glee. When the two finished their conversation, they shared a fist bump, and Harmsson climbed out of the hole. He gave us a cheerful farewell, instructed us to contact Lord Knowles when we were done, then left with his people in tow.


    Having now met the dwarf, I fully agreed with Rosie¡¯s assessment of him. He was <i>dangerous</i>. I¡¯d had a few pre-written lines to try and catch him as my mystery Chosen, much like I had with Copperpot, but decided against it. I didn¡¯t want to chance piquing his interest at <i>all</i>. Lucky Jean had been right; avoid political or warlike Chosen and their circles at all costs!


    Maybe we could just keep Bando so busy that he wouldn¡¯t have time for all this. Or¡­


    Wasn¡¯t Sam entangled in all this intrigue? He¡¯d said he and Drum were <i>involved </i>with the local unrest. I could put him onto keeping Bando safe. Yes, that was the ticket! I''d contact him via a request for a ¡®Red Rabbit¡¯ at the adventurer¡¯s guild and tag out.


    And then I¡¯d never, never, ever get involved with Harmsson ever again.


    ¡ª


    Thadd Harmsson walked away from the trench of workers, a smile upon his face. As soon as they were out of sight, he activated [Clean Attire] and his suit quickly lost every speck of dirt that it¡¯d umted. It was no [Immacte Attire] but it would do! After they¡¯d walked a block away, his brow furrowed, though his smile never slipped.


    ¡°Is there something wrong sir?¡± Lady Vi asked, catching his change of mood immediately.


    ¡°Is it Ambassador Stannard?¡± Lord Newcastle added. ¡°Why <i>was </i>he there, do you think?¡±


    ¡°I am not sure why the Ambassador was there. Hopefully our talkter will illuminate that bit of darkness,¡± Harmsson said. ¡°[Hidden Motives] did not activate on anyone, but several of them were not registered with [Recognize Face]. I asked Micah how well he knew them, and he said they were <i>really</i> new, brought in by Bando just this morning. They came with the Ambassador.¡±


    ¡°Bando, the young firebrand?¡± Lady Vi asked, chuckling. ¡°How on Erd did <i>he </i>get in contact with Stannard?¡±


    ¡°Yes. That is the one, and I do not imagine <i>he</i> got in contact with <i>them</i>. I suspect that he was singled out as easy to manipte.¡±


    The pair of noblesughed out loud at that one.


    ¡°He¡¯s tryin¡¯ ta get at tha secrets of Dwarven Engineerin¡¯!¡± Their [Engineer] grumped. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you lot noticed, but I¡¯ve got tha Perception of a <i>hawk</i>, and two of ¡®em were wearing disguises!¡±


    Lord Harmsson made a motion to Lady Vi and she pulled out a notebook and pen. ¡°Which ones?¡±


    ¡°Thast one you were talkin¡¯ to, and tha shifty gnome!¡±


    Lord Newcastle¡¯s face turned thunderous. ¡°Do you think they are with the Guard? Or the Council of Greybeards?¡±


    Harmsson nodded. ¡°Aye. That or some noble trying to curry favour with Stannard, most likely.¡±


    ¡°Should we put Ambermine on them?¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s brow furrowed in thought. ¡°He is a bit¡­ too eager. If it actually is ome youngsters who want to remain anonymous while helping the cause, I do not want to chance Ambermine doing something we will all regret.¡±


    ¡°Not likely with Stannard following them around.¡± Lord Newcastle muttered.


    ¡°Should I put Sam and Drum on it?¡± Lady Vi asked.


    Harmsson stopped walking and tapped his fingers on his cane for a moment before speaking. ¡°Tell him that I would like Bando and his friends followed. They will need to be <i>very</i> circumspect. Stannard would not leave thepound without his guards, and Awemedinad¡¯s [Hidden Guard] are among the best.¡±


    ¡°Bah. I didn¡¯t see nothin¡¯, and if my eyes didn¡¯t catch ¡®em, they weren¡¯t there.¡± The [Engineer] said vehemently.


    ¡°I am not doubting your stats, Engineer Urist, but we should always y it safe.¡±


    ¡°What should we do if they turn out to be from one of the noble houses?¡± Lady Vi asked.


    Harmsson shrugged. ¡°It will depend on the house. If it is some minor noble trying to curry favour with the Ambassador, or one that the Ambassador is using, then we can leave them alone. There is no benefit to needlessly antagonizing Stannard. Maybe we will even be able to get them on our side.¡±


    ¡°And if they are spies from the Council? Or one of the Dukes?¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s eyes sharpened, and his tone grew deadly. ¡°<i>Then</i> send Ambermine.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 38: No More Beer!?

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 38: No More Beer!?</h4>


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Stat Increased: [Strength]!</strong>


    Your Strength has increased by 1! Your new Strength is 17.8!


    Four exhausting hourster, and we were just about done with our trench. I swept the sweat from my brows and pounded Joseph on the back.


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed you kept up with us Joseph! I¡¯ll need to re-re-revaluate my opinion of elves after this!¡±


    Joseph was one of only six people left in the trench, including myself, Johnsson, Richter, and two of Micah¡¯s friends who''d <i>also</i> spent some time in a penal mine.


    The rest were variouslyying face down in the mud or groaning on the street above us.


    Joseph didn¡¯t even need to wipe sweat from his brow. ¡°Yea, it¡¯s one of the big benefits of bein¡¯ a nt. I don¡¯t get <i>tired</i>. I do lose energy, and I¡¯m gonna need to imbibe a lot of sun and nutrients after this, but I can keep going ¡®till I wilt.¡±


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t do that!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not nning on it.¡±


    We sharedradely smiles. There really was something about toiling in a hole for hours on end that brought people together. I still didn¡¯t <i>trust</i> him, but I was starting to like him.


    With our task done, it was time to start our hour-long walk home. I wanted a hot bath, both to wipe off all the grime and the feeling of listening to Harmsson talk. I¡¯d never had the misfortune of meeting any of our Prime Ministers in person, but I had to imagine that was what it was like. If I could scrub the folds of my brain with soap I would.


    We parted with Joseph as we stumbled our way into Greywall; he was going to rent a unigoat and ride the rest of the way back to Redwall. Before he left he made me promise to put aside some of the first bottles of gose. I was more than happy to agree, and also promised him a solution for the export problem soon; I already had an idea percting!


    We passed three sets of protesters on the way home. The first was some of the other volunteers, who''d set up on the thoroughfare from the main gate to Greywall. Then there was one group set up outside an Octamillenial contestant¡¯s cksmithing shop, and another outside of our very own Thirsty Goat. At least the [Brewers] were a bit more subdued than the [cksmiths]. They mostly just loomed, smelled of onions, and booed at me in particr when I passed.


    And they certainly weren¡¯t impacting our sales! The ce was <i>jumping</i> when I stumbled in, mypatriots in tow.


    All I wanted to do was go to bed, so when I saw a face I recognized I groaned.


    ¡°Ya don¡¯t need ta look <i>so</i> happy ta see me, me boy!¡± Sam said. He and Drum had taken over the table by the firece again, though this time they¡¯de alone.


    ¡°Hah! I actually wanted to talk to you! Just¡­ tomorrow or somethin¡¯.¡± I walked up to fist bump the pair. Drum had a bandage around one arm, and was favouring it. Sam¡¯s usual scruffiness was even scruffier than usual. ¡°You two¡¯ve seen better days.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard work doin¡¯ what we do.¡± Drum said, his face stiff. ¡°I praise Barck that we¡¯re even alive, and long for the good old days of brewin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s not <i>that</i> bad.¡± Sam said, waving the concern away.


    ¡°Yer not tha¡¯ one that got ¡®is arm bit by some fool noble¡¯s ¨C ¡° Drum cut the rest off and nced around the pub. ¡°Next time ¡®yer goin¡¯ through the door first.¡±


    ¡°If ya didn¡¯t want ta get bit, ya shoulda given yer other arm ta be a chewtoy.¡± Sam said, pointing to Drum¡¯s silver arm. Drum snarled, and the silver limb morphed into an axe. He dragged it threateningly along the table.


    ¡°Oy! Don¡¯t you be wreckin¡¯ our stuff!¡± I admonished, smacking Drum on the helmet. He blinked, growled, then morphed his limb back. He drained his mug and mmed it onto the table, then stalked over to the bar to get it refilled.


    ¡°But really, how¡¯ve you been doin¡¯?¡± I asked. ¡°You sleepin¡¯ properly? Takin¡¯ care of yerself?¡±


    Sam¡¯s face softened. ¡°Aye, that I have, son. I¡¯ve seen better days, but no poncy nobles are gonna be the end of ol¡¯ Sam.¡± He struck a pose.


    ¡°d to hear it. You doin¡¯ any bagpiping these days? We could use another bard here. Thest one¡¯s been yin¡¯ the perennial hit <i>Gold, Gold, Gold, </i>on repeat.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that? S¡¯ a good one!¡±


    ¡°Eh¡­ it can get a bit old after a while.¡±


    ¡°I can see why <i>you</i>¡¯d think that. There¡¯s always good ol¡¯ <i>Gold, Gold, Gold, Gold</i> if¡¯n it¡¯s botherin¡¯ ya. Ask ¡®em ta sing it next time, any bard worth their silver knows it.¡±


    ¡°... thanks Sam.¡±


    ¡°Happy ta help!¡±


    I sat down to join Sam while Drum returned with a full mug and some pretzels and mustard. Sam reached up for one and Drum batted his hand away.


    ¡°So, why <i>are</i> you two here?¡± I asked, then lowered my voice. ¡°And what¡¯ve you <i>really</i> been up to?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been rolling with a fellow by tha name of Thad Harmsson.¡± Drum said. ¡°Have you met ¡®im?¡±


    ¡°Hah! I knew it!¡± I almost shouted. ¡°I was <i>just</i> at one of his rallies! I actually shook his hand!¡±


    Sam and Drum exchanged nces. ¡°And what were ya¡¯ doin¡¯ there?¡± Drum asked.


    ¡°Aye. Thought you¡¯d stay clear of stuff like that.¡± Sam added.


    I pointed to where Bando was draped unconscious over a bench. ¡°That youngin¡¯ there, Bando, has been getting himself involved in Harmsson¡¯s little political mess. I went to make sure he was stayin¡¯ out of trouble, find out fer myself if things were on the up and up. His mum is worried sick that he won¡¯te home one day. I was actually going to contact you and see if you¡¯d take him under yer wing.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°So ya met Harmsson, eh? What did ya think?¡± Sam asked, an odd timbre to his tone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like Harmsson, sorry, he¡¯s slimy. He¡¯s doing good fer the city though, so I can forgive ¡®im his personal foibles. For now. Why?¡±


    ¡°He asked us to see if you were on the up ¡®n up.¡± Drum admitted. ¡°You lot from tha Goat were actin¡¯ suspicious enough that he wanted us to look into ya.¡±


    <i>SHIT!</i>


    No, that wasn¡¯t quite vehement enough for the situation.


    BY ALL THA BLOODY BITS O¡¯ THA GORRAM GODS!!!


    ¡°Argh. I really didn¡¯t want to be on<i></i>his radar! And now he¡¯s sending the goon squad after me!?¡±


    ¡°His what?¡± Drum asked, confused.


    Sam waved the question off. ¡°How¡¯d ya get involved with tha greenskin, Stannard?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I ran into him when he was courting Raspberrysyrup. He wants to poach her to y music for the Elven King.¡±


    Drum choked on his beer. ¡°That¡¯s a bad idea! Don¡¯t get involved with royals! ¡®Specially Kings or Queens! You tell thatss to avoid ¡®im like e¡¯ was beardless! ¡®Cause he is.¡±


    Sam nodded. ¡°So that¡¯s tha how. But <i>why</i> was he with you all at Yellowwall? Seems a strange ce fer an elf.¡±


    I pursed my lips. ¡°Is this an interrogation? It¡¯ll cost at least ten gold if you want to bribe the innkeeper for information.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Damn right!¡± Sam guffawed, opening his purse to pass me ten gold. ¡°We¡¯re just checkin¡¯ that Stannard isn¡¯t yankin¡¯ you around.¡±


    I pocketed the cash. ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t trust him, though he seems nice enough. We got to talking at Berry¡¯s, and he really likes the changes I¡¯ve been making to the Sacred Brew. He thinks it could catch on up above. Then Bando came and invited us both to help with the Yellowwall project, and Joseph thought it would be interesting. So a bunch of us went, and now we¡¯re <i>tired</i>.¡± I said thest bit with emphasis, slumping down on the table.


    ¡°He likes your beer too, eh? Seems like yer popr; I heard about you advancin¡¯ in tha contest too. Congrats on making it into tha next round, me¡¯boyo!¡± Sam pped me on the shoulder. Drum frowned. ¡°Dunno how you¡¯ll get yer beers up above. It¡¯s illegal ta¡¯ ship Sacred Brew outta Crack ¡®cept to a few dwarven enves in tha South and tha northern enves.¡±


    My upper lip must have grown stiff, because Sam¡¯sughter turned into a look of rm.


    ¡°Yer not really thinkin¡¯ of it, are ya?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Ehhh, freein¡¯ beer has always been one of my dreams. I think everyone in the world should have the opportunity to drink it. One of the reasons I¡¯ve been making so many changes is to make it more ptable for other races. It¡¯s worked out great for the gnomes, why not the elves? Or humans, or beastfolk, or even <i>dragons</i>?¡±


    Drum guffawed. ¡°And here we were thinkin¡¯ <i>we </i>were tha revolutionaries! You¡¯ll have difficulty keepin¡¯ yer head on that path, boyo!¡±


    I rapped my fingers on the table. ¡°I¡¯m not too sure. The Brewer¡¯s Guild didn¡¯t fight too hard when we introduced the Sacred Brew to gnomes. If I take things one small step at a time it should be fine. And I have a n.¡±


    ¡°Ach.¡± Sam ran his hand through his beard. ¡°Tha Brewers are happy s¡¯long as you can make ¡®em gold. Problem¡¯ll be with regr dwarves. All it¡¯ll take is tha right Specialized rockhead who hates the idea enough to make yer life miserable.¡±


    ¡°Aye. And there¡¯s still tha¡¯ problem with exportin¡¯ it.¡± Drum agreed. ¡°It¡¯s a big dream Pete. Maybe too big.¡±


    ¡°No, I really think I¡¯ve figured out a solution to that. It was something that Ambassador Stannard said that gave me the idea, actually. There¡¯s been two big roadblocks since the beginning. The Brewers Guild has a lock on the production of Sacred Brew, and there¡¯re all kinds ofws against exporting it.¡±


    Sam and Drum nodded. Though Drum seemed more interested in his pretzel.


    I sat up proudly. ¡°I think there¡¯s an easy solution to both problems. The rules are all technically for <i>Sacred Brew</i>, so I just need to make something that <i>isn¡¯t</i> Sacred Brew.¡±


    Sam looked confused. ¡°How does that work?¡±


    I pulled a notebook out of my pocket. ¡°I¡¯ll still brew beer, but it <i>doesn¡¯t need to be Sacred Brew</i>! I started thisst night, and it should be done by the end of the week. This is the answer to my problem!¡±


    Drum ppedzily. ¡°Congrattions, it¡¯s a book!¡±


    I waved it. ¡°Hah, this book contains the secret ingredient to solving what <i>ales</i> beer in Crack! Nyuck. It¡¯ll break the hold the Brewers Guild has on beer, and they¡¯ll do it <i>willingly, </i>pulled down from their high goats by the weight of their own egos!¡±


    I passed it to Sam who opened it to the first page.


    ¡°Yeast: The Practical Guide to Beer Fermentation,¡± he read. ¡°By White and Zainasheff. Who¡¯re they?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not important. I managed to obtain a copy of a treatise they wrote.¡± From [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] but they didn¡¯t need to know that. ¡°What matters is what Sacred Brew <i>is</i>.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± Drum asked, dangerously. Ah yes, he¡¯d probably sworn all kinds of oaths about protecting the secrets of Sacred Brew.


    I bit my tongue, and rejiggered what I¡¯d been about to say. ¡°It¡¯s a load of secret ingredients, as well as something called <i>Ancestral Seed</i>. All Sacred Brew, going all the way back to the First Brewer, have been using the same ingredients, and using the same Ancestral Seed. <i>That¡¯s</i> what Sacred Brew is!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± Sam said, continuing to leaf through the book. ¡°This looks technical¡­¡±


    ¡°It is. In fact, it¡¯s technical enough that even I don¡¯t really understand it.¡± Which was true. It was a book I loved and had read to death, but I¡¯d never really gotten into yeast culturing. I hadn¡¯t needed to. I was now incredibly thankful to good old White and Zainasheff! They didn¡¯t know it, but they were going to help save beer in another world!


    ¡°Regardless,¡± I continued. ¡°With that book, as well as instructions on how to make a bittering agent of our own design, <i>anyone</i> can make beer.¡±


    Drum twigged first. ¡°But without Ancestral Seed <i>or </i>the secret ingredients.¡±


    I gave him some finger guns. ¡°So it <i>won¡¯t be Sacred Brew</i>. We can just call it <i>beer</i>, or <i>ale</i>, or something, and the Brewer¡¯s Guild will be all over the name change because they don¡¯t like all these changes to their Sacred Brew.¡±


    It was a simr trick to how the EU had gotten around the Reinheitsgebot in Germany. Rather than trying to change thew, I¡¯d just make it so that we skirted <i>around</i> thew. I still needed to run it past Richter and Annie, but I was almost positive it would work!


    There was a beat, then Sam began to chuckle, and even Drum snickered. Soon the three of us were guffawing, and the other patrons were looking in our direction to see what was so funny.


    ¡°That¡¯s brilliant, me boy!¡± Sam thwapped me on the shoulder again.


    ¡°Aye, that may work!¡± Drum agreed. ¡°I can see me fellow Master Brewers thinkin¡¯ it¡¯s a fad that won¡¯t catch on, and they¡¯ll be pleased that yer showin¡¯ proper deference ta tha Sacred Brew!¡±


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m real proud of it! Now, have I answered all your questions, fine patrons? If so, I need to hit tha¡¯ cave.¡±


    ¡°Aye. Don¡¯t you worry about Harmsson, I¡¯ll let him know yer me¡­ pal, and he¡¯ll shove off,¡± Sam said. ¡°And you still haven¡¯t gotten better reinforcements fer that door. You need to do that.¡±


    ¡°... You know, I think I will.¡± As I stood to leave, I turned to Drum. ¡°And you should get that arm looked at by Richter. He¡¯s a [Healer] now.¡±


    Drum gave me a toast with his mug. ¡°Thankee, Pete. We¡¯ll keep an eye on the Bando boy, make sure he¡¯s doin¡¯ well.¡±


    I yawned mightily and waved goodbye to the old curmudgeons before plodding to the manor house. Sleeeeeeeep. I hoped Balin was doing better than I was, wherever he was by now.

 Book 3: Chapter 39: Balin - Deepcore Dungeon

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 39: Balin - Deepcore Dungeon</h4>


    Balin had been in Deepcore long enough to make a decision.


    He liked the Kinshasan dungeon more than Minnova¡¯s Greentree.


    Not that he wasn¡¯t patriotic! Give him some good old Minnovan mushfolk shroomskin or sweet vine any day over all this cursed salt!


    But there wasn¡¯t <i>muck</i> everywhere, just good old rock and stone.


    Though, to be fair, <i>all</i> dungeons kind of sucked.


    ¡°Are you done cleaning all those guts off your shield yet, Balin?¡± Aishablue asked. Unlike past adventures, the gnomess didn¡¯t have an orb of light following her. In the dark of Deepcore¡¯s Whitehall, that made her a target, and they now had an alternative ¨C so why take that risk?


    Instead, Balin¡¯s armor and axe shone with a brilliant inner light that kept the encroaching darkness at bay.


    Off to the side, Starshine wielded arge two handed maul that shimmered as well.


    The pair of them were impossible to miss in the otherwise darkndscape.


    The first big difference upon entry to Deepcore had been their assigned number. Whitehall was an incredibly wide beach that led down to the Sandsea, and adventurers were given a ne¡¯ to head to before delving deeper into the dungeon. This system gave the monsters time to be reborn from the strong mana in the stone, and ensured adventuring parties didn¡¯t identally hit each other in the dark. A scavenging team would follow a short way behind the team to take monster corpses back, and you could ept requests to escort salt mining teams.


    The ¡®sky¡¯ was a ck basalt ceiling filled with shimmering salt crystals just a dozen feet above their heads. The effect was not quite at the level of Minnova¡¯s stunning cave starscape ¨C and it was more blueish than purple ¨C but it came close. The beach was also made of salt, though it was contaminated with crushed shells, limestone, and other sediment. Large boulders and stones littered the beach, blocking longer sightlines and creating craggy hallways.


    Unlike the first zones in Greentree, Whitehall was wide open enough to see and hear other parties, and even as the team rested they could see the lights and sounds of other adventuring parties in their ownnes farther along the beach.


    ¡°I¡¯m sensing somethin¡¯ underneath us.¡± Raysdotter remarked. As the party member with the highest Perception, she was often the first to notice changes in their environment. ¡°[Dangersense] isn¡¯t going off, though.¡±


    ¡°Must just be an Ironshell passing through.¡± Flowerpott remarked. ¡°Should we call it up?¡±


    Starshine nodded at Balin. ¡°Your call Balin, are you ready?¡±


    Balin sighed and hopped to his feet. ¡°Aye, may as well. They¡¯re worth more than everythin¡¯ else in Whitehall, and I¡¯m itchin¡¯ to get more practice in. I can clean guts offter.¡±


    ¡°Formation three everyone!¡± Starshine announced, and the team moved like a well-oiled machine. Balin got ready next to Starshine while the rest moved back. When everyone was in position, and Aishablue had a spell activated and ready, Starshine took her maul and with a cry of ¡°[Basic sh]!¡± pounded her maul onto the beach.


    Three secondster, a crab the size of a lounge chair erupted from the sand, spraying rock and salt everywhere. The team was used to this tactic by now though, and they shielded their eyes through the spray just long enough for Aishablue to reply in kind with a blinding sh of light.


    The grey, metallic crab monster frothed in agony, scrubbing at its stalk-like eyes. Its shell had a metallic sheen to it, and it was dented and scored in ces. Unlike a regr crab, the ironshell had a long scorpion-like tail, which it stabbed out with blindly.


    Balin stepped forward to catch the stabs on his shield, and the Starshine flowed around him to crush one eyestalk with her hammer before dodging out of the way as the ironshell swept an enormous w through the space where she¡¯d just been. Balin moved to ce himself in full view of the ironshell¡¯s remaining eye, and gestured threateningly at it with his axe.


    The monster, half blind and in agony pulled both ws and its tail back, then dug its multiple legs into the sand and tensed.


    ¡°It¡¯s a charge! [Minor Blessing: Strength of All Self!]!¡± Raysdotter shouted, the ck-garbed [Cleric] suddenly appearing from behind the creature. She clung to the tail and anchored herself in the sand. Manny spun out of the darkness and leapt forward to slice one sickle arm through the joint of one of the ironshell¡¯s legs, severing it.


    A momentter, the ironshell leapt into the air, attempting to bring its ws and tail and massive bulk down on Balin. However, its missing leg and the extra weight on its tail caused its jump to fall off target, and the monsternded on its side, legs scrabbling for purchase.


    ¡°Aishablue! Stun!¡± Starshine shouted, surging forward.


    In a moment she and Balin were on the ironshell, pushing it onto its back. The monster attempted to use its ws and tail to right itself, but Raysdotter was instantly there to deny it purchase with flicks of her mace and kicks from her steel boots.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Ready!¡± Balin shouted, as he ran to the ce hisrge axe ¨C point downwards ¨C on the underbelly of the beast.


    ¡°Stunning Light!¡± Aishablue shouted, and a crackle of light arced from her palm to the ironshell¡¯s face.


    The beast went limp for a bare second, but it was enough time for Balin to steady the axe, and for Starshine to drive it through the hard metallic exoskeleton with a [Basic sh], like a wedge through wood.


    The ironshell spasmed onest time as Balin¡¯s axe found its nervous system, its ws iling a few times before going limp.


    ¡°Well, that was easy.¡± Flowerpott remarked. The grey-haired gnome hadn¡¯t even moved through the entire fight, his attention focused on directing his prized mantis and keeping an eye out for any monsters attracted to the fight with his eye-in-the-sky ssflies.


    ¡°Easy for you to say ya old goat, how about <i>you</i> body the beast next time, eh?¡± Raysdotter chuckled.


    ¡°Puhleeze. Have you seen me?¡± Flowerpott gestured down at his petite gnomish engineer frame.


    ¡°Focus!¡± Starshine shouted. ¡°Ironshells can still fight when dead!¡±


    At that exact moment, the ironshell snapped in a wide arc with its ws, sweeping up Starshine in one, and bouncing off Balin¡¯s shield with the other. Starshine¡¯s te armor creaked, but didn¡¯t bend or break under the pressure of the monster¡¯s grip, and just as suddenly as it had sprung back to life, the monster fell dead again.


    With Starshine still in its w, now locked tightly shut in death.


    There was a moment of silence as the party registered what had happened.


    Raysdotterughed first. ¡°Hah! Maybe <i>you</i> should¡¯ve focused, Star!¡±


    ¡°Aye, looks like she¡¯s feelin¡¯ a bit <i>crabby</i>!¡± Flowerpott giggled.


    The rest of the party broke into varying guffaws, chuckles and snorts at that.


    ¡°All of you shut yer traps and help me out of here.¡± Starshine grumped.


    ¡ª


    One solid day of travel down the dark beach and the party arrived at the shore of the Sandsea. They had several more encounters with ironshells, all just as easily handled, as well as other monsters like sandfleas and shellbacks. The only difficult spot had been when a shellback hade bouncing and spinning into their midst while they¡¯d been preupied with a passel of bangshrimp hiding in a rocky outcrop. That had been touch and go until Balin activated [Heroic Moment] and rushed the bangshrimp alone. They¡¯d managed toe out of it with only minor injuries, which Raysdotter had fixed up with [Minor Blessing: Regeneration].


    The Sandsea was quite literally a sea made of sand, the brown grains rolling up into Whitehall before pulling back again. The waves traveled slowly, but surely, from the smallest peaks to thergest rogues. The sparkling ck roof of Whitehall gave way to a bright blue sky as they crossed the threshold, and birds could be seen flying far overhead. It was very much like walking out of a beach cave to the open expanse of the ocean, and the party was forced to take a moment to readjust their eyes.


    ¡°Agh, give me tha¡¯fort of a cave again.¡± Balin grumbled.


    ¡°Aishablue, you¡¯re a light mage, turn it off!¡± Flowerpottined, his hand sweeping the bright light.


    ¡°How powerful do you think I <i>am</i>?¡± Aishablue tittered.


    For her part, Starshine plopped onto her rear in the salty/sand mix that demarcated the zone change and closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth. ¡°Formation two everyone. Let¡¯s take a small break and make our next n.¡±


    The group circled up, while Manny and the ssflies began moving in an arc around them.


    ¡°Any other new Milestones other than Balin¡¯s?¡± She asked.


    After the twentieth dead sandflea, Balin had received a Notification for a new Milestone for killing monsters, and he¡¯d chosen the ever-popr [Basic sh]. It was basic, but always valuable inbat.


    Everyone roundly agreed that none of <i>them</i> had gotten a fancy schmancy Milestone.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s talk about what¡¯s next.¡± Starshine said, pulling out a notebook. ¡°The Sandsea will be hard to traverse, but it should be a minecart track after that awfulke.¡±


    Everyone shuddered at the memory. The Emerald Lake within Greentree could technically be boated over, as dangerous as it was, but they¡¯d chosen to walk the long way around instead. The trip had been long, muddy, and one they¡¯d sooner forget.


    The Sandsea, while certainly viscous, could be walked <i>on </i>as long as you didn¡¯t stay in one ce for too long. Of course, any fool that either stood in one spot for too long or died on thezily roiling surface would eventually sink beneath the swells, food for the shalesharks and other deep-sea dwellers. The party would¡¯ve taken a boat if possible, but there was very little Aether mana in Deepcore and anything asrge as a sand skiff would quickly be becalmed. They would have to hoof it again.


    ¡°Are we still scheduled to take on the boss?¡± Aishablue asked.


    Starshine nodded. ¡°Yes, I put our name in. We¡¯ll need to dive over the ck Escarpment and get to the next point in the teleportationwork before we can challenge it, though. I know several of you, myself included, are waiting to get a rare Milestone from it before Specializing.¡±


    ¡°Aye, not all of us can be as high and mighty as Mr. Big Prefix Goldbritches over there.¡± Flowerpott said usingly, glowering in mock anger at Balin.


    Balin shrugged good naturedly. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say no ta another rare Milestone meself, either.¡±


    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll rest here for an hour, then make our way out onto the sea.¡± Starshine decided. ¡°There aren¡¯t any morenes to keep to, so make sure to keep an eye out for any other teams. The Escarpment can be hard to find for first-timers, but Raysdotter¡¯s got [Dungeoneer] so we should be fine.¡±


    ¡°Yup! Just follow me everyone!¡± Raysdotter said, cheerily.


    ¡°When has <i>that</i> ever gone wrong.¡± Aishablue muttered, earning a kick from steel-toed boots.


    The team rested merrily, watched over by ss golems, until they were itching to be on their way again.


    Together they stepped out onto the shifting sands, and began their never-stopping journey to the great whirlpool that spun around a jagged abyss ¨C the yawning mouth of the ck Escarpment, where the Sandsea swirled endlessly into the depths of Deepcore.

 Delay

    <h4>Dy</h4>


    Daughter in the hospital means chapters are dyed.


    I''ll post as soon as able.


    Word Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word CountWord Count Word Count Word Count Word Count


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

 Book 3: Chapter 40: Dwarven Influencer

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 40: Dwarven Influencer</h4>


    It¡¯d been two weeks since we tried the first batch of gose, and with only one month left till the end of the quarter-finals, it was finally time.


    The ces were set. The kitchen was ready. The goat was pampered.


    ¡°Tha dang line is gettin¡¯ bigger!¡± Bando shrieked.


    ¡°What ¡®ave we done.¡± Johnsson whimpered.


    ¡°What do ya mean <i>we</i>, this was <i>your</i> grand n!¡± I shouted, adding my weight to the door.


    A dozen fists continued to beat a stato rhythm against it, and I was horribly d that we''d taken Sam¡¯s advice and gotten the doors and windows reinforced a few days ago.


    Johnsson, the coward, was hiding behind the bar. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it¡¯d be like this!¡±


    ¡°You know, considering what happened ¡®dest few times, we really should have suspected.¡± Richter mused from where he was bracing the door beside me.


    ¡°Calm down, this is a <i>good</i> sign!¡± Annie said, cheerfully. She was standing beside the waiter¡¯s kiosk with Aqua, holding some menus. ¡°This just means that the advertising worked! And since <i>you</i> were the one that taught us the concept, Pete, this is <i>indeed</i> entirely your fault.


    ¡°I can live with that.¡± Johnsson said.


    ¡°Oh, COME ON!¡±


    Aqua looked thoughtful. ¡°Does this mean that the rest of the contest is in the minecart? If it worked so well this time, can¡¯t we just do it again?¡±


    I pursed my lips. ¡°Ehhhh, I¡¯m not sure there¡¯ll <i>be</i> a next time. Johnsson yed a bit of silly buggers with that demonstration permit from City Hall. I expect we¡¯ll ¡®ave someonee by soon ta tell us not to do it again.¡±


    IT, being a now infamous stunt by Dwarf Draconis overtop the Grand Market, all set to a Copperpot designed lightshow to catch attention. The luchadorf had then stood atop Whistlemop¡¯s ostentatious cart to dere, ¡°Thirsty Goat¡¯s Kinshasa Brew gives you wings.¡± Then he¡¯d performed a mingriat into an explosive effigy of a Whistlemug.


    Heh. Okay, maybe it was a little bit my fault. But it was Johnsson¡¯s idea first!


    Still, I hadn¡¯t expected <i>this</i>!


    The line on our opening night had been pretty bad, but the street outside tonight was <i>packed</i>. We weren¡¯t going to be able to fit everyone in, and there was definitely going to be some fighting at the door. At least Bran andpany had been pre-preparing food all day, so we¡¯d be unlikely to run out of his horribly namedpetition entry.


    I wished Balin was here, butst we¡¯d heard from the Adventuring Guild they¡¯d been seen descending some bottomless hole called the ck Escarpment. That put them anywhere from a few days to a week from the next Teleportation Circle.


    I sent another silent little prayer for Barck to send some luck Balin¡¯s way, then checked the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time.


    ¡°Sixteen seconds!¡± I shouted. ¡°Kirk, get in tossin¡¯ position, any dwarf thates in swinging goes back out over everyone¡¯s head!


    ¡°Aye aye, bossman!¡±


    ¡°Ten!¡±


    ¡°Nine!¡±


    ¡°Eight!¡±


    ¡°Seven!¡±


    ¡°Six!¡±


    ¡°Five!¡±


    ¡°Four!¡±


    *Meeeehhh!!*


    ¡°Two!¡±


    ¡°ONE!¡±


    Richter threw the lock and the two of us jumped aside as the door burst open and the thirsty dwarves of Kinshasa barreled into the Thirsty Goat. The first three through the door came in swinging, and were promptly met by a different thirsty goat, and a giant with arge paycheque and good benefits.


    ¡ª


    The tavern was chaotic enough to make the God of Chaos Aaron blush. At least, it was until Darrel¡¯s elementals moved into position as air support. Any serious infractions got a double dose of high pressure water, and a toss out the door. Watching the sopping wet ne''er-do-wells go sailing into the street I was reminded that the first thing I¡¯d been told about the wispy little elementals was that they were <i>dangerous</i>. Considering that Aether elementals could also shoot <i>fire</i>, the implied threat was quite clear.


    Rather than Berry, we¡¯d acquired the services of some of Dwarf Draconis¡¯s ming bagpipe musicians for tonight¡¯s festivities. It seemed appropriate, and really drove home that he supported us. The bards were currently ying a wordless ditty that involved a lot of high pitched wailing on the pipes that were echoed back by various drunks in the crowd.


    I was currently on [Spot Clean] and busboy duty, and would be for the rest of the night. I gave a big grin and thumbs up to Annie as we met at the bar while heading back to the kitchen with dishes.


    ¡°Did you hear?¡± She asked, her eyes glittering.


    I nodded. ¡°Yes, I do, in fact, have ears! Used to, too!¡±


    ¡°Ugh. They <i>love </i>it!!! Not just the gose, but the new Goldstone Bitters too! Some are dering it the seconding of the Sacred Brew!¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the vition.


    ¡°Congrattions!¡± I went to give her a fist bump, but she swept me up in a hug instead, then spun me around like a princess in some bloody children¡¯s movie. ¡°Awp!¡±


    ¡°Thank you so much, Pete!¡± Annieughed. ¡°This is incredible!¡±


    ¡°Hey, let me down!¡± I struggled to get free, but her Strength was still higher than mine. ¡°Down!¡±


    ¡°I could hug you forever!!¡±


    ¡±Fine, you¡¯ve left me with no choice! OY EVERYONE! LISTEN UP!!!¡±


    Annie stopped swinging me about. ¡°No! Don¡¯t you dare!¡±


    I pulled free from her grasp and hopped onto the bar, grabbing a nearby mug as I did so. I held it aloft, and when I had enough eyes on me I shouted, ¡°FER CRACK AND ANNIE!¡±


    The room practically rocked. ¡°FER CRACK AND ANNIE!¡±


    Annie¡¯s angry retort was lost in the din. I gave her murderous re a twinkling smile in return, then jumped onto the packed crowd and surfed away while saluting.


    Yes indeed, it was a glorious night.


    The pong tables in the courtyard were surrounded by drunken fans, and we¡¯d even set up some chess boards for Tablero andrge log rounds for Axescggen. Between all the <i>not</i> Sacred Brew being drunk, the drinking games, and the delicious treats that were variously being eaten or turned into projectiles, the influence I¡¯d had on dwarven culture was now unmistakable.


    Pandora¡¯s box had been opened. Even if something happened to me tomorrow, Gods forbid, beer would never be the same. The culture around drinking had <i>changed</i>, and nothing the Master Brewers could do would be able to stop it.


    I surfed to the far edge of the crowd and dropped down to pick up some tes. Someone, or a few someones, had left some dirty tes, and I gave the mess a once-over with [Spot Clean] before gathering up the empty dishes and heading back to the kitchen.


    And then it happened.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Do you believe in magic?</i>


    <i>Gained [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]</i>


    <i>*Bing!*</i>


    <strong>New Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 8/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>The dwarves need your help. Influence 2,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i></i>


    <i>Dwarves Influenced: 156/2,000,000</i>


    <i>Rewards: 1 x Deific Revtion</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes. I¡¯d been waiting so long for that bloody quest that it felt unreal to finally see itplete. I barely even registered hitting ¡®yes¡¯ as I popped open my status, my breath catching in my throat. Did I¡­


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong>


    <strong><i>Name:</i></strong><i> Peter Roughtuff</i>


    <strong><i>Age:</i></strong><i> 51 </i>


    <strong><i>Conditions:</i></strong><i> None</i>


    <strong><i>Race:</i></strong><i> Dwarf</i>


    <strong><i>Blessings</i></strong><i>: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]</i>


    <strong><i>Title:</i></strong><i> [Otherworldly Brewer]</i>


    <strong><i>Milestones:</i></strong><i> [Power Pick], [Basic sh], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Extended Bottomless Barrel], [Thick Skin], [Friend: Gnomes], [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Check Quality], [Long Stride], [Infuse Mana], [Spot Clean], [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight], [Rapid Aging]</i>


    <strong><i>Strength:</i></strong><i> 17.8</i>


    <strong><i>Vitality:</i></strong><i> 21</i>


    <strong><i>Agility: </i></strong><i>14.2</i>


    <strong><i>Dexterity:</i></strong><i> 14.4</i>


    <strong><i>Wisdom: </i></strong><i>15.4</i>


    <strong><i>Intelligence:</i></strong><i> 17.4</i>


    <strong><i>Perception: </i></strong><i>18.4</i>


    <strong><i>Charisma: </i></strong><i>19</i>


    I did.


    I had [Manasight].


    Or at least some [Poor] facsimile of it.


    It was what I¡¯d wanted most since arriving in this world. Ever since I¡¯d first watched adventurers take down a mushfolk from afar with bursts of light, and smelled whatserame barbequing an entire army of ants by herself. I¡¯d been pining after it for nearly three years, and now I finally had it!!!


    I popped the Ability open and read it over.


    <strong>[Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight]</strong> -<i> You gain the ability to see the mana flow in yourself as well as anything else within 1 metre. This Ability is always avable and can be turned on and off at will.</i>


    With a trembling heart, I whispered, ¡°[Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight],¡± and looked around.


    The world¡­ didn¡¯t look any different. It was still just a raucous room of rowdy revelers. I bnced the dishes on an arm and nced at my hand; it looked the same as usual too ¨C thick and calloused and overly hairy.


    At least, it did until I focused. It was almost like cleaning off a windshield; an entire new world suddenly popped into view. My skin glowed with an inner, unerdly light. I couldn¡¯t help but hold my hand up and flex the fingers, staring at it in fascination. My Mana was the colour of freshly mowed grass, bright and clear.


    I nced down at the tes. They had a murky and more solid feel to their Mana, like it was set in ce and didn¡¯t want to move. Then I spun to look in fascination at the air around me, which was now a sphere of swirling white and blue.


    The room and din fell away as I marveled at the sight.


    ¡°Pete, if you¡¯re drunk I¡¯m going to put a stray cat in your bunk tonight.¡± Aqua was suddenly at my side, shouting to be heard over the din, and I jumped.


    ¡°Oh, uh.¡± I looked back at my hand, but the glow was gone. ¡°Sorry. I know what it looks like, but I haven¡¯t been drinking. My quest justpleted.¡±


    Aqua¡¯s eyes grew wide. ¡°You mean the ¨C ¡°


    I nodded.


    ¡°You have ¨C !?¡±


    My lower lip trembled and I raised a joyful fist. ¡°I can do <i>magic</i>!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions! Then what are you still doing here!?¡± Aqua said, thumping me on the chestte.


    I blinked. ¡°What??¡±


    ¡°Go and test it out! I know you¡¯ve been learning a sigil with Richter! Go see what you can do!¡±


    ¡°Are ¨C are you sure??¡± I asked, looking around the madhouse. There was still a line out the door, so this was probably going tost until the wee hours of the morning. We¡¯d keep it going as long as possible since this opening night would be our best bet for getting lots of votes for the contest.


    ¡°We can handle it.¡± Aqua said, with more confidence than she probably felt. ¡°Worst case scenario I¡¯ll go and yank Whistlemop out of bed, and Rosie can always step away from running the inn for a while if we need her. Go!¡± She snapped a cleaning towel at me.


    My face flushed, and I handed her my own apron and towel. ¡°Thanks Aqua, I won''t forget this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better not!¡± She shouted after me as I dashed to the brewroom.


    I.


    Had.


    MAGIC!


    HELL YEAH!!!

 Book 3: Chapter 41: Magic is Hard

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 41: Magic is Hard</h4>


    As soon as I made it into the brewroom, I grabbed a mug from the office and poured myself a ss of barista brew. I specifically wanted a stout for this, but our local porter would do. I activated my [Manasight] again, and peered into the depths of the mug. The Mana of the brew was mostly white, with hints of blue and yellow. ording to ¡®Professor¡¯ Richter, that indicated the presence of gaseous Aethers and liquid Aethers, as well as some minute solids.


    The elements in Erd were different from back home. There was no periodic table, and certainly no fantasy concepts like Earth, Fire, Wind, Water. Instead, there were the fundamentals, which were split into the Fundamental Elements: Aether, Matter, Nether, and Mana, and the Fundamentals of Life: Chaos, Law, Spirit, and Spark.


    Mana was a building block that defined how the other Fundamentals acted. So, for example, Nether that was infused with Gravity Mana pulled things towards it. Our bottling system used Void Mana aspected Nether. Fire was Aether infused with Fire Mana. Light was Chaos Mana in Aether. So on and so forth.


    To perform magic, you took Mana from your own body, and using a standardized form of Sigils, or in Berry¡¯s case, music, changed it to a different kind of Mana. Then you pushed the modified Mana into a surrounding Fundamental, changing its form to match the new Mana.


    For example, a person who focused on fire spells might take their personal Mana, change it into fire Mana, then push it into the Aether of the air around them. Fire mana in Aether made pure me, resulting in a jet of fire. If they instead infused it into the ground, they¡¯d get something more akin tova. There were limits of course, with some Mana types repelling others, and the Mana of other sentient beings being nearly impossible to affect.


    Each use case required a different Sigil with modifications for everything from distance to how you wanted the new Mana to act. As a result, learning how to do anything beyond one or two spells was <i>hard</i>, especially since you were usually forced to learn the sigils without the [Manasight] necessary to do the magic in the first ce. Students at Archis Academy studied for years to gain Archis¡¯s approval and the Blessing necessary to see Mana.


    I reached into my desk and pulled out a simple beginner wand that looked like a pen with a ruby on it. I¡¯d been working on a specific Sigil with Richter for the past few months, drawing it on the table and then in the air with nothing to work with beyond my wand. It¡¯d been hard, and often boring work, but it was now paying off.


    I nced down at my hand with [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight] again. Bright green rivers flowed up my arm,zily tracing paths beneath the skin. The confluence of all those rivers was my heart, making it the best ce to pull Mana from. Not too much, of course! I wouldn¡¯t want to remove so much Mana that I wasn¡¯t me anymore. I ced the ruby on my chest, and with a deft twist, caught a wisp of Mana and pulled.


    Then immediately dropped the wand, swearing. ¡°Ow! ggin¡¯ elfin¡¯ friggin¡¯ fraggle¡¯ rock¡¯n sunnuva-nannygoat!¡±


    It was¡­ an interesting sensation. Kind of like touching a van de graaf generator, or rubbing my socks on a shag carpet ¨C a tingly feeling that reached down into my very soul. I shuddered as I ced the ruby to my chest again, this time prepared for the sensation. I slowly moved the wand away from my heart, pulling the green Mana out in front of me. The line of green traced my motions perfectly, leaving glowing lines hanging in the air, and I simply watched it for a while, marveling. I switched off [Manasight] and the bright lines disappeared, only to reappear when I switched it back on.


    I restarted once more, and began tracing my first proper Sigil. As I added more and more Mana to the Sigil, the light grew brighter and brighter, until I could see it even without my [Manasight].


    With joy in my heart, I pushed the Mana into the ss of beer beside me.


    Aaaaand, nothing happened. I¡¯d screwed up the sigil.


    I swore and tried again.


    And again.


    And again.


    I began to feel lethargic, and with herculean effort, forced myself to stop. Using up the body¡¯s Mana could be deadly, and Richter¡¯s instructions were quite clear ¨C stop when you feel tired.


    As I sat in the office waiting for my Mana to regenerate, I popped open my status again. I had a <i>lot</i> of Milestones. You only needed 5 to Specialise and I had¡­ significantly more than that.


    Barck had told me to Specialise using [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight], and now seemed as good a time as any. I chose five brewing rted Milestones and then took a moment to consider my selections.


    <strong><i>Specialisation Possible!</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i> Please select 5 Milestones tobine into a Specialisation!</i>


    <i>You have selected [Check Quality], [Infuse Mana], [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight], [Rapid Aging], and [Extended Bottomless Barrel].</i>


    <strong><i>Merge Milestones?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i> Yes/No</i>


    I had a rtively clear idea for where I wanted this Specialization to go, so I didn¡¯t put [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] into the mix. I was hoping for a magic focused Specialization, and I didn¡¯t want to chance giving up on something good because it got rid of [Remembrance]. I was doing my best to power-level that Ability, and hopefully it would soon let me summon bigger or better stuff from my memories.


    The first time I¡¯d Titled, Specialised, and gotten an Ability choice, I¡¯d waffled over it for hours. Later, Balin had told me that most Titled immediately knew what they wanted and went for it. In general, by the time you reached that point you were experienced enough to be sure of your ce in life. That was <i>how</i> you became Titled in the first ce, and it was <i>doubly</i> true for Specialised individuals.


    Now that I had a better idea of how life on Erd worked, and more confidence in myself, this should be easier than thest time.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    I held my breath and hit ¡®yes¡¯!


    <strong><i>Specialisation Gained</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>You have decided to Specialise! Specialisation is an important decision that will guide your future growth. Your selected Milestones willbine to give you powerful new Blessings that will help you down your chosen path. Choose wisely, for what you choose wille to define you.</i>


    <i>The following four Specialisations are avable to you.</i>


    <i>Otherworldly Elchemist</i><i></i>


    <i>Chalice Keeper</i><i></i>


    <i> Otherworldly Arcane Crafter</i><i></i>


    <i>Otherworldly Glutton</i>


    <strong><i>Possible Specialisation: [Otherworldly Elchemist]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Combine [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight] and [Infuse Mana] into the Blessing [Transfer Mana].</i><i></i>


    <i> Combine [Check Quality] and [Rapid Aging] into the Blessing [Elemental Extraction].</i><i></i>


    <i> The Milestone [Extended Bottomless Barrel] is not affected.</i>


    <i>As a [Brewer] you have always sought ways to add and remove different elements from your brews. With your new ability to see Mana, you seek to manipte your brews further, and bing an [Elchemist] will aid you in that pursuit. </i>


    <strong><i>[Transfer Mana]</i></strong><strong><i> ¨C </i></strong><i>You gain the ability to see the mana flow in yourself as well as anything else within 1 metre.</i>


    <i>You can use Mana outside of your body to power spells. You cannot change the type of outside Mana as you use it.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable and can be turned on and off at will.</i>


    <strong><i>[Elemental Extraction]</i></strong><i> ¨C </i><i>You can extract an Element of your choice along with the Mana inside it from a non-living item you are touching. The resulting Element is ced within 1 meter of you. You can affect no more than 1 cubic meter of material at a time.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once per hour.</i>


    <strong><i>Possible Specialisation: [Chalice Keeper]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Combine [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight] and [Extended Bottomless Barrel] into the Blessing [Manawell].</i><i></i>


    <i> Combine [Infuse Mana] and [Rapid Aging] into the Blessing [Lifewell].</i><i></i>


    <i> The Milestone [Check Quality] is not affected.</i>


    <i>You have a long road ahead of you as a [Brewer], and you know it. There¡¯s so much to do. If only you had more time, more mana, more everything. But, as you hold forth your cup to toast your fellows, so do the Gods reach out their Chalice to you. As a [Chalice Keeper] you choose to drink deeply from that ever-flowing font and are duly rewarded. </i>


    <i>May you live long, young dwarf, and prosper.</i>


    <strong><i>[Manawell] ¨C</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><i>You gain the ability to see the mana flow in yourself as well as anything else within 1 metre. This Ability is always avable and can be turned on and off at will. </i>


    <i>Your own personal Mana is greatly increased.</i>


    <strong><i>[Lifewell]</i></strong><i> ¨C </i><i>Your lifespan is greatly increased.</i>


    <strong><i>Possible Specialisation: [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Combine [Infuse Mana] and [Extended Bottomless Barrel] into the Blessing [Lesser Mana Crafting].</i><i></i>


    <i> Combine [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight] and [Check Quality] into the Blessing [Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye].</i><i></i>


    <i> The Milestone [Rapid Aging] is not affected.</i>


    <i>As a [Brewer] you always sought ways to improve yourself and your brew. You have a good eye for the craft, and as an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter] you can use Mana to improve your crafting capabilities withparable ease. </i>


    <strong><i>[Lesser Mana Crafting]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><strong><i>¨C</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><i>You can infuse and manipte Mana within your crafted items directly, without the need for a medium. Additionally, you can infuse your Mana into Enchantments.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    <strong><i>[Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye] ¨C </i></strong><i>You gain the ability to see the mana flow in yourself as well as anything else within 1 meter. Within the same range, you can instantly spot any ws or weaknesses in any materials you are using or items you have crafted.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable and can be turned on and off at will. </i>


    <strong><i>Possible Specialisation: [Otherworldly Glutton]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Combine [Extended Bottomless Barrel] and [Rapid Aging] into the Blessing [Endless Barrel].</i><i></i>


    <i> Combine [Check Quality] and [Infuse Mana] into the Blessing [Arcane Feast].</i><i></i>


    <i> The Milestone [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight] is not affected.</i>


    <i>As a [Brewer] you were drivenrgely by your own love of food and drink. What would it be like to have an endless supply of your favourite treats? As an [Otherworldly Glutton] you are able to feast upon your favourites as much as you desire. </i>


    <strong><i>[Endless Barrel]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><strong><i>¨C</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><i>You can touch a container that contains no more than forty-eight litres of non-magical liquid and grant it a touch of infinity. From now on, any drink you pour out of it does not reduce the liquid level. If the liquid is not poured into an appropriate container or imbibed within twenty-four minutes, it disappears.</i>


    <i>Each time you use this Ability any previous uses end.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once per hour. </i>


    <strong><i>[Arcane Feast]</i></strong><i> ¨C </i><i>You can extract an Element of your choice along with the Mana inside it from a non-living item you are touching.</i>


    <i>This Ability can be used once per hour.</i>


    Score! I¡¯d been hoping for an Arcane Crafting Specialisation like Copperpot had, and there were a couple options that fit the bill. That should¡¯ve made this an easy choice.


    But, I was tempted.


    I had about five or six hundred more years left to live as a dwarf, which was a lot, but who wouldn''t want to live longer? Maybe [Chalice Keeper] was how that evil, wine-hogging, elven vintner had lived so long. And if I Specialised further in [Chalice Keeper], would I eventually live forever?


    And more importantly¡­ did I want to?

 Book 3: Chapter 42: Nitro

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 42: Nitro</h4>


    The more I thought about it¡­.


    The more I didn¡¯t want to live forever.


    Reincarnating in Erd had been a traumatizing experience ¨C the feeling of being ripped away from my loved ones and limatizing to a new world was one I never wanted to feel again.


    Yes, I had new friends and family <i>now</i>, but I couldn¡¯t imagine what it would be like to do that again. And again. And <i>again.</i>


    There was a reason popr culture back home often turned living forever into a curse.


    [Otherworldly Elchemist] seemed interesting, but it just didn''t quite mesh with what I <i>wanted</i>. Which was more magic. And given that early Specialisations impacted future choices, there was only really one choice for me.


    Farewell, [Bottomless Barrel]! You were my favourite, and you saved my bacon more than once, but in the long term, I don¡¯t really <i>need</i> you.


    *Bing*


    <strong>Specialised!</strong>


    <i>You have be an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter]!</i>


    Done, and done. Let¡¯s test these new Abilities out!


    ¡°[Crafter¡¯s Eye]!¡±


    I had the Ability on for a bare second before holding back a scream and turning it off. I slumped back into my chair and groaned.


    The world of Mana had been a fascinating experience of bright flowing colours and glowing etherealndscapes. It was a joy to look at and would probably remain so forever. The world of ws was a horror for any serious crafter.


    The brew I¡¯d been holding, the brew I¡¯d poured my heart into, was a bright red that indicated it was wed.


    A quick run around the brewroom confirmed it. Everything had ws. <i>Everything!</i>


    The brews in the tanks were bright red.


    The various arcano-mechanical pieces we had around the Brewroom had bright red spots all over them.


    Even the little makeshift goat-bed I¡¯d helped Balin make for Penelope had a few spots of red!


    It was a <i>nightmare</i>. It was <i>all wrong</i>.


    And the worst part was, I really did already know it. Crafter¡¯s Eye just instantly brought into focus problems that I was capable of finding on my own. All the tech in here was pdash ¨C first generation machines meant to fulfill the job of something that didn¡¯t exist in this world. And all the brews were, deep in my heart, imperfect.


    It really went to show that as much as we¡¯d improved, there was still so much more we could do.


    I turned [Crafter¡¯s Eye] back on, then tried to adjust my vision. With some practice, I found that I could turn specific types of ws on and off. I could focus on material ws, or process ws, and even my own ideas of what ws were. For example, with my personal concept of ws turned off, our brews were practically <i>pristine</i>. I peered into the mug of barista brew, glowing a pure yellow from the Mana within and nary a <i>speck </i>of red to be seen, and smiled.


    Finally, I walked over to some of the bags of malted erdroot against the wall, and some bright red spots indicating bad malt popped up like stop lights. I made note of the bags to deal withter.


    Yes, this new Specialisation was very me.


    Time to test out the other new Ability.


    I wasn¡¯t quite as sure what it meant, though I had some ideas.


    <strong><i>[Lesser Mana Crafting]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><strong><i>¨C</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong><i>You can infuse and manipte Mana within your crafted items directly, without the need for a medium. Additionally, you can infuse your Mana into Enchantments.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable.</i>


    More than half the battle in learning Sigils was getting the Mana to properly infuse into the new Fundamental. Changing my own personal Mana was fairly simple, but properly transferring it and manipting the Mana outside of the body was trickier.


    This Ability seemed to bypass or simplify that step.


    I activated the wand again, drawing green Mana from my body. This time, I focused on the part of the Sigil that changed my own Mana into its new form. The sigil for that was quite simple: a basic circle and some criss-crossing lines. It was the work of moments to leave a glowing green series of lines hanging in the air.


    Next, I brought the Sigil up to the mug, focusing on both it and the drink. With [Crafter¡¯s Sight] on, I could clearly see the Mana flow within the beer ¨C a murky yellow with bits of blue.


    ¡°[Lesser Mana Crafting].¡± I muttered.


    And suddenly, it was so obvious. With a thought, I pulled the Mana from my Sigil into the beer and reced some of the Mana within. The disced Mana flowed out of the beer like blue bubbles that would be invisible to anyone without [Manasight]. As I worked, I could see little pockets of red where my Mana hadn¡¯t done its magic yet, and I focused on making those red spots disappear by sending them Mana from the Sigil. Out! Out damn spots!


    Soon, there wasn¡¯t any red left, so I turned off [Crafter¡¯s Sight] and stared at the mug. It didn¡¯t really look <i>too </i>different, though there were some subtle changes if you knew what to look for. The foam was just a little whiter, with smaller, less distinct bubbles that gave it the appearance of cream. I gave it a whiff, and it smelled a little less like burnt coffee, with a more muted aroma.


    I took a small sip, then a full gulp, swishing the beer around in my mouth as I did so. It was thicker than our usual Barista Brew, with some of the bitter bite I¡¯d grown reluctantly used to stripped away.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I smiled.


    Yes, the Abilities worked in tandem, just as I¡¯d hoped. With this I''d be able to learn and perform magic at least twice as fast with no chance of error.


    And I¡¯d just created the most important beer in the world. A beer that I¡¯d be able to easily pitch to any dwarven Master Brewer, no matter how recalcitrant, as apletely separate beast from Sacred Brew.


    I¡¯d hit the Nitro, and brewing in Erd was about to go into overdrive!


    I spent the next little while having some more fun with my Specialization, then yed with the idea of jumping straight into Specialising again. I technically had enough Milestones sitting around that I could consider it.


    However, all I had were junky,mon Abilities that were irrelevant to my crafting. Any Specialisation I got out of them would be garden variety at best, and purebat at worst. No, I needed to get some more magic based Abilities first.


    With the mug of beer as proof of concept, I went to see if I could change an entire tank. It only took a single attempt before I realized that my Mana pool was insufficient. It would take a lot more practice before I had enough to do big jobs like that. Mana was like a muscle; the more you used it, the more it grew.


    And I¡¯d been skipping leg day for years.


    I tested pumping Mana into the enchantments running our brewing equipment in passing, and it worked just fine. The saving in monster cores would be significant in the long term, and it would make for good daily Mana exercise.


    Overall, it looked like all my preparations for getting magic had paid off! Heck, some of my prep had turned out unnecessary thanks to [Lesser Mana Crafting]!


    Of course, I now had a long list of stuff to add to my to-do. I pulled out my personal calendar and began filling in nk dates.


    Now that I didn¡¯t need to spend as much time learning Sigils for crafting, I needed to dedicate some time to learning a basic fireball spell. Just in case we ever ran into Stail Wombats or assassins again.


    Speaking of which, I really needed a fancy piece of magical protective equipment as well, like Copperpot¡¯s beanie. Since I now had the ability to charge enchantments myself, one of the biggest ws of magical equipment was removed.


    I needed to check with Whistlemop if there was any magic I could do for limited edition Whistlemugs, like glowing ss or something.


    So much to do, so much to do.


    First, though, it was back out into the massive grumble that was the Goat. Walking in from the quiet sanctity of the brewroom, it was like being hit by a solid wall of noise.


    Aqua waved at me as I entered and mouthed, ¡°how was it?¡±


    I gave her two thumbs up and she smiled brilliantly.


    And then I was once again knee deep in dirty dishes and drunken dwarves.


    ¡ª


    We stayed opente; it would¡¯ve been foolish to close under the circumstances. Things stayed boisterous and electric, though energy waned as the night went on. By the time four-in-the-morning rolled around, half the clientele was asleep under the benches and tables, and the other half were piled unconscious in the courtyard.


    Most of the crew had retired to the brewroom office to discuss the night and decamp. Darrel and Bran were still hard at work cleaning the kitchen, while Bando foraged in the bodies for dirty dishes while swearing under his breath.


    We were all bleary eyed and ready for sleep, but there was a small, brownplication sitting on the table in the office.


    ¡°Can you run it by me one more time.¡± Annie said, bags under her eyes. ¡°So I can go to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I need a nap. I¡¯m not looking forward to sweeping ¡®dat lot out of ¡®de courtyard first thing in ¡®de morning.¡± Richter agreed.


    ¡°Pete, we¡¯re all happy for you, but can''t this wait forter.¡± Aqua whined.


    ¡°No, you should drink it while it¡¯s fresh.¡± I said, waving at the mug on the table. I¡¯d quickly prepared it before we started this little meeting.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Annie said.


    ¡°It¡¯s nitrogen beer.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°I reced all the carbon dioxide in it with nitrogen.¡±


    Annie sighed. ¡°Okay, but <i>why</i>.¡±


    I gestured at the mug again. ¡°You¡¯ll need to taste it to know why.¡±


    Everyone stared at the mug with nk eyes, until Johnsson finally moved to take it. ¡°Whatever, tha sooner I drink it, the sooner we can all go to sleep.¡±


    He downed the mug in a series of chugs, and I mentally apuded. He¡¯d clearly been practicing hispetitive drinking.


    When he was done, he put the mug down with a look of consternation on his face. ¡°It¡­ doesn¡¯t taste like beer? But it does?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Yes!¡± I shouted, pumping my fist.


    ¡°It¡¯s not beer?¡± Aqua asked, peering into the ss suspiciously.


    Johnsson hummed and hawed. ¡°Mmm¡­ best way to describe it would be like beer¡¯n¡­ I dunno. Cream? Nah, that¡¯s not right. Dunno, never tasted anything like it. I like it!¡±


    Everyone turned to look at me, and Annie gave a nod. ¡°Alright, you have one minute to tell us what it is and why it¡¯s special before we pass out. Go.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Like I said, It¡¯s beer with the carbon dioxide reced with nitrogen. Seventy/Thirty nitro to carbon dioxide to be precise. You know how the fermentation process creates carbon dioxide bubbles, and that¡¯s what makes the fizz, right?¡±


    ¡°Ayyyye,¡± everyone droned.


    ¡°Well, I used <i>MAGIC!!!</i>¡± I punctuated this by making finger wiggles. ¡°To change tha carbon dioxide into nitrogen. It¡¯s possibly the world¡¯s <i>first magical beer!!!</i>¡±


    I waited for cheers but was merely met with some tired pping.


    ¡°<i>This</i> is what you and Richter spent the past half year working on??¡± Aqua choked. ¡°A spell to make bubbles!?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    She broke intoughter, slumping back into her chair. ¡°Ahaha! It¡¯s so you!¡±


    ¡°You got it on your first try? I¡¯m impressed.¡± Richter said with arched eyebrows.


    I shrugged. ¡°Eh, not quite. I got an Ability that helped me cheat a bit when I Specialised.¡±


    ¡°Oh, what¡¯d you get?¡± Aqua sat up, suddenly interested.


    ¡°Later.¡± Annie groaned. ¡°Continue, Pete.¡±


    ¡°Well, Nitrogen changes the smell, vour profile, and even the texture of beer. If you take the exact same beer and change it to nitrogen instead of carbon dioxide, you¡¯ll get apletely different vour.¡±


    Back on Earth, the most famous nitro beer was Guinness stout, which had quite literally invented the process. Nitro beers were a fairly recent creation from the 1950s when a mathematician by the name of Michael Ash created a nitrogenating system to solve a problem with cask pouring Guinness. His invention added the creamy texture of nitrogen that soon became synonymous with the beloved Irish stout.


    Then, in 1988, Guinness invented the rocket widget, a stic cap that essentially recreated Ash¡¯s process in a can, and the now-famous tall-can of Guinness was born.


    And the world rejoiced!


    Sometimes literally. The modern ball widget found in every can of Guinness was voted the invention of the year in 1994 for the UK Queen¡¯s Award for Technological Achievement.


    I personally <i>loved</i> the taste of nitrogenated beer, though it had a few quirks. Nitrogen had a poor solubility, which made it hard to keep properly infused into a beer. That was why Michael Ash had so much trouble getting it to work, and why modern nitro beers had widgets in them in the first ce. However, infusing nitrogen with magic seemed to bypass the problem <i>entirely</i>, acting more like modern liquid nitrogen techniques.


    ¡°The important thing is, we may be able to pitch nitrogen beer to the Brewer¡¯s Guild as a different thing from ¡®Sacred Brew¡¯ entirely. It¡¯s still <i>beer</i>, but it¡¯s so different that it may as well be apletely different drink.¡±


    Annie sat up straighter. ¡°And if they approve of that¡­¡±


    ¡°They may be more receptive to other changes in the future!¡± Aqua finished, catching on immediately.


    Annie pped her hands together, startling all of us. ¡°Good! I like it, Pete. We¡¯ll talk more in the morning. Now, BED!¡±


    I grinned ear to ear as we trooped off to bed. My initial foray into magical brewing had gone <i>perfectly</i>. And there were so many other things I could still try! I could hardly wait!


    But first, sleeeeeeeep.

 Break Day

    <h4>Break Day</h4>


    Hey everyone,


    I''m out with Bacterial Bronchitis. It''s been whamming me hard, and I''m way behind in all my writing. Kinda just tired and hard to concetrate with low oxygen levels. I started an antibacterial course today, so I should be back up by next week. Regr chapter will go out on Saturday!


    We''re entering the downward stretch! I''ve got around 80 chapters or so nned for book 3, then we are on to book 4 and the finale!


    Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count? Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?Why can''t I just make announcements without a word count?


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

 Book 3: Chapter 43: The Third Month of the Year 8000

    <strong>From The Diary of Peter Roughtuff:</strong>


    <strong>1st Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Our Wildest Dreams</strong>


    We were almost as busy today as we were on release day. I think we underestimated the patriotic fervour that Kinshasa Brew would engender. We spent all morning and afternoon making as much of it as we could, so hopefully we won¡¯t run out. Ironically, [Rapid Aging] is going to save our butts here.


    But not mine; my butt remains unsaved. I have to spend nearly every waking minute in the brewroom using Abilities.


    I haven¡¯t even had time to learn any new spells yet!


    <strong>3rd Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Luck Be a Lady</strong>


    Lucky Jean¡¯s released their brew for the contest today. It¡¯s simr to their Lucky Brew, except it increases a drinker''s chance of finding gems while mining. That sounds like a total cheat, and if it works as advertised, it may blow our brew out of the water.


    We have to hope that our unique taste and advertising method is enough to get the votes.


    <strong>5th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Nationalism, Shmatoinalism</strong>


    To anyone reading this journal in the future, patriotism is a double edged sword. We had a few dwarves start up a ruckus today over the fact that ¡®foreign dwarves¡¯ had the audacity to release a ¡®Kinshasa Brew¡¯. They were loudly drowned out, mostly with fists and feet, but it definitely gave Annie and I pause. We technically aren¡¯t<em>foreign</em>, since Minnova is part of the Kingdom of Crack, but I could see where they wereing from.


    Disagree with it, and condemn their actions, but see where they wereing from.


    It reminds me of the weird dad energy around youth sports. I get that your kid is a burgeoning Wayne Gretzky, but get your ass off the ice and stop yelling at the teenage ref. You¡¯re supposed to be an adult.


    Hopefully it doesn¡¯t be a bigger problem.Ignore that. I didn¡¯t write it and you never saw it.


    <strong>7th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Pucker Cup, Sweetheart</strong>


    Kinshasa Brew is a hit amongst the working set, especially the mining crews and Whitehall adventurers. You¡¯d think that being around salt all day would make them sick of it, but instead they seem to have an affinity with the stuff. A few even asked for<em>more salt</em>to add to their beer! Madness! I categorically refused to ruin my beer with more salt. What was next? Ketchup!?


    Instead, I grabbed one of the infinite number of lemons we keep around the building and introduced them to salted rims.


    Addendum: reading that without context sounds dirty as a coalmine, so I¡¯ve added some instructions.


    <strong>Salted Rims</strong>


    Ingredients:


    Lemons


    Salt


    <ol>


    <li>Cut a slice of lemon.</li>


    <li>Run the slice around the lip of a ss or mug, soaking the edge in lemon juice.</li>


    <li>Pour a generous amount of salt into a te.</li>


    <li>Rub the rim of the mug in the salt with a twisting motion. The salt should stick to the lemony edge of the ss.</li>


    <li>Enjoy your lemony ss. Get some salt into a cut on your lips and scream for a bit.</li>


    </ol>


    <strong>10th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Hop To My Loo</strong>


    I went back to the Human Market and found my erstwhile hops seller! He brought<em>more hops</em>, including several new variations. He exined that one of his [Merchant] Abilities told him that I had a valuable use for them, and he was happy to be my primary supplier. I brought Whistlemop along, and he bargained us a decent price for a purchasing agreement if we decided to go that route.


    I set the flowers to drying, and as soon as things die down I''m going to test them in some brews!


    There¡¯s one more aromatic hop, and a few bittering styles. I can¡¯t wait.


    <strong>12th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: A Royal Pain</strong>


    We found what Riverside Brewery did for their most valuable beer, and it really drove home the power of home advantage in dwarven society.


    Their contest brew was called ¡®Royale¡¯, and it was impossible to buy.


    <em>Literally impossible</em>. It wasn¡¯t avable in kegs, it wasn¡¯t avable in their brewpub, it<em>could not be bought</em>.


    How will they possibly win the contest then? Who votes for a beer they cannot buy? Good question, dear future reader!


    I asked our regrs who they were going to vote for, and while they were<em>of course</em>voting for us in our bracket, to the dwarf they were all voting for Riverside.


    Because only<em>one dwarf</em>had ever drunk Royale, and ever<em>would</em>drink Royale. The King himself, who¡¯d dered it his new favourite beer.


    And what could possibly be more valuable than a beer only<em>the King</em>could drink?


    <em>How in Aaron¡¯s Hairy Arse</em>, were we supposed topete with that? I¡¯ve since added ¡®don¡¯t let uspete against Riverside Brewery until the finals¡¯ to my nightly prayers.


    <strong>14th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: The Prodigal Beard Returns</strong>


    Balin came back today! He came with materials, all of them useless, and stories, all of them fascinating. It¡¯s hard to believe, but<em>Deep</em>core is<em>deep</em>! He told us tales of falling for kilometers into a dark forest of stgmites, where angler-eel-like monsters swam through air thick with watery Mana. Of a brightly lit sea of sand, where waves crashed with the crushing force of a thousand tons of erd, and Shalesharks swam right below the surface. And of white salt beaches, where delicious crab things skittered through the stone.


    In case you haven¡¯t noticed, dear reader, Deepcore has a rockfish fetish.


    We¡¯re just happy to have him back.


    It wasn¡¯t all good news. Aishablue had an arm dissolved off by a sponge-like slime monster called a Sploonge. Balin says she¡¯s looking on the<em>brighter side of things</em>because she¡¯s going to get a wand installed in a prosthetic golem arm to help her cast<em>light spells</em>.


    I¡¯m not sure if I should be horrified or proud of him.


    They¡¯ll be here for a month getting Aishablue used to her new prothetic before heading into fight a boss monster called a Breachcarp.


    <strong>15th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Oh, Rapid Aging, I Can''t Believe I Ever Doubted You</strong>


    The rush of clients finally died down a little now that Kinshasa Brew has been out for a while. Does that mean we have time to rest? No. Local bars have started to specifically request as much Kinshasa Brew as we can provide. At least my Mana pool is blooming nicely with how much I have to recharge the Nether bottler.


    On top of all that, we have a surprising number of gnomesing to the pub these days. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s because of the Kinshasa Brew in particr, or just a side effect of Copperpot poprizing beer amongst his people. Either way, we need<em>more beer</em>.


    I sent the recipe for the gose to Copperpot, but Annie refused to reveal the exact ingredients for the Goldstone Bitters, sending him mystery mulch instead. She¡¯s still keeping the exact ingredients to herself. ying dumb! Taunting me with it!


    Future reader, if you¡¯re familiar with Annie Goldstone, just know that she¡¯s a vile, evil dwarf. Obstinate and unfeeling. A blight upon the happy and honest world of brewers.


    <strong>18th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: The Sam Came Back</strong>


    Sam came by and let us know that he¡¯d vouched for us to Harmsson. We were more than wee to go to any rallies in the future as ourselves. As if I¡¯d ever go near that powderkeg again!


    I asked him to keep an eye out for anybody rapidly gaining Blessings, and he told me that was literally<em>everybody</em>in the Charter movement.


    Great. So,<em>was</em>Harmsson the Chosen? Or one of his right hand dwarves? Jean Herder¡¯s warning about political Chosen had me itching to pack up and leave Kinshasa altogether. Only you, dear future reader of this diary, with the power of hindsight, will be able to properly judge my decision to stay.


    <strong>22nd Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Episode 4, A New Hop</strong>


    I tested the different kinds of hops in the now traditional tea format. The aromatic hops was reminiscent of the noble hop tettnang, while the bittering hops were all somewhat unique except for one.


    That one is nearly identical to Kent Golding! The traditional hop of Irish Stouts is now within my grasp!


    <strong>24th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Dungeon Break</strong>


    There was a Dungeon Break this morning. Three Shalesharks crashed out of the dungeon and rampaged around Yellowwall. The adventurers, Balin among them, banded together and took them out, but not before they did serious damage to a fairlyrge swath of the district. The city hung the corpses from Scout¡¯s Crossing over Darkwater Gorge, and I went to go see them.


    Shark was a bit of a misnomer. Yes, they had dorsal fins, and yes they had the torpedo-like body, but the four wed stubby legs looked more crocodilian than anything else. Their ¡®skin¡¯ was ovepping sheets of grey stone. Their mouths were circr blenders, with tentacles ringing them to shove stuff in. Their teeth doubled as their primary form of digging, and were sharp as shale.


    One look was enough to give me nightmares for life. I can¡¯t even imagine what it would be like to live in constant fear of things like thating and eating me in my sleep. And Balin¡¯s vige had been destroyed by a<em>stampede</em>of monsters like that.


    <strong>25th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Helping Hand</strong>


    I went with Bando to another volunteer rally, this time for much needed repairs to Yellowwall following the Dungeon Break. I¡¯d sworn to stay away from Harmssson, but under the circumstances I really couldn¡¯t justify not going. In fact, everyone was going, including most of our patrons. With our cover blown, and Sam¡¯s assurances that we weren¡¯t going to get in trouble with Harmsson, we just went as ourselves.


    This time the city sent work crews as well, and I was happy to see that Yellowwall wasn¡¯t<empletely</em>abandoned. Harmsson gave another speech, butid off the anti-nobility rhetoric this time.


    Then we went to work.


    Dear reader, I learned something new about Shalesharks! They excrete a slimy mucus to help theirrge frames slip through the sand and stone of their dungeon home. That mucus is left behind, and takes weeks to dry. I was very quickly put in charge of using [Spot Clean] to remove patches of slime while others did repairs.


    I don¡¯t regret my choice to help.


    But I regret it a lot.


    Bando¡¯s friends were understanding of our earlier subterfuge, even if they didn¡¯t appreciate it. Either way, we didn¡¯t hang around with them too much. Those kids are arrest bait. Sam dropped by and introduced himself to Bando as well.


    <strong>27th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Word From On High</strong>


    News came down from Opal. Tourmaline Barnes will see us next week, ¡®after we win the contest.¡¯


    I like the cut of her jib.


    <strong>29th Day of the 3rd Month, 8000: Do you feel lucky, punk?</strong>


    I¡¯ve beenughing for half an hour. I may beughing all week. Lucky Jean¡¯s has a little problem. Their Lucky Gembrew works a little<em>too</em>well. So well, that it tanked the price of gems in the city, after prospector-minded dwarves went hog-wild on it for the past month.


    As such, everyone who<em>would¡¯ve</em>voted for them, is now angry about the reduced price. To top it off, word on the street (courtesy of Johnsson and his new boyfriend Dwarf Draconis) is that dwarves were so enthusiastic about the<em>gems</em>that they didn¡¯t actually consider the<em>brew</em>valuable.


    We have this in the minecart!


    <strong>32nd day of the of the 3rd Month, 8000: Winner, Winner</strong>


    Chicken Dinner.


    We won the vote. We¡¯re in the semi finals.

 Book 3: Chapter 44: Wet and Dry

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 44: Wet and Dry</h4>


    Ah, good old deja vu.


    I closed my diary and curled back into the pillows I¡¯d piled into my cave-nook. It felt like just a few months ago that I¡¯d been sitting here writing in my diary about winning a round of the Octamillenial.


    Annie got the next set of rules in a pretty little mani envelope this morning, and we were scheduled to debrief it tonight.


    We won the quarterfinals by andslide. They didn¡¯t show us the exact numbers, but we ended up getting sixty-seven percent of the vote, quite literally <i>double</i> Lucky Jean¡¯s. The onlypetitor who did better was Riverside Brewery, who ended up getting eighty percent of the vote in their bracket. Yeesh.


    I still think it¡¯s ridiculous that anyone would vote for a beer they hadn¡¯t tried, but I¡¯m not a royalist.


    Master Brewer Herder came byst night to congratte us on the win. He could see the writing on the wall even before the announcement. He <i>also</i> asked for the brewing techniques for making his own gose. We were more than happy to ept his surrender <i>and</i> provide the know-how.


    Between the hops, the sorghum, and some experimentation with my [Miniature Remembrance] I had several ideas all lined up for the next contest. Hopefully it would be a <i>sane</i> ruleset this time.


    For some reason, they hadn¡¯t called the cooking contest results yet, and Bran and Darrel were biting heads off in the pub and would continue doing so until they got their answer. Suspicions abounded; we¡¯d lost, the voting had gone wrong, there were problems with the results, et-cetera.


    Hopefully they revealed the winners soon. Bran had sworn to feed us nothing but unsalted pea soup until they arrived, and Richter had started muttering about kidnapping a city official and getting them to talk. Anything to stop the endless pea soup.


    I checked the calendar that I¡¯d hammered into a wall, and considered.


    We were now halfway through the year, and the biggest events of the Octamillenial were fast approaching. There were diatorial fights in the Arena, an enormous mock-battle out on the ins to recreate the taking of Crack, an address by the King, the big drinking contest, a magic demonstration put on by the Academy, and a big faire.


    I was really looking forward to meeting up with Rumbob again. The jovial pro-drinker was scheduled to arrive in Kinshasa some time in the next month to try for the crown of greatest drinker in Crack. It would be interesting to see how the atmosphere around pro-drinking had changed in just the past couple years.


    Aqua was currently working on a giant banner that said ¡®Rum Tum Rumbob¡¯.


    All of this didn¡¯t even include our ownpetitions or the quest to get Lucky Jean¡¯s treasure.


    So much to do, so little time.


    I piddled around in my room for a while longer before hitting the bath. I could feel knots in my shoulders that were starting to form their own knots, and I needed to rx before someone used me of being a <i>knottty</i> dwarf. Nyuck.


    I had the ce to myself. Bran and Annie were spending the day together at the Grand Market before he left to go fight the boss, Johnsson was out with his boyfriend setting stuff on fire, or something. Richter was preparing to enter Archis Academy in the the fall, and Aqua was out doing some counseling work.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that brewing wasn¡¯t happening. After I¡¯d soaked long enough and gotten dressed, I meandered up to the brewroom and stared long and hard at the equipment, then toddered over to a trio of carboys set up against one wall. They werebeled <i>bitter</i>, <i>vour,</i> and <i>aroma</i>.


    Each contained a different type of hop.


    I¡¯d bottled them myself two weeks ago, and they were ready to open today.


    *Baaaah!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°I see you, varlet! How dare you try and sneak a drink without providing any for your Princess!¡±


    I jumped a full meter into the air. ¡°Hoy! Penelope! How in tha Nether are you so sneaky!? Shouldn¡¯t your hooves clop or somethin¡¯?¡±


    Penelope gave me a smug look, but said nothing. She nuzzled at the carboys and gave me a curious nce.


    ¡°Ah¡­. why not.¡± I muttered, running to grab a Whistlemug and her goat dish from the office. I didn¡¯t really want everyone drinking these until I¡¯d had a chance to anyway. If it tasted awful, I¡¯d relegate it to the dark pages of history and no-one would be the wiser.


    I popped the third container first and gave it a whiff. I was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. There was a heady amount of citrus to the smell, with hints of spice, almost like hot wine with orange slices. I took a breath and then another, closing my eyes to relish the moment.


    Then the mustard hit, in the form of an impatient goat. *Bleeeeehh!!¡±


    ¡°Give me a moment Penelope. This is a big deal for me.¡± I swirled the drink around, eyeing the rity. Nothing floating in it, and the colour was a nice crystal-clear amber. I¡¯d gone with making a bog standard ale for this test, using Goldstone Bitters and three variants of hops.


    This ss contained some of the hops I¡¯d assumed were Saaz. I¡¯d need to taste it to be sure, but right now it definitely had Saaz¡¯s unique scent. I also couldn¡¯t smell any of the skunk or cheese smells I would associate with a bad hop.


    As this was an aromatic style beer, I¡¯d put the Saaz in at the end of the boil, so it would have the least impact on the taste.


    There were three types of hopping, namely Wet Hopping, Boil Hopping, and Dry Hopping.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred tform. Support original creators!


    Wet Hopping involved putting in fresh hops flowers during the boil, and I wasn''t at the stage where I could do that yet. They needed to be <i>fresh </i>fresh, and I had zero quality control on the hops side.


    Dry Hopping involved putting hops into the fermentation tank itself, and letting the hops sit in there during fermentation. I wasn¡¯t going to do that for a while, mostly because our set-up really wasn¡¯t designed for it.


    These three beers had used a standard Boil Hopping method, which involved adding the bittering agent during the boil. That was how Sacred Brew was made already, so it didn¡¯t really involve any big changes.


    The biggest change was <i>when</i> the hops got added. You could add hops at the start of the boil, halfway through the boil, and right at the end before you moved into the cooling stage. The three stages were for bittering, vouring, and aroma¡­ ing.


    Was that a word?


    Anyways.


    Since Saaz was an aromatic hop, I¡¯d used it at end-of-boil, and now was the moment of truth!


    I pulled a pint into Penelope and my cups, then gave her a toast. ¡°To our future drinks!¡±


    *Meehee!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°To <i>my</i> future drinking!¡±


    She went to guzzle, then paused when her muzzle was a centimeter or so from the bowl. She narrowed her eyes with suspicion and sniffed at the bowl.


    I did the same, letting the Whistlemug capture and carry the scent to my nostrils. For a moment I was whisked back to those days in Beavermoose Brewery. I could almost hear Caroline calling my name and telling me to stop drinking from our own supply.


    Penelope and I sipped at nearly the same time, drinking greedily beforeing up for air at the same time with an *Ahhh*. Iughed at the expression on her face and she gave me a cheerful bleat.


    <strong>Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 5/16</i>


    ¡°Hah! Do you like it girl?¡± She gave a happy dance, and pushed the bowl around the room with her nose as she greedily drank from it. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t really capture the vour that I¡¯d been looking for.


    I moved onto the second carboy, and snickered as the goat practically teleported back in front of me, wagging her tail, dish in mouth.


    This second batch had been hopped midway through the boil. That imparted the vour of the hops without adding too much bitterness. I¡¯d tea tested all the various hops varieties over the past few days, and this one had been the most popr. It was a hop called ¡®brightleaf pineweed¡¯ and its flower had a silver sheen on the bottom of the petals.


    This time, the scent was faintly earthy, with undertones of grapefruit. Again, it was clear of any off-scents, and I smiled in smug satisfaction at a job well done. It was the hop that I¡¯d determined to be simr to Tettnanger.


    I poured a ss and bowl, gave a small cheers to Barck for luck, then downed it in one go.


    The refreshing taste of herbs and spices poured down my throat. For once, my gag reflex didn¡¯t kick in as I drank, and I almost choked with surprise.


    Beside me, Penelope gave a surprised grunt, and the sound of her gulping grew manic.


    I came up for air, tears in my eyes. I stared at the mug. It was¡­


    It was <i>perfect</i>.


    The vour profile <i>really </i>was quite simr to the German all-purpose noble hop Tettnanger, with the same earthy, mellow tones. I took a deep sniff of the brew and nodded to myself; yes, the smell wasn¡¯t quite as overpowering as the Saaz style variant, but the vour was more pronounced. It went <i>very </i>well with the Goldstone Bitters, and though it was quite nearly sacrilege, I almost preferred it to pure hops.


    This was far and above the best beer I¡¯d ever drunk on Erd. It reminded me very much of a Granville Ind German Pilsner from back home. Tettnanger was a favored hop for Pilsners, wits, andgers in general since it had such a light impact on the brew. It also yed well with other bittering agents, which made it a fun hop to y with.


    It melded with the Goldstone Bitters like they¡¯d been made for each other, and I took another gulp as the cold beer quenched my thirst in that way only a good ale could.


    I finished, then grimaced as I considered the empty ss. It would surely be fate if Tettnanger became the most popr hop variety on Erd. After all, it¡¯d been grown by order of the King. King Wilhelm to be exact, which made it Pete tested, nobility approved.


    <strong>Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 6/16</i>


    It was time to try the third brew. This hop didn¡¯t have too much aroma. so I¡¯d put it into the boil right at the start. Hops added at the start of the wort boil added their full bitterness to the brew, and I was looking forward to seeing how a hop-bittered beer tasted like to my current tastebuds.


    With shaking hands I poured the requisite mug and bowl, then took a sip. Penelope did the same a half secondter.


    Both of us choked, gagged, and spat beer all over the floor.


    It was bitter, foul, and shed horribly with the Goldstone Bitters.


    Penelope had shoved her bowl far away from her, and was head first in her water trough. I nearly did the same, but had the presence of mind to grab some fresh water from a passing elemental instead. When I could breathe again I walked around the room activating [Spot Clean] on the mess we¡¯d made.


    By all tha bits of the Gods! Forget the vour profile, or what kind of Earth hops it was analogous to, I couldn¡¯t feel my <i>face!</i>


    It was a good thing that I¡¯d tested this myself! If I¡¯d presented this brew to the team first, they¡¯d never look at hops again!


    I couldn¡¯t tell if it was the hops, the mix of bitters, or what, but this was definitely out. I¡¯d need to try without the Goldstone Bitters next time, or use the Brightleaf variety instead. Either way, the third carboy got emptied into the sink, never to be spoken of again.


    Just in time too, as Annie walked into the room.


    ¡°Hey Annie! How¡¯s it going?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­?¡±


    She gave me a vacant look. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You were saying?¡±


    ¡°Hi sorry, I¡¯m Pete. What¡¯s up? Everything okay?¡±


    Annie stared at me with nk eyes, and I started to grow nervous.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you at Balin out at the Market? Why do you look like someone died?? Talk to me Annie!¡±


    Annie nodded, halfheartedly. ¡°Remember how I was waiting until tonight to read the contest package? Well, we ran into Master Brewer Schist of Riverside Brewery. at the market. He told us he couldn¡¯t wait to see which of us was the better brewer.¡±


    It took a second, and I got it. My face grew wan.


    Annie nodded. ¡°Aye. Ourpetitor for this round¡­¡±


    I finished, horror in my eyes, ¡°Is <i>Riverside Brewery</i>!?¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 45: Dwarf, Interrupted

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 45: Dwarf, Interrupted</h4>


    We all looked up as Johnsson entered the room, festooned in red and yellow and wearing ¡®Kinshasa Brew Gives You Wings¡¯ Draconis merch. He looked at our crestfallen faces in concern. ¡°Uh oh. What happened? Why¡¯re you all weepy?¡±


    Richter patted a space on the chair beside him. ¡°Come on Johnsson. You¡¯re ¡®dest one.¡±


    ¡°Aye, sorry. There was a cat fight.¡±


    I winced at the image. There were thousands of cats in Kinshasa, and cat fights could rapidly spiral out of control.


    ¡±Do they need a Healer?¡± Richter asked, making to stand.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine.¡± Johnsson waved him down. ¡°It¡¯s all handled. Anyone care ta tell me why you all look like someone died?¡±


    ¡°¡®Cause Bando <i>did </i>die.¡± I said, burying my head in my hands. ¡°You big, fat, jerk!¡±


    Johnsson looked aghast. ¡°What!? How!?¡±


    ¡°It was a goat ident.¡± Aqua put in.


    ¡°Aye, clear through tha billy.¡± Balin added.


    ¡°He was so young.¡± Annie wept.


    ¡°Och, I¡¯ll miss ¡®im!¡± Balin pulled Annie close and the pair wailed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got alls yer pretzels,¡± Bando said, sweeping into the office with a loaded tray. He looked around at the crying room and the glowering Johnsson. ¡°Um, what?¡±


    We all burst intoughter at Johnsson¡¯s outraged protests.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you get foring inte, now sit down.¡± Annie pointed at the spot next to Richter. ¡°We¡¯re all ¡®weepy¡¯ because we found out who ourpetition is for the semi-finals.¡±


    ¡°Oh. It¡¯s Riverside Brewery isn¡¯t it?¡± Johnsson asked, taking a seat. ¡°Everyone¡¯s talkin¡¯ about it.¡±


    Annie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. ¡°We got this envelope <i>this morning</i>. <i>We haven¡¯t even opened it yet</i>. And everyone¡¯s already talking about it. Gods.¡±


    ¡°The power of the hometeam.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Aye.¡± Johnsson nodded. ¡°They¡¯re calling it tha fight of new and old. Kinshasa against Minnova. West versus East, Giant versus ¨C ¡°


    ¡°We got it!¡± Annie snapped. ¡°You can stop now. What does everyone think?¡±


    Aqua held up her hand. ¡°I think it¡¯ll be good for us either way. We already made it into the semi-finals, and the tavern is <i>booming</i>. If the n was to get rich, we¡¯ve already won.¡±


    ¡°I thought ¡®de n was to show off our new brewing techniques.¡± Richter said, pointing out the office window at the gleaming equipment.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve seeded on that.¡± I put in, smugly. ¡°The Master Brewers took detailed notes on all our equipment; Annie and my little pitch to them paid off in spades. With the sess of Kinshasa brew and Copperpot¡¯s inroads with the gnomes, I think they all see the runes on the wall. I expect simr equipment to be installed in every brewery in Kinshasa by the end of the year. Outside of the few hardliners that still show up now and then to protest, that is.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about tha rest of you, but I want to <i>win</i> this.¡± Kirk said. ¡°Show them the strength of the Thirsty Goat!¡±


    ¡°Aye!¡± Johnsson agreed, bumping fists with him. ¡°Who cares if it¡¯s against the home team! Let¡¯s <i>win</i> this!!!¡±


    ¡°For Crack and Annie!¡± Bando shouted, excitedly. We all nced in his direction; I don¡¯t think any of us had realized he was still here.


    ¡°Aye! Fer Crack and Annie!¡± The cheer reverberated in the cramped office, and Penelope bolted out of the room with an angry bleat.


    To her credit, Annie just rolled her eyes and thwacked the envelope. ¡°Then without further ado, let¡¯s find out what we¡¯ll bepeting on.¡±


    We waited with bated breath as she opened the envelope and began reading it aloud.


    ¡°Wee to the sem-finals of the Kinshasa Octamillenial Brewing contest. That you¡¯ve made it this far is a testament to your hard work and dedication to the craft. In thest round you were tasked to make the most valuable brew, and we saw an incredible variety of beers. From beers with gold in them, to beers with salt, beers served in gem-encrusted bottles, and a beer drunk only by the king.¡±


    ¡°Hey! We¡¯re in there!¡± Kirk shouted in excitement.


    ¡°Gem-encrusted bottles??¡± Aqua asked, looking horrified. ¡°Who was <i>that!?</i>¡±


    ¡°Grey Goose brewery.¡± I muttered, darkly. ¡°Talk about buying your win. They used the flood of gems on the market from Lucky Jean¡¯s to sell bottles studded with gems for their bog standard Sacred Brew.¡±


    ¡°Aye, they''re owned by a noble from South Kinshasa.¡± Johnsson nodded. ¡°They¡¯re definitely the wealthiest brewery in the contest.¡±


    ¡°Please tell me they didn¡¯t win.¡± Aqua muttered, but she knew the answer in her heart.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    I sighed. ¡°No, they did. To be fair, they faced off against team ¡®gold in the brew¡¯, and that tasted <i>vile</i>.¡±


    It¡¯d also given me glittery shits for a few days after.


    Annie continued, ¡°For the semi-finals, we want to see if you¡¯re capable of knocking Kinshasa off its feet. Everyone knows that dwarves are indomitable, capable of taking a punch and getting right back up, so let''s put that to the test. This round, the popce will vote for which beer hits the hardest. Voting will go until the end of the 5th month.The winners will be required to provide beer for the Octamillenial diatorial Matches.¡±


    We all sucked in our breaths. That was going to be expensive, and a<i> pain</i> to brew enough while also meeting our own obligations.


    ¡°Are you going to be in the diatorial matches, Balin?¡± Kirk asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing a lot about it from some of my adventuring friends.¡±


    Balin nodded. ¡°Aye. Brightstar is in tha¡¯ amateur matches. Most of the adventurers are. It¡¯s a fun way to prove and improve ourselves. Maybe get some Milestones out of it!¡±


    Annie coughed. ¡°*Ahem* We already know the next part:


    ¡®Yourpetition for this round will be Riverside Brewery, run by Master Brewer Schist.


    Congrattions on your win, and Barck¡¯s luck be with you. Happy Octamillenial!¡¯¡±


    There was a beat of silence as we digested, until Bando broke in. ¡°Haw! Big city dwarves can¡¯t get their words straight! How is beer supposed ta hit anythin¡¯?¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: The Octamillenial Part 3/4!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Keep on Winning! You got this! I believe in you!</i><i></i>


    <i>Semifinals Won: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: +1 Strength, +1 Vitality</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Yes, obviously.


    ¡ª


    A few minutester, after Annie had given Bando the boot and closed the door behind him, we were around our round table preparing for war.


    ¡°What about spice! Like we did with salt, except using peppers or firevines!¡± Annie mused.


    ¡°Ooh! What about askin¡¯ some of tha wrestlers toe and serve beer at the Goat? Get beer <i>and</i> punch!¡± Johnsson guffawed.


    I added Annie¡¯s idea to the list, and rolled my eyes at Johnsson¡¯s.


    We had a dozen ideas up on the chalkboard, including using Richter¡¯s Alchemical Beer idea fromst round to literally knock people out. Richter was still working hard with his alchemist friend to see if they could manage to make it cheaper.


    ¡°Up in the humannds we have some <i>really</i> strong alcohols. One is even called dreamwater because it knocks you right out!¡± Kirk said. ¡°Could we¡­ add some to the beer?¡±


    The grumble paused to consider this.


    As for me, I began to chuckle. Then snigger. Then guffaw. Then Iughed in ways no mortal words could describe.


    Aqua edged away. ¡°You okay, Pete?¡±


    I stoppedughing, and wiped away a tear. ¡°Better than okay! Kirk, you¡¯re a genius!¡±


    ¡°What? Adding other alcohols to the beer? I don¡¯t think that¡¯ll work, Pete. And I don¡¯t think we can try your ¡®It Isn¡¯t Really Beer¡¯ idea in a <i>beer</i> brewing contest.¡± Annie frowned.


    ¡°No, not that.¡± I held up a Whistlemug full of Liquid Gold. ¡°Who here can drink one of these and not feel it?¡±


    I got some confused blinks, and I sighed. ¡°Who can drink a ss of Sacred Brew and not get drunk.¡±


    Everyone held up their hand.


    ¡°Who can drink <i>two </i>sses? Three. Four. Five - ¡° I counted up until only I was left. Most dropped out around five or six, the lightweights.


    ¡°Are you going somewhere with this, Pete?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°I am! Though it¡¯s actually Aqua¡¯s idea.¡± I gestured at Aqua and she looked momentarily confused before the light clicked.


    Aqua jumped to her feet. ¡°That¡¯s right! You said you know a way to increase the alcohol content of beer!¡±


    I nodded smugly, adding ¡®higher ABV¡¯ to the board, ¡°Aye. You mentioned it during our brainstorming for the quarterfinals. I¡¯ve been thinking about it a lot, recently.¡±


    Richter frowned. ¡°I think it would work, but it¡¯s giving me a baaaad feelin¡¯.¡±


    I psh¡¯awed. ¡°Eh, it¡¯ll be fine. Worst case scenario it knocks people out in two drinks instead of four. But for the concept of ¡®a beer that hits hardest¡¯? I think it''s a shoe-in to win! Especially because, like Aqua said, people drink to get drunk, so a beer that does that faster is sure to earn votes!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s everyone¡¯s thoughts?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°Dunno why you¡¯re asking us?¡± Johnsson said, one eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Aye, you¡¯re the boss!¡± Kirk nodded.


    I grinned. ¡°True, true, this is a dictatorship of us. Do you approve, Annie?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­. I think I do. And it¡¯ll give us a new beer for the menu no matter what. Can you exin how we¡¯ll do it, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely! We¡¯re going all in on the monarchy, because we¡¯re going to make an Imperial brew!¡± I gestured expansively and began the spiel.


    Then paused as, for the umpteenth time this afternoon, someone burst into the room and interrupted us.


    It was Bran and Darrel. Bran was waving arge man envelope, just like our own. ¡°We got tha results fer the cooking contest! We won!¡±


    We all dutifully cheered. ¡°HUZZAH!!!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions Bran.¡± Annie said, smiling warmly. ¡°You deserve it. You and Darrel have worked so hard in the kitchen for the past month.¡± She considered and gave me a questioning eye. I nodded.


    ¡°In fact. We¡¯ve <i>all</i> been working hard. As such, Pete and I have prepared a small vacation. With the contest out of the way, I¡¯d like everyone to take the whole day off tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Aye. I have a meeting with Opal about you know what.¡± I waggled my eyebrows as the crew broke into excited murmurs.


    We couldn¡¯t talk more about it with Darrel in the room, but that would soon change. The Digger family were rapidly bing a big enough part of our lives that we''d need to bring them in on our secrets.


    ¡°So, what does it say!?¡± Aqua asked, pointing at the envelope.


    Bran¡¯s face contorted in anger. ¡°They said someone <i>cheated!</i>¡±


    There was intense grumbling at that. Cheating!? For a contest of skill and craft!? Unthinkable!


    ¡°Who was it?¡± Richter asked, cracking his knuckles.


    ¡°They don¡¯t say.¡± Bran shrugged. ¡°I think they donnae want tha bastard hung and shaved.¡±


    ¡°Probably a noble.¡± I muttered darkly. Balin looked crestfallen, but didn¡¯t gainsay me.


    ¡°So what DOES it say!¡± Aqua shrieked.


    ¡°Ah, Pete. You¡¯ll appreciate this one!¡± Balin winked at me. ¡°They want us to cook something¡­ using beer!!!¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 46: Imperial Majesty

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 46: Imperial Majesty</h4>


    Cooking with beer. It¡¯s one of my favourite things, along with cooking with wine.


    There¡¯s just something about using a drink <i>you made</i> as a primary ingredient in cooking. I never really got into farming ¨C outside of growing grapes for the vineyard ¨C but I imagine a farmer had the same feeling. Crafting something you grew and cared for yourself into a delicious meal that your friends and family can enjoy. There isn¡¯t any feeling like it in the world.


    Not quite as awesome as bing a father, but it was close.


    Among dwarves, cooking with beer was unheard of a scant three years ago. Heck, I¡¯d had to do some serious mental reprogramming to convince Bran to cook with <i>The Sacred Brew</i> and start seeing it as an ingredient instead of a monolith.


    Of course, I strongly doubt that Bran and I were the first to cook with beer. Dwarves were obsessed enough with it that it had to have been done before. However, Bran and I were quite possibly the first proper mix of capitalistic and stubborn enough to try selling it. We were going to share our recipes with the world and <i>damn</i> the consequences!


    There were some angry naysayers at the start, but cooking with beer had been adopted rather quickly by other restaurants. It felt like everyone had been wondering about the idea, but were too scared of public opinion to try. Once one person proved it could be done, everyone just jumped right on board.


    We were facing a renaissance in cooking, and I was here to see it!


    Exciting!


    ¡°Hah! The salt thing was dumber than a sack o¡¯ craggy karst, but this one¡¯s perfect!¡± Bran crowed. He tossed a knife up, caught it, and then spun it like some kind of bearded Japanese teppan chef. ¡°I¡¯ve got at least fifty recipes with beer already done! It¡¯ll just be a matter of deciding which one¡¯ll sell best!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions, Bran!¡± Annie smiled warmly. ¡°Do you have any ideas?¡±


    ¡°Aye, a few. But first I wanted to hear your ideas. I think half tha reason we won was that my food paired well with your drink. We have an advantage there that''d be a shame to waste. So what¡¯re you lot brewing?¡±


    ¡°We haven¡¯t <i>really</i> decided yet.¡± I said. ¡°Though I was in tha middle of a pitch.¡±


    ¡°It was <i>my</i> idea.¡± Aqua jumped in.


    Bran raised one eyebrow. ¡°Ya sure you want to use one of Aqua¡¯s ideas?¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± She protested.


    I chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    ¡°Well, what is it then? Tell me quick so I can go and make tha food.¡± Bran took a seat, squeezing in beside Kirk.


    ¡°The idea is to brew something called an <i>imperial</i> brew.¡±


    Bran grunted. ¡°You thinkin¡¯ of copying Riverside¡¯s idea? Dunno if that¡¯ll work twice.¡±


    I waved him off. ¡°No, not at all. Imperial brew is just beer that has a much higher alcohol content than a normal brew.¡±


    ¡°If its got nothin¡¯ ta do with the king, why¡¯d ya call it an <i>Imperial</i>?¡± Darrel asked, confused. He and Bando were still holding up the doorway, Darrel¡¯s reluctance to enter <i>our </i>space was clear.


    ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t ¨C!¡± Aqua began, but I cut her off.


    ¡°I¡¯m d you asked, Darrel!¡±


    Everyone but Richter and Annie sighed as Iunched into my exnation. Of course, raising a teenage daughter who wasn¡¯t the least bit interested in beer had inured me to <i>that </i>particr sigh.


    ¡°It all goes back to a King from a faroff country who visited my homnd. This was about four hundred years ago.¡±


    ¡°Whatcha mean yer homnd?¡± Bando interrupted, looking confused.


    ¡°I¡¯d guessed you weren¡¯t from Crack...¡± Darrel nodded.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m from somewhere far off.¡± I said, pointing up.


    Darrel looked up to the ceiling. ¡°You mean tha¡¯ Nortnds?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ sure, sort of. Let¡¯s call it the <i>True North Strong and Free</i>. Now, my country had its own version of Barista Brew called a <i>porter</i>. Kirk, you may remember my story about porters?¡±


    Kirk chuckled. ¡°How can I forget? I dunno if everyone else has had a chance to hear it though.¡± He gestured broadly around the room.


    ¡°Nah! We¡¯re good!¡± Johnsson quickly put in.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the vition.


    ¡°But I want to ¨C ¡° Richter began but was quickly shushed.


    ¡°The visiting king, Czar Peter, also known as Peter the Great, fell in love with porters,¡± I continued. ¡°And when he returned home, he requested that the brewers from my homnd send him some. One problem though ¨C the beer couldn¡¯tst long enough to make the trip.¡±


    Darrel nodded. ¡°Aye, some beers spoil real durn quick. Seems like they¡¯re gone soon as we open ¡®em. I use ta hear grumblin¡¯ from the merchants all the time ¡®bout beer goin¡¯ bad on the road to Minnova.¡±


    ¡°Well, they solved it by massively increasing the ABV ¨C the amount of alcohol in the brew. Of course, that changed the taste, so they added more bittering agent and preservatives as well. The result was a very <i>full</i> tasting beer; a bigger, more <i>everything</i> of what the porter already was. When Czar Peter got his first taste, he fell so deeply in love with it that he dered it his official <i>Imperial</i> beer. The name stuck. From then on when brew anything that has a higher ABV ¨C that¡¯s alcohol content ¨C it¡¯s called an imperial. Though some anti-imperialists prefer to call them doubles or triples instead cause they¡¯re double the fun!¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s anti-imperial these days.¡± Balin grumped. Annie patted him on the shoulder.


    ¡°How different<i></i>is it, Pete?¡± Aqua asked, examining the bottles we had lining the walls of the office. ¡°What numbers exactly are we talking about here?¡±


    ¡°Well, as far as I can tell, dwarven beer has an ABV of around two percent or so.¡±


    ¡°Is that a little or a lot?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°It''s low. Alcohol in the human kingdoms is a lot stronger.¡± Kirk put in. ¡°Dunno if that would taste good in beer though.¡±


    I shook my head in denial. ¡°Ach, no! An imperial brew has an ABV of about nine to twelve percent. Hard alcohols like yours are closer to thirty or fourty percent.¡±


    To be fair, we did have super high ABV beers back on earth. Brewmeister was one of the most well known super high ABV breweries. Last I recalled their Snake Venom brew was the highest ABV beer in the world at around seventy percent.


    Personally I found super high ABV beers tasted more like spirits than anything else, with the high alcohol content killing the more subtle vours and aromas expected to find in a good craft brew. Plus, you had to use distilling techniques to get a good tasting beer at such a high ABV, and I considered that cheating.


    If you¡¯re a beer brewer, then brew properly dammit!


    Ugh. Was I going to need to start keeping an onion in my pocket? I was sounding like one of the Master Brewers!


    ¡°The biggest problem is actually going to be our yeast,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Most yeasts die off or go to ¡®sleep¡¯ if the ABV gets too high. I¡¯ll have to cultivate some high ABV yeasts by using [Rapid Aging] to get a moderate ABV then iterate with the survivin¡¯ yeast cake.¡±


    Back on Earth I could just <i>buy</i> a high ABV Yeast. I really did need to fob my yeast textbook off ASAP and get some experts on it.


    Annie had her notebook out and was beginning to take notes. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll need you to teach me more about thatter. And <i>are </i>we going to call it imperial brew? Bran¡¯s right; there may beints that we¡¯re copying Riverside¡¯sst idea.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Speaking of which, the higher alcohol content is a great idea, but will it be <i>better </i>than whatever Riverside brews up? Master Brewer Schist¡¯s no slouch.¡±


    Johnsson put up his hand. ¡°Erm. I think the bigger question is if the higher alcohol content will have¡­ simr effects to thest few times you made new brews, Pete?¡±


    I considered him for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Sure? I mean, I don¡¯t understand the physiology or whatever it was that caused all tha hubbub thest few times. We didn¡¯t get anythin¡¯ like that with the Kinshasa brew, but I suspect more than quadrupling the alcohol content of tha beer may have¡­ consequences.¡±


    Johnsson thumped his fists on his knees, resolutely. ¡°Then I think it¡¯s a good idea. From the local gossip, folk are expecting something <i>special</i> out of us. Somethin¡¯ different, for better or for worse. Let''s not disappoint them. That¡¯s our ticket to beating Riverside, methinks.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Kirk said. ¡°You were even a hot topic in the humanmunity.¡±


    Annie gave me a thumbs up. ¡°Alrighty, then. How do we go about making an Imperial brew Pete?¡±


    ¡°Hah! It¡¯s practically too easy. The trick is more everything. More bittering agent, more malt, more Ancestral seed. It¡¯s called a ¡®double¡¯ for a reason; you just double up on everything! But first, we should use our most popr brew as a base. That¡¯ll help.¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯ll depend. Are we including gnomes in that?¡± Annie asked, flipping to a section of her notebook.


    ¡°Yes?¡± I said, uncertainly. ¡°They can vote in the contest, can¡¯t they?¡±


    Johnsson coughed. ¡°Dunno about that. I heard that gnomes were being turned away at some of tha voting booths. They were told ¡®gnomes can¡¯t properly appreciate Sacred Brew¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Aye! I heard about that!¡± Bando shouted excitedly. ¡°Just another example of that there durn government keepin¡¯ down our gnomish brethren! If they wants to enjoy Sacred Brew and tell the world what kind they think is best, then let ¡®em!¡±


    ¡°Mmmm¡­honestly, stouts are the best for an imperial brew in my opinion.¡± I mused. ¡°And our Barista Brew''s been around long enough for people to be used to the concept.¡±


    Then I hesitated. ¡°But¡­ let¡¯s not jump into it. Give me a day or two to consider. There are a couple kinds of Imperial brews we could try. Oh! And I could use my new nitro trick!¡±


    Annie frowned. ¡°I thought the whole point of your nitro infusion was to differentiate our brews from regr beer. I¡¯ll repeat. Do we <i>really </i>want to do that for the contest?¡±


    ¡°Eh, we can present it to tha popce as our entry but argue it to tha Master Brewers as something different. Heck, they may use that opportunity ta rify the difference after tha winner is dered. It¡¯s a good public venue ta do so.¡±


    ¡°What if they disqualify us?¡± Johnsson frowned.


    I hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d care. That would technically mean that we seeded in separating brewing from the tyranny of the guild. It¡¯d be worth it.¡±


    Annie grumbled. ¡°Let¡¯s talk more about thatter.¡±


    Hopefully all the rigamarole would get me that meeting with Barck topete for my soul, too!


    Bran abruptly stood. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got enough, thanks. If yer goin¡¯ fer high alcohol content, then I probably need something greasy. Maybe those beer basted ribs we made, Pete, or somethin¡¯ stuffed.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯m definitely looking forward to taste testing more this round.¡± Iughed.


    There was the patter of feet as Rosie Digger came running into the brewroom.


    ¡°Sorry to interrupt you all,¡± she gasped. ¡°But you need toe out. Master Schist is here to see you! He said he wants to talk about the semi-finals!¡±


    Annie and I gave each other worried nces, then headed to the front entrance. Now what!?

 Book 3: Chapter 57: Up Schist Creek

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 57: Up Schist Creek</h4>


    Master Brewer Schist was quite short for a dwarf, nearly gnomish in height, with a balding pate and a grey-white traditionally knotted beard that matches his palid skin. He wore a set of golden spectacles and beard bangles that offset his ck master brewer¡¯s robes quite handsomely. Said robe was worn quite loose, looking more like a poncho than armored dress-robes. His face was etched withugh lines and he squinted as he looked around the pub. He very much reminded me of several interpretations of Friar Tuck. He was apanied by Guildmaster Malt and a grey-robed journeyman brewer.


    The pub was mostly empty at the moment. It wouldn¡¯t really fill up for another hour or so, which gave us plenty of time to see what this was all about.


    Schist spread his arms wide as we approached. ¡°Ah! The dwarves of the hour!¡±


    ¡°Master Brewer Schist. Guildmaster Malt.¡± We bowed over clenched fists and gave the customary greeting. ¡°We greet you on this most auspicious day.¡±


    The rest of our party hung back and variously watched in interest, grabbed chairs to sit, or headed to the kitchen to cook.


    The trio bowed and returned the greeting.


    ¡°This really is such a lovely ce.¡± Schist said, his voice a warm tenor in the educated style. He tapped a gem-tipped staff on the floor in a habitual tick as he gave the environs an appreciative nod. Schist was a mage, and that was probably his sigil tool. Most dwarves preferred wands, but staves served dual purpose as a weapon and mobility aid.


    ¡°Congrattions, you two.¡± Malt gave a bright smile. ¡°I always knew you¡¯d be able to make it this far!¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°<i>This</i> far? We n on going all the way.¡±


    ¡°Oho! Well, it seems the Gods saw fit to drop a stone in your path.¡± Malt chuckled, motioning at Schist.


    I crossed my arms. ¡°That¡¯s fine, I just need to be <i>boulder</i>. We¡¯ll win this in andslide.¡±


    Malt feigned shock. ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re already taking your win for <i>granite</i>.¡±


    ¡°<i>Chalk</i> it up to experience!¡±


    ¡°What brings you to the Goat, Master Brewer Schist? If you were nning toe, you should¡¯ve told us when we met this morning!¡± Annie interrupted smoothly, giving Schist a curious nce.


    Schist¡¯s smile grew wider. ¡°Well you see, until this morning I hadn¡¯t put much thought into the semi-finals yet. There wasn¡¯t much point when we didn¡¯t know the contents, and who we¡¯d bepeting against.¡±


    Annie and I both nodded. We¡¯d done much the same.


    Schist''s smile thinned. ¡°Honestly, I was disappointed to learn we¡¯d bepeting against you. Ah, not because we didn¡¯t want to! Rather I was looking forward topeting with you in the finals! It seems like such a waste that we¡¯re meeting in the semi-finals instead.¡±


    Malt rubbed his chin, sagely. ¡°Aye. I was too. It would¡®ve made for a grand final match! But fate had other ideas.¡±


    We¡¯d been hoping to meet them in the finals too, though for a different reason!


    ¡°However, after I met you this morning I was struck by inspiration,¡± Schist continued. ¡°So I ran to talk to my team about it. Then I asked Guildmaster Malt here if you¡¯d be likely to agree, and if he¡¯d be willing to back me. Thankfully, he said yes to both!¡± He thumped Malt on the back, who coughed, then thumbed his armor in pride.


    Annie and I threw twin curious stares Malt¡¯s way. What had you signed us up for Malt?


    Schist barreled on, which was apt for a brewer. ¡°I still remember the tour you gave me of your brewroom! So many incredible new designs and brewing techniques. That bottler alone will save my apprentices hours of toiling over barrels. And your presentation to the guild! I¡¯ve been feeling for years that something was off with my brewing. I¡¯ve been using magic to clear our beer somewhat, and to reduce failure rates, but you showed me the potential that I¡¯ve been missing out on.¡±


    Annie and I shuffled self-consciously, looking around the pub. We were starting to gather a lot of attention. Master Brewer Schist was a well-known and influential individual, so his public praise <i>would</i> get spread around. That was good for us, of course, but it wasn¡¯t too great for <i>him</i>. Where was he going with this?


    Malt elbowed him in the side. ¡°Yer rambling, Schist.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry. Where was I? The contest, yes. I¡¯d like to propose that above and beyond the contest rules we add another stiption!¡± He gestured grandly around the room.


    Annie¡¯s voice was cool as she cut in. ¡°We can certainly consider it. But perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere a bit more private?¡±


    Schist blinked, then looked around the room at the beady beardy eyes watching our byy with great interest.


    ¡°Don¡¯t stop on our ount!¡± A bystander put in.


    ¡°Aye! It was just gettin¡¯ good!¡± Another added.


    Schist coughed. ¡°I apologize, I can get a bit carried away when ites to brewing. You understand.¡±


    Annie gave me a sardonic look. ¡°Oh, absolutely, we¡¯re more than familiar with the type here at the Goat.¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Hey! I resembled that remark.


    We led the two Master Brewers to the brewroom. The rest of the crew stayed behind with Schist¡¯s journeyman, both to keep herpany, and to prepare for the dinner rush.


    It took us a while to get to the office, as Schist kept stopping to admire the equipment, asking questions and scribbling in a notebook that he pulled up from a storage Ability. He had lots of questions, and Annie and Malt had to keep moving the two of us along.


    Schist came to a full stop when we passed the fermentation tanksbeled ¡®Light Brew¡¯. ¡°Is this using the Ancestral Seed I gave you? You were quick!¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is. Thank you again for the opportunity, Master Brewer.¡± Annie bowed forward, holding her beard out. ¡°I¡¯m certain if my father was here he¡¯d be overjoyed. We¡¯re going rack it sometime next week, and we¡¯d be honoured if you¡¯d join us for it.¡±


    Schist coughed. ¡°I¡¯d love toe. I heard about¡­ that unfortunate incident in Minnova. I hope nothing so untoward happens to you while you¡¯re in Kinshasa. If you suspect any sabotage, please be sure toe see me.¡±


    ¡°You could start with getting those protesters to stop showing up every Aarday.¡± I grumbled.


    Schist shrugged. ¡°I chase them off when I see them. But, ording to the City of Kinshasa Ordinances Chapter 89, Section 4 they have the right to protest as long as they obtain the proper permits. Do they have them?¡±


    ¡°Yessss.¡± I hissed. It was the first thing I checked. Cursed curmudgeons doing their bureaucratic legwork!


    Annie and Malt eventually managed to herd us into the brewroom.


    With the door firmly shut behind us, Annie turned to Master Brewer Schist. ¡°Very well, Master Brewer Schist, you had a proposal?¡±


    Schist pulled at his beard. ¡°Yes, yes. And the more I see of your brewroom, and all this.¡± He gestured around the room at the various notes and diagrams on the walls. ¡°The more I¡¯m sure that I¡¯m making the correct decision.¡±


    ¡°Ya need to stop leading the poor Brewers on.¡± Malt drawled. ¡°Young folk have no patience these days, you know.¡±


    ¡°Hrm. Very well. You still have that mage on staff? Healer Richter? Is he the one that designed all your magical equipment?¡±


    I puffed out my chest. ¡°Myself as well! In fact, I just became an [Arcane Brewer] the other day!¡± Well, [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter], but same difference.


    ¡°Dear Gods.¡± Malt gawped. ¡°Already?? Peter, that must be some kind of record! Why it was justst year that you Specialized for the first time!¡±


    Schist¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°Oh? Even better.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow, questioningly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had an opportunity to really stretch my moustache as an [Arcane Brewer],¡± he continued, ¡°and with my retirementing up some time in the next decade this may be my only chance to do so.¡±


    He looked despondent at the thought, and Malt patted him on the shoulder.


    Schist thumped his staff on the floor, causing the gem on the top to sh impressively.. ¡°The contest is to make a brew that can ¡®hit the hardest¡¯, but I think we can take it further. I propose that we both use <i>magic</i> to create Crack¡¯s first magical Sacred Brews! Enchantment, Abilities, Spells, anything goes to create something the city will talk about for generations!¡±


    ¡ª


    It took a solid hour to hammer out the specifics of Master Schist¡¯s n. Malt provided some neutral input here and there as we worked.


    This gist of it was:


    Our breweries would announce we were crafting magically enhanced brews for thepetition.


    We¡¯d both release said brews on the first day of the fifth month.


    We¡¯d put on a joint celebration at the end of the fifth month, just before final votes were tallied. The celebration would be at a to-be-determined neutral beer-garden within Redwall. I pitched the park where Berry was set up as a possibility, but Schist shot it down as being too easily affiliated with us.


    That would leave just enough time for the winner to craft enough beer for the Octamillenial diatorial contest.


    Finally, beyond meeting the nebulous requirement of ¡®hitting hard¡¯, anything magical was a go ¨C Alchemical or otherwise.


    My head was fuzzy by the time we hashed everything out.


    Was this really happening?


    Had the biggest Master Brewer in the city just <i>called us out</i>? Not as apostates, but as fellow craftsmen? No feuds, no throwing metaphorical weight around. Just a good old fashioned <i>magical brewoff!?</i>


    <i>Hell yeah!</i>


    As we finished with a spit-beardshake, I couldn¡¯t help but shake my head in bewilderment. As if to seal the deal, I heard a familiar little *ding!*


    <strong>Quest: Magical Brewoff</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>A world¡¯s first! Isn¡¯t this exciting? Beat them, or don¡¯t. </i><i></i>


    <i>Win or lose, I still win!</i><i></i>


    <i></i>


    <i>Magical Brewoff Won: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: Slight Increase To Mana</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I grimaced. Thanks for the support, Barck.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, Master Schist.¡± I said, as we packed up. ¡°This¡¯s gonna put a serious crimp in yer rtionship with the Guild. Why¡¯re ya doin¡¯ this?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just ept that I want to expand the confines of my craft?¡± Schist replied, a twinkle in his eyes.


    ¡°No.¡± I admitted. ¡°There¡¯s got ta be more to it.¡±


    Schist considered for a while, then his face grew serious. ¡°There¡¯re quite a few voices both in the Guild and amongst the nobility that¡¯re growin¡¯ upset with how well you¡¯re doing. You were a curiosity at first, some young upstarts from Minnova, but with the unrest in the city and your sess with modifying the Sacred Brew, you¡¯re rapidly bing a symbol of change. I suspect that as we approach the festival, there¡¯ll be an increased desire to see you removed as a variable.¡±


    Guildmaster Malt nodded sadly.


    I felt a chill pass down my back. <i>What!?</i>


    Beside me, Annie had gone stock still. ¡°You¡¯re running interference.¡±


    Schist sighed. ¡°Aye. Your Guildmaster has been as well. With this, it should take some of the ill will towards you and focus it on me.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ your reputation.¡±


    Schist scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m Master Schist of <i>THE</i> Riverside Brewery, Brewer. Who would dare gainsay me in the field of Brewing?¡±


    ¡°But still¡­.¡±


    ¡°If you want to thank me, then show me something great. I wasn¡¯t lying when I said this benefits me as well. I <i>want</i> topete with you, properly.¡± Schist proimed, heading out into the brewroom. ¡°You have four weeks until the required time. I can¡¯t wait to see what you brew up. Don¡¯t disappoint me, young Brewers! And I assure you, I intend to <i>win</i>!¡±


    Malt gave us a fist-bump each, then trundled after Schist.


    Annie and I stared at each other in shock for a solid minute or two, then ran out to tell everyone the news.

 Big Announcement: Hearthcon

    <h4>Big Announcement: Hearthcon</h4>


    wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcountwordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount wordcount


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

 Book 3: Chapter 48: Tourmaline Barnes

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 48: Tourmaline Barnes</h4>


    The crew went mad when we told them the news in a quick emergency meeting. Especially Richter, who begged some time off to quickly contact his [Alchemist] friend. He¡¯d been working on his alchemical brew idea for months now, and this could prove the perfect time to put it into practice.


    Our agreement with Riverside Brewery had us releasing our brews in just under four weeks. It would be tight timing, but we could do it.


    We decided that the imperial brew idea was still a go, with added nitro as a <i>strong </i>possibility for the magic side. For additional magical fun, we¡¯d wait till we heard more from Richter.


    We also reached a consensus that we didn¡¯t want to go too far. If we made some crazy magic potion thatunched you into the sky or turned the drinker¡¯s fists into stone, it would be both too expensive, and a bit <i>too</i> different from the Sacred Brew. We were <i>brewers</i>, not alchemists.


    Then the dinner rush was upon us, and questions of magical brews could hold off until tomorrow. Or at the very least till the day after, since tomorrow was our trip to go see Opal and the mysterious Tourmaline.


    I was up into the wee hours of the morning, too excited to sleep. To pass the time, I sat in my private thinking cave and practiced some magic.


    The first spell I¡¯d learned allowed me to change my personal mana into nitrogen ¡®voured¡¯ mana, and then used it to change the ¡®vour¡¯ of a nearby Aether into nitrogen.


    It worked great! But it took months to get the sigil just right, since both the input and the output sigils had to mesh together perfectly. Thankfully, as an [Otherworldly Arcane Brewer] I now had a shortcut with [Lesser Mana Crafting]!


    My next spell was going to solve the biggest issue facing dwarven-kind on Erd; I was going to see if I could magically rece <i>gluten</i>. The only sigil I¡¯d been able to find that did something simr reced the proteins in spinach with bacon proteins.


    A spell that I had to imagine existed because, why not?


    All <i>I </i>needed to learn was the sigil to change my mana into a protein, and [Lesser Mana Crafting] would do the rest. Yesiree, bacon voured beer was <i>absolutely </i>a good start.


    As I set to work learning the first few lines of the sigil, I twitched as a familiar *bing* sounded.


    <strong>New Quest: A Magical World Part 3/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Now that you¡¯ve got some magic, try learning some!</i><i></i>


    <i>Spells Learned: 1/8</i>


    <i>Rewards: Moderate Increase to Mana </i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Well, don¡¯t mind if I do! That¡¯s my second quest now with increased Mana as a reward. It took a <i>lot</i> of Mana to do anything, and if I was going to be responsible for all the magical brew we¡¯d be brewing in the future, I was going to need it. I sighed at the thought of my future as a spell battery.


    Large and in <i>charge</i>. In more ways than one! Nyuck.


    ¡ª


    The next morning found Bran, Annie, Balin and myself preparing for our trip to ckwall. Much like the first time, we put extra effort into our appearance, with our best dress-armor and a fresh shower and beardb. Annie looked quite fetching in a set of expensive mithril bracers given to her by Balin, and Bran actually bothered to swap from his chef''s clothing to a velvety ck set of leather that gave him a rather dastardly air.


    All told, we looked quite good!


    Since so many of us were going, we hooked Penelope up to the cart and drove her to ckwall.


    Unfortunately, we immediately hit a traffic jam. The main thoroughfare from the entrance of the city to Redwall was <i>packed.</i> Now that we were halfway through the year, the big events were looming, and local merchants were desperate to get their wares in. The wagons ran the gamut from small carts to ostentatious wagons simr to Whistlemop¡¯s own.


    The jam seemed to have been caused by the collision of a small vegetable cart with a pair of enormous ox-driven wagons ¨C a rarity here below ground.


    ¡°How do they imagine the city is going to hold all these people?¡± Annie asked, shaking her head.


    ¡°I dunno. Our inn¡¯s full, same as the others. I guess folk¡¯ll be sleeping in the street?¡± I said.


    ¡°Aye. But they¡¯ll get shipped right off to the reform mines if they do.¡± Balin shook his head.


    ¡°Would they really do that in tha middle of the Octamillenial, though?¡± I asked, a single eyebrow curling up. ¡°Seems a fool way to run things.¡±


    ¡°Aye. <i>Damn </i>fool way ta run things.¡± Balin agreed. ¡°Some of the adventurers at the guild are talkin¡¯ about it. Couple¡®a teams got warnings, since they couldn¡¯t find an inn, and one team got shipped out after their third warning. Cannae believe some Greybeard hasn¡¯t put a halt to it.¡±


    I thought back again to Harmsson¡¯sints. There really was a sharp divide between the haves and the have nots in Kinshasa, and if adventurers and tourists were getting picked up for vagrancy¡­


    That divide was going to fill with gasoline.


    I shivered, and thanked the Gods and Sam that we¡¯d increased the security of the tavern. Maybe¡­ maybe a panic room was in order, too? Damnit, what a terrible thing to have to think about.


    I put it out of mind as we passed the site of the ident. A trio of dwarves were in a yelling match with a somewhat familiar foul-mouthed gnome. The highwatch were doing their best to keep tempers down, but they weren¡¯t doing very well. We were just close enough to catch snippets of their conversation.


    ¡°You were on tha wrong side of tha road!¡±


    ¡°Godsdamn Minnovans! Think they cane here and drive like it¡¯s tha scree!¡±


    This narrative has been uwfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    [Tranted from Foul-Mouthed Gnome] ¡°To apologize, I have a present for your parents.¡±


    ¡°MA ANCESTORS CAN SHOVE WHAT, WHERE!?¡±


    The yelling quickly dissolved into a scuffle and several boxes were broken as the highwatch joined into the melee.


    [Tranted from Foul-Mouthed gnome] ¡°MY CABBAGES!¡±


    ¡°That gnome seemed familiar.¡± Annie said with narrowed eyes as we passed out of view.


    ¡°Small under-world.¡± I shrugged.


    Now that we were past the jam, it didn¡¯t take too long for us to reach ckwall. We were stopped by a pair of severe looking guards at the gate, and told to wait while they checked Bran¡¯s credentials.


    A short whileter the gate opened up, revealing a dapper dwarf in a ck suit.


    ¡°Ah, Mcbuttle. Good ta see ya.¡± Bran walked up and fist-bumped the butler.


    ¡°Good to see you too, Artisan Hurler.¡± Mcbuttle smiled. He bobbed his head at me, then swept his beard at Annie and Balin. ¡°And if I¡¯m not mistaken, Balin of Goldenlight and Brewer Goldstone?¡±


    Balin shuffled at the mention of his epithet, his face turning slightly pink. Annie nodded appreciatively. ¡°Yes, we are.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d please follow me. You¡¯ll need to leave your cart and goat with the guards though.¡±


    *Bleeeeeeh* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°They¡¯d better have treats!¡±


    We followed Mcbuttle through the staid streets of ckwall. I tried to tune out the snobbery and enjoy the shrubbery; the architecture here really was quite nice. The modern dwarven style felt a bit more utilitarian. Possibly the gnomish influence?


    We arrived at Bentley manor in due course, but this time we were whisked in through the main entrance rather than a side door. A wall of ck suited servants awaited us, their deft hands quickly stripping us of shoes, gloves, pauldrons, and weapons.


    I felt the loss of the Goldstone hammer on my belt and my new wand from my breast pocket.


    I should get a staff like Schist. Pull the old ¡®you wouldn¡¯t separate an old man from his walking stick, would you¡¯ trick.


    Eh, we were meeting the next closest thing to royalty, so I let it pass. Though if anyone tried to slip off my padded socks they were going to get some Pete to the face.


    The meeting room was just as we¡¯d left it, with the in unadorned walls and the single painting of an elderly dwarf over the mantle. What was different were the two dwarfesses inside it. Opal was wearing a red sequined number today, which reminded me very much of the Lord of Minnova¡¯s Elvis suit. She didn¡¯t have any bracers or helmet, but she did have a blueish-silver mithril breastte. The ensemble nicely set off her short-cropped white goatee and neck-length braided hair.


    Thedy beside her was something else.


    I¡¯d met Tourmaline Barnes before. She¡¯d been in some simple robes at the time, with the barest nod to armor. Today she looked like a bloody <i>valkyrie</i>. She was decked out in a set of te armor as ornamented as it could get while still being functional. Her tinum hair was braided up into a nest on top of her head, with curls spilling down the sides. Her beard didn¡¯t bother with anything so mundane as ornaments or knots, instead cascading down her armor in a waterfall of shining ringlets. Her skin was the slightest of browns without passing into tanned territory, and it set off her umber eyes.


    We all paused at the door to observe this¡­ this¡­


    Armored Goddess?


    Paragon of Dwarfliness?


    Ode to Follicles?


    She would¡¯ve fit right in on the cover of a Hugo winning fantasy novel, that¡¯s for sure!


    Suffice it to say that Opal had to clear her throat twice before the three of us pulled our eyes away.


    She stood and nodded her head in greeting.


    ¡°Annie, Bran, Pete, I want to introduce you to Tourmaline Barnes.¡±


    We gave our hellos, and Tourmaline shifted slightly in her chair, not rising.


    ¡°We¡¯ve met,¡± she said, firmly.


    Opal coughed into the awkward moment that followed. ¡°Yes, right. Well,e in,e in. Take a seat.¡±


    Bran moved to sit next to Opal, and the rest of us piled onto the couch across from them. Soon the coffee table in front of us was covered in confections and mugs of Barista Brew. Bran nodded appreciatively at the food ¨C he¡¯d been training the Barnes¡¯ family chef ¨C and I nodded at the brew. A good choice for a business meeting!


    ¡°Thank you so much for seeing us, ah¡­ Lady Barnes?¡± I hedged, trying to make smalltalk.


    ¡°Tourmaline.¡± She replied.


    I paused. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Call me Tourmaline, Brewer Peter.¡±


    ¡°Then, please call me Pete.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Ah yes, just as abrupt as I remembered. Last time talking about alchemy had helped her open up. I just needed to avoid mentioning her mother or anything rted to poison. Tourmaline¡¯s mother was currently suffering the effects of some kind of terrible poison, and she was researching a cure.


    I carefully crafted my pitch and tossed it. ¡°How are your studies going? Have you gotten any new Milestones? We¡¯re about to do some alchemy ourselves, you know,¡±


    Opal frowned. ¡°What have you done now?¡± she asked.


    ¡°In this case it wasn¡¯t Pete.¡± Annie smiled. ¡°As hard as that can be to believe. It was actually Master Brewer Schist¡¯s idea.¡±


    Opal blinked. ¡°From Riverside Brewery?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the one. They¡¯re our nextpetition for the semi-finals.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± Opal gave us a consoling look, and Annie and I bristled.


    ¡°We¡¯ll manage!¡± We both snapped out together. Balin fiercely nodded to add his support, but the effect was lost by the eir in his mouth and the whipped goat-cream in his beard.


    ¡°I have hit a roadblock in my current work.¡± Tourmaline replied. ¡°But I suspect I may soon ovee it.¡±


    Old Pete would have asked ¡°what are you working on¡± but current Pete knew that was a loaded question. Thankfully, dwarves were so insr where their trades were concerned that none of mypanions asked for a rification.


    Conversation moved on to the recent monster attack in Yellowwall, the Octamillenial, snippets about Riverside Brewery, and our thoughts on Kinshasa. I kept my answers as simple and honest as possible, though I was forced to dance around my feelings about the high nobility.


    Tourmaline continued to give short, clipped answers. She was bright, smart, stunningly beautiful, and as straightforward as a brick wall.


    When I judged enough time had passed, Iunched into the reason for our visit.


    ¡°Tourmaline, has Opal told you why we¡¯re here?¡±


    Tourmaline looked my way. ¡°Yes.¡±


    There was a beat.


    ¡°And?¡± I continued, somewhatmely. ¡°What were your thoughts?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to know why you want ess to the Lyceum.¡± She said. ¡°I can get you into it easily, but anything private will be difficult.¡±


    I¡¯d been afraid of that. I gave Opal a nce. Opal nodded resolutely.


    So I told Tourmaline everything.


    Well, not <i>everything</i>, everything.


    I edited the story a smidge, leaving out our interactions with Lucky Jean¡¯s, and exining away our treasure-map journal as a ¡®lucky find¡¯. Balin had been more than happy to add a story of finding the journal in Deepcore.


    As a [Toxicologist], Opal <i>probably</i> didn¡¯t have any lie-detecting Abilities, but we still yed it safe.


    When I was done, Opal sat in silence for a while in contemtion.


    Finally, she spoke. ¡°I can do it.¡±


    Before I was able to cheer, she continued. ¡°But. I have a job for you.¡±


    Great. A job. From a noble<i>. </i>Hopefully I wouldn''t have to go kill a dragon.


    ¡°You may have heard about the unrest in the city,¡± She continued. ¡°It has the potential to impact my research rather severely. You run a tavern and are privy to a great deal of information, yes?¡±


    Ah, yes, bribe the innkeeper! An old ssic! I did my best to look nonchnt. ¡°We could manage.¡±


    ¡°I require any news or information you can gather for me about a dwarf known as Lord Harmsson. I am unable to use my regr channels so I would like you to bring me word of him or his ns as you hear them.¡±


    Ugh. I would¡¯ve preferred the dragon.

 Book 3: Chapter 49: Gonna Wreck It

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 49: Gonna Wreck It</h4>


    ¡°NO. Sorry, let me rephrase that. Absolutely NOT.¡± I was rather empathic, but it was a denial that <i>needed</i> emphasis.


    Tourmaline frowned. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Prithee let me count the ways. Because he¡¯s <i>dangerous</i>. He¡¯s got a lot of powerful people on his payroll. And I don¡¯t want ta get caught up in whatever high level political games yer yin¡¯! You¡¯re a powerful noble, why do you need <i>us</i> to do it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m unable to use my regr sources.¡±


    Opal wiped her brow and spoke up. ¡°Pete, could you put some thought into it?¡±


    I slumped back into my seat with a sigh. ¡°I could. In fact, I already did. I literally just finished writin¡¯ Harmsson off a few days ago.¡±


    ¡°Are you afraid of him?¡± Tourmaline asked, curiously.


    ¡°YES.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Annie coughed and stepped in, embarrassment on her face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we can¡¯t help, Lady Barnes. Is there anything else we could do? Harmsson is a bit taboo around the Thirsty Goat right now, for a myriad of reasons.¡±


    Tourmaline gave her a small smile. The first I¡¯d seen on her tonight. ¡°Thank you for your consideration, Annie.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, we¡¯re asking for <i>your</i> help and you came all the way here to meet us. I¡¯d hate for us to be unable to do anything for you.¡±


    I nodded vigorously. ¡°Yes! Absolutely! Do you have any drinks you want? Magic? sswork?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I could cook for you fer a decade.¡± Bran put in. Opal gave him the old ¡®not now¡¯ marital elbow.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Any fightin¡¯ you need done?¡± Balin asked, straightening up. ¡°I could mebbe get help from Brighstar.¡±


    Tourmaline thought about that one for a moment, then shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re too weak.¡±


    Oof. Balin looked like he¡¯d been pped, but in the grand scheme of things it was probably true.


    ¡°Again, why do you need us in particr to do this?¡± I asked. ¡°You said you have usual channels.¡±


    ¡°I had a [Detective] doing work for me. He ran afoul of Harmsson somehow. His house was raided the other day. They injured his duck,¡± she said, anger in her voice.


    There was a sharp intake of breath from Balin. ¡°¡®He ¡®as a duck? Is he mad?¡±


    ¡°They <i>injured</i> his duck? How!?¡± Annie gasped.


    Tourmaline shrugged. ¡°He came home to find his office a mess and his duck injured. They took most of his files.¡±


    ¡°And no bodies??¡±


    Tourmaline shook her head. ¡°No.¡±


    Okaaaay. I was missing something. They were using tones andnguage reserved for those vicious monsters, Canadian Geese. Were ducks terrible monsters on Erd or something? I¡¯d need to ask when I had some alone time. Either way, it made for a good excuse, and I jumped in.


    ¡°And that¡¯s why we want nothing to do with Harmsson. <i>We </i>don¡¯t have a duck, just a goat. And a recalcitrant teenager. It¡¯s not enough, and we don¡¯t want to bring anything like that to the door of our tavern. We have customers we need ta think about.¡±


    ¡°You would not have anything connecting you to me.¡± Tourmaline said. ¡°Nobody besides Opal and the head butler know that I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.¡± I deadpanned. ¡°That won¡¯t work forever.¡±


    We talked back and forth for a while, but after a full hour, hadn¡¯te any closer to an agreement.


    Well, there were always other options and opportunities. Maybe I could ask Prophet Barnes for help? There was no way a Prophet high in the church of the Gods didn¡¯t know what the Chosen were. He¡¯d probably twigged to what I was the instant I walked through his door.


    Dammit. There were so many interactions I would need to reexamine!


    I was about to give up, when Annie interrupted. ¡°The more we talk¡­ the more I feel like I know you. Have we really not met before?¡±


    ¡°We met briefly in your kitchen when I visited Minnova.¡± Tourmaline replied, curtly.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s more than that. It feels like I¡¯ve known you for at least a couple years¡­¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t say.¡± Tourmaline shifted ever so slightly, but my high Perception caught it. What was this now? When I first met her, she''d felt somehow familiar. I hadn¡¯t been able to put my finger on it at the time, and now Annie had noticed it too?


    Annie leaned in closer, squinting. ¡°That stone wall of a face¡­ It can¡¯t be¡­¡±


    ¡°I should probably go.¡± Tourmaline began, standing, but Annie jumped to her feet and blocked her way.


    ¡°No, It <i>is</i> you! <i>Wreck</i>??¡±


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Tourmaline twitched. Beside her, Opal had turned white.


    ¡°Annie, that¡¯s ridiculous!¡± Iughed. ¡°Wreck¡¯s a foul-mouthed. muscle-brained miner, not a princess!¡±


    Tourmaline glowered at me. ¡°Rude.¡±


    I cut off what I¡¯d been about to say next. I half wanted to drink something so I could spit-take. That was <i>exactly</i> what Wreck used to say all the time, in exactly her tone and timbre. Now that I was looking for it, it was blindingly obvious.


    I gawped. ¡°WRECK!?¡±


    Balin was googly eyed, and Bran was staring at Tourmaline and Opal as though they¡¯d shaved their beards.


    Tourmaline looked up to the heavens in a ¡®Gods Help Me¡¯ gesture before nodding. ¡°Aye.¡±


    Annie sprang to her feet and walked around the table. ¡°You ¨C when you never visited after you left the reform mine, I thought¡­ I thought you never wanted to see us again!¡±


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡±


    ¡°Well, because you wanted to leave it all behind. Or something. But here you are! And you DID visit! You curmudgeon, you! Why didn¡¯t you just say something!?¡± She wrapped her arms around Tourmaline in a hug. Tourmaline went rigid, but eventually returned the gesture.


    ¡°I had to.¡±


    ¡°So <i>that¡¯s</i> why ya wanted Annie along.¡± I pointed at Opal. ¡°¡®She just wants some other girls around¡¯ indeed!¡±


    ¡°And why did nobody tell <i>me</i>!?¡± Bran grumped.


    Opal patted him on the arm. ¡°Because it was a <i>secret</i>. Nobody was supposed to know who she was.¡±


    ¡°But you did,¡± I said.


    Opal massaged her temple. ¡°Yes. I always knew. In fact, the Minnova Reform Mine was chosen specifically<i> because</i> I worked there. The Bentleys have been allied with n Barnes for millenia. Duke Barnes hired me to tutor Tourmaline a few decades ago, and she¡¯s been something of a younger cousin to me ever since. When His Grace asked me to look after her in the reform mine, I immediately agreed.¡±


    Annie pulled up an armchair to sit next to Opal and Tourmaline. ¡°Why <i>were </i>you there, Wreck? Erm, Tourmaline?¡±


    ¡°... Tourmaline. Wreck is not my real name. Though our friendship was. I hope you will still¡­ consider me your friend.¡±


    Annie reached out to give her a fist bump. ¡°Of course!¡±


    Tourmaline thought for a while, thennded on, ¡°I assaulted a noble.¡±


    ¡°Yer tha nobliest of nobles. How could <i>you </i>go to prison for hittin¡¯ another noble?¡± I couldn''t help but ask.


    Tourmaline smiled again, this time viciously. ¡°Broke his arm, actually. And his nose.¡±


    Balin choked. ¡°What did they do to deserve <i>that</i>?¡±


    Tourmaline frowned. ¡°He was a cad. And insulted my n.¡±


    ¡°Good enough reason.¡± Bran nodded. ¡°Shouldda hit ¡®im harder.¡±


    I scratched my head in confusion. ¡°But still. From what I¡¯ve seen, yer family¡¯s powerful enough that they could have dealt with it. How did you end up in a reform mine of all ces? Did you hit the king?¡±


    Opal sighed. ¡°No, but close. It was someone you¡¯ve already met, actually. Louis ckbeard.¡±


    Ahhhh. Yes, if there was one dwarf in the entire Kingdom of Crack that screamed to be punched in the face, it was that one.


    Even Balin nodded. ¡°Aye, he deserved it. You <i>should </i>¡®ave hit him harder. Saved us all a lot of trouble.¡±


    Annie gave Balin a shocked look.


    Our resident royalist shrugged. ¡°I talk with a lot o¡¯ adventurers, and they¡¯ve had some real troubles with tha¡¯ ckbeards. ckbeard¡¯s been takin¡¯ the best spots in Whitehall fer a while now, and the refugees from towns where they rule ¡®ave bad words fer ¡®em.¡±


    Tourmaline continued. ¡°The ckbeards put pressure on the courts to see me punished. Grandfather was unable to prevent the sentencing, and I didn¡¯t want him to. Thew was clear, and we should follow thew. What he could do was prevent ckbeard from knowing where I was being sent. We were afraid they would arrange for an ident or bribe a guard to make my life difficult. So, I was sent to Minnova in the guise of Wreck.¡±


    ¡°No wonder you never talked about your past.¡± Annie said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to have to lie. I¡¯ve always found it easier to say nothing.¡±


    With all the truth detecting Abilities running around, I could see that being true.


    ¡°And now that you¡¯re back in Kinshasa?¡± I hedged.


    ¡°I¡¯ve kept an eye on ckbeard. I was worried he would try something when I returned. He¡¯s vindictive and petty. But he¡¯s also too vain andzy to do more than go to parties. There¡¯s a reason he never Titled.¡±


    I put up a finger. ¡°Wait¡­ doesn¡¯t ckbeard work for Harmsson? Could that be why they went after your guy?¡±


    Tourmaline turned her eyes on me, her gaze suddenly intense. ¡°I did not know that. Where did you hear that he was working for Harmsson?¡±


    Opal¡¯s eyebrows drew together. ¡°Why would Louis ckbeard work for <i>anyone</i>? He¡¯s too proud for that.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ no, He¡¯s definitely working for Harmsson.¡± I curled my beard around a finger. ¡°But I can¡¯t reveal who told me. Let¡¯s just say that there was no real reason for my source to lie about it.¡±


    Tourmaline shook her head. ¡°You see? This is why I think you would be helpful. You¡¯ve given me information without even trying.¡±


    ¡°No ¨C what? ¨C I didn¡¯t, that doesn¡¯t ¨C ¡±


    ¡°Pete, we have to help!¡± Annie interjected. ¡°This isn¡¯t just about the treasure anymore. This is Wreck, and she needs us! How often did she have our back in the mine?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Not <i>that</i> much.¡±


    ¡°Well, she always had <i>mine</i>. Can you guarantee nobody will know we¡¯remunicating?¡± Annie asked.


    Tourmaline nodded and pulled a dragon-headed rod out from her armor. She twisted it, and with a *pop* sound, there was suddenly a boring, average, everyday dwarf wearing some business casual armor sitting there.


    It was Wreck. The disguise was perfect. Definitely better than my bargain-bin Spirit of Halloween mining getup.


    ¡°I can use this toe and visit Opal. I don¡¯t need you to do anything more than listen to gossip and share any news you hear about Harmsson or his movement with Opal. In fact, don¡¯t go looking for information, it could be dangerous.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Yeah, we wouldn''t want to get into <i>harm-sons </i>way.¡±


    But I was outvoted. Between Annie and Opal, the lovestruck idiots Bran and Balin would be on board. Richter would do whatever it took to find Lucky Jean¡¯s treasure and Johnsson loved to gossip anyway.


    I¡¯d need to have a serious conversation with Annie about how much we told Tourmaline. usible deniability, that was the key!


    All I¡¯d wanted was to gain ess to one of the most secure locations in the country for a private tour so I could steal a treasure from it. And now there were all these Godsdamnplications! I tell ya, a dwarf just can¡¯t get a break these days.


    Annie and Wreck and Balin chatted happily for a while longer while I mused over a tart, when there was a knock at the door.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Opal asked.


    Mcbuttle¡¯s voice came from the other side. ¡°Mydy, there¡¯s a bit of a problem. We need your guests toe right away¡­¡±


    Annie and I shared a terrified nce. Was there something wrong with the Thirsty Goat?


    ¡°Very well. What is it?¡± Opal stood up and motioned us to follow her.


    ¡°It¡¯s their goat. She¡¯s eating our petunias.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 50: Goats

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 50: Goats</h4>


    Penelope had somehow escaped her handlers at the gate. Then she¡¯d <i>somehow</i> found where we were and snuck into thepound without getting caught by anyone. Again ¨C <i>somehow</i>.


    We stared in astonishment as our lilly-white princess eviscerated a very expensive and well-manicured looking rose bush.


    Mcbuttle wrung his beard in flustered embarrassment. ¡°I don¡¯t know how she got away! I¡¯m so sorry!¡±


    Annie looked equally embarrassed. ¡°It¡¯s alright. It¡¯s your rosebush she¡¯s eating. Penelope! No! Bad Goat!¡±


    *Bleeeehhh* [Tranted From Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Hush! Do not disturb ady while she¡¯s eating.¡±


    ¡°So this is the famous Penelope?¡± Tourmaline, who was currently in the guise of Wreck, said. ¡°I can understand why you call her a princess.¡±


    ¡°¡®Cause she¡¯s so cute?¡± I asked, moving forward to give Penelope a pat on the head. The lovely goat gave me a mutter in return and turned her head to get scritches on the base of her horn. She didn¡¯t stop eating though.


    ¡°No. Because she¡¯s as egotistical as any princess I¡¯ve met.¡±


    Opal rounded on her [Butler]. ¡°Mcbuttle, <i>why</i> is there a goat eating mother¡¯s prize rose bushes?¡±


    Mcbuttle nched. ¡°I don¡¯t know, mdy! She¡¯s a big white unigoat! Somebody should¡¯ve seen here in!¡±


    ¡°The protective enchantments didn¡¯t catch her?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not set for animals, or the cats would set them off constantly¡­¡± Mcbuttle hung his head.


    Opal sighed. ¡°That will need to change, clearly. See what you can arrange.¡±


    Mcbuttle scratched his head. ¡°Yes, of course. What shall we do with the goat for now?¡±


    ¡°Want me ta cook ¡®er, Opal?¡± Bran grumbled.


    Opal waved thement away.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Opal, we can pay for the roses.¡± Annie muttered.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. We should¡¯ve taken better care of your little princess. I¡¯ll make aint to the gate guard. You head out, and we¡¯ll talkter, okay? Thanks Annie.¡±


    ¡°Of course Opal.¡± Annie leaned forward to give Opal a hug and did the same to Tourmaline.


    Tourmaline stiffened, but epted the hug. ¡°I¡¯ll see about getting you into the Lyceum,¡± she said. ¡°Sometime in the next two months should work. I¡¯ll let you know the next time we talk.¡±


    We said our goodbyes, got a solid hornbar on aining Penelope, then carted her, literally, back home ¨C sans Bran. We sat in silence for the first stretch; there was a lot to think about.


    As we made our way through the gates of Redwall, Annie turned to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Pete. I know you don¡¯t like Harmsson, but Wreck needs our help. You know what they¡¯ve been saying about nobles at the Goat. She <i>is</i> a noble, and all of this could have a serious impact on her. I just¡­ <i>need</i> to help her.¡±


    I scratched the back of my head. ¡°You two were really close, huh?¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°Aye. She helped me adapt to life in the mine, and was the one who got me out of my funk and encouraged me to get out early. It¡¯s thanks to her that I designed that minecart oil. Balin helped too, of course, but none of it would¡¯ve been possible without her.¡±


    Annie had escaped the reform mine early thanks to a minecart lubricant of her own design. It gave me the idea to make gunpowder, so in a way Tourmaline was responsible for us getting into the Thirsty Goat.


    I flicked the reins on Penelope to make her go faster. Sheined, but acquiesced.


    ¡°Then I guess we¡¯re helping. Nothing overt though,¡± I cautioned. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone asking questions, and <i>definitely</i> don¡¯t tell Bando about it. He can¡¯t keep a secret to save his life. Just¡­ share stuff you overhear and that should be enough. Definitely <i>don¡¯t</i> trust or pass on anything Bando tells you.¡±


    Annie bit her lip, then blurted, ¡°What should we do about Sam and Drum? Didn¡¯t you say they¡¯re working for Harmsson?¡±


    I chuckled ruefully. ¡°I¡¯m surprised ya didn¡¯t say somethin¡¯ about it right away.¡±


    ¡°I know you have a simr rtionship with Sam as I do with Wreck. What should we do?¡±


    I thought before answering. ¡°There isn¡¯t much loss in telling her who they are. They can take care of themselves, and she probably needs to watch out for them. Especially since I suspect they were the ones that went after her [Detective].¡±


    Annie started in her seat. ¡°You think so?¡±


    ¡°Aye, Drum had a nasty wound. Richter healed it up, so we can ask him if it looked duck rted. It''ll be impossible to prove though, so don''t pass that on. What in Barck¡¯s Green Pastures is a duck anyway, and why were you lot freakin¡¯ out about it?¡±


    ¡°A duck is a waterfowl slightlyrger than a unigoat. They aren¡¯t monsters per-se but they share certain characteristics, like an affinity to mana and can even form a core. They¡¯re just as vicious too, and ply the waterways and sewers all over North Erden. They¡¯re a nightmare for travelers.¡± Annie shivered. ¡°I can¡¯t believe someone was keeping one as a <i>pet</i>.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Our conversationpsed back into silence. In a short while Annie and Balin started chatting about their next work-out session, and I had some time to myself.


    There was just <i>so much</i> that could go wrong here. While we weren¡¯t <i>technically</i> spying, I could see some overzealous true believer like Bando <i>thinking</i> it was spying. Not to mention I still wasn¡¯t sure that Harmsson was in the wrong. There absolutely <i>were</i> problems with dwarven society that needed a mix up.


    But I drew the line at serious violence, which seemed to be the approaching endgame for <i>everyone</i> right now. Harmsson talked nice about his Great Charter and the Octamillenial March, but there was no way the old guard were just going toy over and take it.


    For now, I¡¯d just think of it as gossiping with an old friend. Which, of course, Wreck was. Plus, having her in our court could be helpful in the long run.


    Heh. Look at me. Decrying the tyranny of the Lords while setting myself up to take advantage of it at the same time. Hypocrite much, Pete?


    But there just weren¡¯t any other options I could see. Tourmaline was a God-approvedrade and dive teammate who was looking out for us, and all she wanted in return was for <i>us </i>to look out for her.


    Put that way, it wasn¡¯t too bad.


    We arrived at our tavern without anything else catching our eyes, and wandered in. Lovely old Rosie was busy shining the lintel, and she gave us a cheery nod before returning to work.


    Balin gave Annie a kiss then begged leave to do his afternoon axe practice.


    That just left me and Annie. The rest of the crew were nowhere to be seen, so we wandered into the brewroom to rx.


    Of course, for a pair of workaholics, resting on our day off meant discussing brews.


    ¡°Alright, Pete.¡± Annie said, as she plunked into her chair in the office. ¡°I like your imperial brew idea. Do you have anything else?¡±


    ¡°Aye, what about you?¡±


    She sighed. ¡°Not really. Honestly, these themed contests really throw me.¡±


    ¡°I can see that. To answer yer question, <i>Penelope </i>actually gave me an idea.¡±


    Annie raised an eyebrow, ¡°Penelope?¡±


    ¡°Aye. See, we¡¯re up against arger than life opponent, and that requires arger than life beer. There¡¯s only one beer from back on Earth that fits the bill. A <i>goat</i>.¡±


    Annie chortled. ¡°They had a beer called ¡®A Goat¡¯? Have I told you recently that your old world was weird?¡±


    ¡°Recently? No. Often? Yes. More precisely, it was a type of beer called ¡®Ein Bock¡¯, which trantes to a ¡®A Billy Goat¡¯. Or just <i>Bock, </i>fer short.¡±


    Annie nced over at a painting of Penelope the something somethingth up on the wall of the office and chuckled. ¡°Penelope would appreciate that. What makes it so special?¡±


    I settled into my chair for a long lesson. ¡°It¡¯s ager ¨C a Light Brew ¨C from Einbeck, in Germany. Einbeck¡¯s brewers had ager with a distinctive heavy malt vour. It was sweeter, thicker, and just more everythin¡¯ than regr Light Brew. They made it by using a heavy amount of barley malt without any other adjuncts. They also used less bittering agent than usual so the malt could really <i>pop</i>. Oh, and there¡¯s an extra stage during the brewing process called <i>decoction</i>, but I¡¯ll get into thatter.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned this Germany ce quite often in your stories.¡± Annie said, taking a seat across from me and pouring herself a barista brew. She offered me some as well and I epted it graciously. ¡°Were they great brewers, then?¡±


    ¡°No doubt they¡¯d im they were tha best. It¡¯s true that a lot of tha history of beer is centered around ¡®em.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Part of it is due to a cultural fascination with beer. They were quite like the dwarves in that way, though they were always experimenting rather than obsessing.¡±


    Annie frowned into her beer. ¡°I wish it was like that here.¡±


    ¡°Give it time. Over time, in the nearby capital of Munich, the brewers fell in love with the Einbeck style, and they adopted it with their own darker Munich malts. They couldn¡¯t quite pronounce Einbeck either, so they jokingly changed it to ¡®Ein Bock¡¯ ¨C ¡®A Billy Goat¡¯. It¡¯s now traditional to put a goat on thebel of bock beers. ¡±


    Annie took a sip from her ss, smiling under her moustache. ¡°Should¡¯ve been a chicken.¡±


    I twitched, then continued. ¡°The Einbeck style was lost in a massive fire, but the Munich bock lived on. For the contest, I thought we could try an imperial bock called a <i>doppelbock. </i>There a trippelbock too, but it¡¯d probably be too much bock.<i>¡±</i>


    Annie snorted her brew. ¡°You sound like a chicken.¡±


    I waved my arms like wings. ¡°Bock bock bock!¡±


    Annie sipped her beer. ¡°How does itpare to our current brews?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite literally so thick and meaty that it was used as food.¡± I pantomimed spooning food out of my tankard and chewing on it.


    Annie scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous¡­ you¡¯ve managed to get everyone using beer <i>in</i> food, but beer isn¡¯t <i>food</i>. Unless your crazy world managed to do it.¡±


    ¡°No, really! Doppelbocks were invented by monks livin¡¯ near Munich. They had a religious holiday called <i>lent</i> that required ¡®em to abstain from eatin¡¯ certain foods. Of course, beer wasn¡¯t <i>food</i>, so they decided to make a beer so thick and strong that it practically <i>was</i> food. They sipped on it to help keep their bellies full, then shared it with the popce in a feast when lent ended.¡±


    ¡°I <i>have </i>heard of dwarves trying to survive on nothing but beer and meat. It never ends well.¡±


    ¡°Well, no. It¡¯s not a healthy way to live.¡±


    Annie hopped to her feet and went over to her work desk before pulling out her notebook. ¡°Sounds good. What do you need to get started?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s two big hurdles. We don¡¯t have any munich malt, and yeast tends to die off at a high ABV.¡±


    Annie took some notes and nodded for me to continue.


    ¡°We have enough unique species of erdroots that it should be possible to get the malt vour right. I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ a bit of the Umber will give it a slight kick and a darker colour, maybe with some of the Kinshasa Erdroot we used for the gose.¡±


    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll call around and stock up on every kind of malted Erdroot possible. Do you have a solution for the yeast problem?¡±


    ¡°I think so. Give me a day to work on it, and I¡¯ll get back to you.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s make the first batch right after we crack the Light Brew.¡±


    We knocked our mugs together, then headed our separate ways. I had high ABV yeast to cultivate!

 Book 3: Chapter 51: He Drinks a Lager Drink

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 51: He Drinks a Lager Drink</h4>


    Two dayster we stood before the tanks of Light Brew, preparing to imbibe in the fruits of our long wait. My eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night using [Rapid Aging] and testing yeasts. After subjective <i>years</i> of fermentation and multiple generations, I now had ager yeast capable of surviving over fifteen percent ABV, and that would have to be good enough.


    Back in the old days, I was always on tenterhooks waiting for Beavermoosegers to ferment. Caroline said I was more anxious than a dog headed to the vet wheneverger racking day approached. With ales, you only had a week or two of waiting and any problems were immediately evident. Lagers were different. When you were waiting up to 5 weeks or longer for your beer, you wanted it to go just right.


    Secondary fermentation was as simple as siphoning theger from the primary fermentation tank to another tank and then disposing of, or saving, the leftover Ancestral Seed yeast cake. There was a lot that could go wrong during secondary transfer, but [Refine Brew] made any such worries a thing of the past.


    Mostly.


    Sanitisation was still an issue, but between Darrel¡¯s elementals and our own hard work it was <i>probably </i>okay.


    We were joined today by Master Brewer Schist, Guildmaster Malt, and our one-time beer inspector Master Brewer Blunt. Or as I was starting to call them in my head, Larry, Curly, and Moe.


    They really did channel the famous three stooges. From the time they¡¯d arrived, the three hadn¡¯t stopped talking about what Schist¡¯s finger smelled like. I¡­ couldn¡¯t bring myself to ask why. Annie and I were busy doing final checks on the brew and taking notes for future brews.


    Our first Light Brew turned out to be a fairly standard paleger in colouration which put it at a little lighter than a witbier. I stuck my head over the popped view-port and took a deep sniff. It had a <i>very </i>slight sulfury rotten-egg scent. The smell was caused by hydrogen sulfidepounds uniquely given off byger yeasts. The long, cold, fermentation was designed to get rid of thosepoundspletely, so their presence indicated a screwup somewhere. Thankfully, the stink was faint enough that it was <i>probably </i>fine, but we¡¯d need to let the beer ferment a little longer or cooler. That, or I could scrub it out with magic. [Rapid Aging] go!


    I activated the Ability and sniffed. Sulfur free! Gods, I loved this world.


    Annie was of course stressed out of her socks. This was a big moment for her as the first Goldstone to rack a Light Brew, and the only thing keeping her from devolving into a nervous wreck were Balin and Aqua standing behind her and muttering lines of support.


    We were also joined today by Johnsson¡¯s famous boyfriend, Dwarf Draconis. Johnsson had gotten his beard and hair done up to look like mes, and was wearing an in-vogue red sequined set ofmer armour. The interlocking tes had dark orange undersides, which meant that as he shifted and moved, the armour looked like it was flickering in the light.


    It was a neat effect.


    Draconis was wearing his usual leather pants, steel toed boots, and not much else. Fire burned in his eyes, and from the flush he¡¯d already been drinking. He looked like a BDSM lumberjack with rosacea.


    I gave a weing smile to Darrel and Rosie, who¡¯d been invited into the brewroom for this grand event. They''d been inside briefly to fetch us, but this was their first time really standing in the vast space, and Darrel was looking around with great interest.


    Bran, of course, was in the kitchen. He didn¡¯t really care, and he was busy with recipes. Kirk was out as well, dealing with ¡®family business¡¯ as he put it.


    Which left Richter as the only one not apanied by anyone. Excepting Penelope, who was curled expectantly at his feet with her bowl out. He didn¡¯t seem to mind the bachelor life, as he had his head buried in a book. He was scheduled to start sses full-time at Archis Academy next month, and he¡¯d been studying in earnest. He seemed to think that he¡¯d juggle his schooling and work, but I seriously doubted it. Time would tell, and he¡¯d promised that he wouldn¡¯t let his grades drop due to his work at the Goat.


    If it came to it, Annie and I had agreed that we¡¯d force him to concentrate on his schoolwork. Besides, all the automation meant his strength just wasn¡¯t as necessary as before.


    Copperpot and Whistlemop were unable to attend. They were both a bit too busy with their own work to, as they said it, ¡°Watch the future of our business be decided by an alcoholic animal.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Pete. I think it¡¯s time.¡± Annie murmured,ing to stand next to me. I hopped down to the floor and Annie took center stage.


    ¡°Thank you foring, Master Brewers.¡± She clenched her fists together and bowed to the trio.


    ¡°Get on with it!¡± Master Maltined. ¡°Yer fussier than a cksmith over a hunk o¡¯ Mithril!¡±


    Annie¡¯s lips thinned. ¡°Of course, Master Malt. Pete, if you would, please?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± I stepped over to the faucet and rubbed my palms together. On the ground, Penelope gave a happy bleat.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait! What about tha racking song!¡± Master Brewer Schist said in rm. ¡°Can¡¯t do a good rack without tha song!¡±


    I shared a look with Annie. Actually, he was correct, there used to be a song that Johnsson and Richter sang as they filled barrels back in Minnova. Since the new system was automated, we hadn¡¯t done it in a while. Which, now that it¡¯d been pointed out, was aplete and total shame. You¡¯d think as a fan of the greats, I¡¯d have more appreciation for song and dance in my brewing.


    ¡°Well, far be it from me to tell you that you ¡®can¡¯t get no satisfaction¡¯!¡± I gestured expansively at Master Schist. ¡°Would you care to do the honours!¡±


    *Baaaahhh!!* [Tranted From Primma Donna Goat] ¡°Why?!?! Give me my beer!!¡±


    ¡°dly!¡±


    And with that, Master Schist led us in the old racking song. It was a bit different from the Goldstone¡¯s version, with a lot more stamping of feet and stilted shouts.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Stack, Hack, Crack, Rack!


    Another batch is done atst,


    And so the dice of life are cast!


    A perfect brew is much to ask,


    When all we want is one full cask!


    Stack, Wrack, Crack, Rack!


    We¡¯ll pop the cork to test the taste.


    Then drink it down, with none to waste!


    So p your fist on oe''r yer chest.


    Don''t yer brew just taste tha best!


    Stack, Wrack, Crack, Rack!


    Never mind the sound of gold.


    Just keep brewin'' till yer old.


    Brown or grey or ck of tog.


    Come and rack this head of hog!


    Stack, Wrack, Crack, Rack!¡±


    As the song came to an end, Annie turned the valve, and sparkling clear beer poured into Penelope¡¯s bowl. It foamed gently as it filled, leaving a brilliant white head at the top. By this point, Penelope was used to the fizz, and plunged her nose through it to get at the beer.


    The assembled spectators broke into happy cheers as she continued to drink unabated, her happy pleasure evident in her gulps and bodynguage. The cheering was short lived; by this point we had so many perfect brews that seeing Penelope drinking withoutint was the standard.


    Annie began pulling a ss for the three Master Brewers. ¡°It looks like our first Light Brew is a sess! Thank you again, Master Schist!¡±


    Schist nodded eagerly. ¡°Of course, Brewer Goldstone! Now let me try some! The colouring on that is quite interesting!¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand the purpose of the goat¡­¡± Master Bluntined.


    ¡°It¡¯s just like puttin¡¯ the lucky n rock in tha tank right before you rack it.¡± Master Malt replied offhandedly. ¡°Nothin¡¯ to read into it.¡± He eagerly took his Whistlemug from Annie, not seeming to notice the stares of incredulity thatment had earned him.


    The three politely waited until Annie and I poured enough for everyone, then Master Schist raised his ss in a toast.


    ¡°To tha Sacred Brew and the hard work of its brewers!¡±


    ¡°Fer Crack and Kinshasa!¡±


    ¡°And Minnova!¡±


    ¡°CHEERS!¡±


    I happily chugged my mug. We¡¯d finally reached the point that I was looking forward to trying new beers again! Lagers were my favourite summer BBQ beer. Crisp, light, and easy on the pte. Our first Light Brew wasn¡¯t much different from beers back home. It felt simr to fizzy apple juice on the tongue, like a Martinelli¡¯s with Thanksgiving Dinner.


    The vour reminded me a bit of Pabst Blue Ribbon, though with a bit more of a licorice tang without the citrusy tang of hops. The mouthfeel was as light as the name, with barely any aftertaste.


    Overall, I gave it a 7/10. It wasn¡¯t my favourite, but it was more than adequate.


    I nced over at the three Master Brewers and had to hold back a guffaw. Master Schist was staring through the Whistlemug at the stream of bubbles, Master Malt had already finished his and was fighting with Penelope for more, and Master Blunt was alternating taking sips of the beer and muttering ¡°Unbelievable¡± under his breath.


    ¡°Does it meet your exacting standards, Master Schist?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aye, Brewer Roughtuff. Yes, it does! The vour is different from regr Light Brew, but the mouthfeel is quite simr to ours. This¡¯ll go great with a hunk of spiced sausage!¡±


    ¡°That makes sense. I¡¯ve heard through the grapevine that you have the same exacting standards and cleanliness requirements that we do.¡±


    ¡°The grapevine?¡± Master Schist gave me a questioning look.


    ¡°The goldvein.¡±


    ¡°You probably heard it from Master <i>Blunt</i>, who lives up to his namesake both in his conversation and his <i>thick head!</i>¡±


    Master Blunt looked up from his ss. ¡°Whassat?¡±


    Schist rolled his eyes. ¡°Nothing Blunt, how do you like it?¡±


    Blunt worked his jaw, practicing his words before he finally let them into the world. ¡°I like it. I <i>really</i> like it. Honestly, I like it more than yers Schist.¡±


    Schisty his hand on his chest and rocked back as though wounded. ¡°You dare, Blunt! And after all we¡¯ve done for each other! You were like a brother to me! And here youe with an axe to my feelings!¡±


    ¡°Nay, I¡¯m serious, Schist. This beer,¡± he pointed at the full fermentation tank. ¡°Is gonna be a problem. This is everything Light Brew is supposed ta be, but <i>more</i>. Folk are gonna get mad that our brews aren¡¯t as good as this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m, ah, surprised to hear you say that.¡± I said, my eyebrows up to the ceiling in shock. ¡°You¡¯re not going to wax poetic on the superiority of the Sacred Brew over this young whippersnapper of a beer?¡±


    ¡°<i>Yer </i>tha young whippersnapper here. Whatever that is. But I¡¯m also a Master Brewer, and I can tell a good beer. <i>This</i> is a <i>damn good beer</i>. And light brew was always the bastard brew anyways¡± He thumped his now empty ss down on a nearby barrel. ¡°Another pint, Brewer Goldstone!¡±


    ¡°Right away Master Blunt!¡± Annie called back.


    Schist tapped his ss, giving off a ringing noise and causing a fresh stream of bubbles to rise. ¡°I really think it would be better with something <i>spicy</i> to add a kick to it.¡±


    ¡°Peh, you¡¯ve got the tongue of a drake.¡± Blunt scoffed. ¡°Always addin¡¯ hot sauce to everything.¡±


    Schist ignored him. ¡°Brewer Peter, how do you get the bubbles to stay like that? Is it due to these odd covered tanks?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Aye. That¡¯s the biggest part of it. The bottling machine helps it stay fizzy in the bottle as well.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating¡­¡± Schist¡¯s attention peeled away from me as he left to wander our equipment, sipping at his mug.


    I nced around the room. There wasn¡¯t any insanity taking root this time, just happy conversation as folk drank their beers. Draconis had already finished his ss, and was halfway through his second. Richter was nearly done on his own, and was currently keeping Penelope at bay as she tried to get at what was left. Aqua, Annie, and Balin were chattering away about something, and Rosie and Darrel were just taking things in as they sipped their beers.


    It felt like home.


    Miss ya, Caroline. And you too, Sammy. Though it was easier brewing without a child constantly underfoot.


    There <i>was </i>Bando, but he probably wouldn¡¯t look cute running around the brewroom in a pink tutu. Hrious, but not cute.


    I raised my ss in a toast to the sky far above, to a sun hidden behind hundreds of meters of rock and stone, and a mountain that reached up into space.


    ¡°Cheers Barck. Enjoy the new drink. And screw you, gimme my soul back, you bastard.¡±


    I hummed a little Tubthumping by Chumbawamba under my breath as I drained my ss, then went to get another.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 6/16</i>

 Book 3: Chapter 52: Decocting Gravity

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 52: Decocting Gravity</h4>


    Ah, new brew day, my favourite!


    There was always something special about taking all the ingredients that you¡¯d painstakingly researched and purchased and then repurposing them to be something new and delicious.


    That was doubly true now that I was finally looking forward to trying new drinks again!


    The whole crew was in attendance, except Balin who¡¯d gone to the dungeon to fight the carp-whatever boss monster. Our hopes and prayers went with him.


    I bustled about the brewroom floor with [Crafter¡¯s Eye] activated, quickly pulling out any erdroots that appeared red in my vision and applying [Spot Clean] to any surfaces that showed the same.


    I freaking<i> loved</i> [Crafter¡¯s Eye]. From a management perspective it made everything so much quicker and easier. It was as if the universe itself had noticed my hard work up till this point and condensed all that experience and knowledge into a cheat code.


    And it could still evolve! Eventually. Blessings took much longer than regr Milestones to evolve, so it would be a while. For now, it felt like the perfectpliment to my [Minimap].


    ¡°¡®De equipment is all ready, Pete.¡± Richter called from beneath the brewing apparatus. ¡°You said we¡¯re doin¡¯ a lotta brews today, so it may need a recharge partway through.¡±


    ¡°My mana¡¯s topped off and ready fer it.¡± I flexed my arm, which of course had nothing to do with my mana.


    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t waste it all.¡± Annie muttered. ¡°Twice in one day, Pete? Really?¡±


    I pulled at my moustache sheepishly. I¡¯d been practicing spell-work almost constantly recently, and I¡¯d gone a bit overboard. Annie had found me face down on the table and groaning from Mana deprivation twice yesterday. I was still getting used to my limits, and doing magic was just <i>so much fun</i>!


    As soon as everything looked to be in ship shape, I called the team to attention.


    ¡°Okay everyone! We¡¯re doing something special today! We¡¯re going to make a kind of beer called a <i>bock</i>. It¡¯ll require a few different types of Erdroot to start, along with our Goldstone Bitters. From my earlier experiments, we¡¯re going to use a mix of Eastern and Western Erdroot, along with a <i>bit</i> of the burnt Umber. Annie¡¯s given me the go ahead to use some of the hops as well.¡±


    A bock normally used less bittering agent than a usual beer, and avoided the use of aromatic hops. As such, I was going to use one of the bittering hops that I hadn¡¯t given a name yet. It was closest to what I¡¯d consider a goodger hop, akin to the dual-purpose Perle without the more aromatic qualities usually associated with it.


    Aqua held up her hand. ¡°What¡¯s bock mean?¡±


    Annie snorted. ¡°It¡¯s an Earth word that means Goat.¡±


    Aqua sniggered. ¡°Goat beer? Penelope¡¯ll love that.¡±


    *maaah!!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°You speak of me and my most noble race! Is my beauty on your mind, peasant?¡±


    ¡°Ahem.¡± I pointed at Richter. ¡°Richter, you said you had a breakthrough on the alchemical side?¡±


    Richter nodded. ¡°Aye. Summa you may remember ¡®dat I was working with an [Alchemist] ta make beer ¡®dat glittered like gold. We seeded, but it was too expensive.¡±


    Everyone nodded. It¡¯d been his contribution to the quarter-finals brainstorming. His example beer had looked like it was suffused with kes of gold, with no change to taste or actual gold kes required.


    Unfortunately it cost almost as much as <i>real</i> gold.


    ¡°We went back to work.¡± Richter continued, puffing himself up. ¡°And I build an enchantment fer ¡®im like we made with tha Nether bottler. Except instead of Nether, it can be used ta infuse a space with a catalyst.¡±


    There was confused silence, until Kirk spoke up. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ neat? But what does it do?¡±


    Richter¡¯s face drooped with disappointment. ¡°Sometimes I ferget you lot don¡¯t know much about magic. In short, it allows the [Alchemist] ta infuse a drink without tha need of Abilities or magic. It¡¯s expensive up front, but it reduces the cost of alchemical infusions long term.¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­ quite valuable.¡± I mused.


    ¡°It is!¡± Richter thumped his fist on his chest with pride. ¡°Me partner¡¯s taken it ta be registered at city hall. He¡¯s gonna present it at the Octamillenial faire!¡±


    ¡°Have you tested it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aye, ¡®de gold effect is still too expensive, but there were quite a few other things we could do to ¡®da beer without changin¡¯ ¡®de vour!¡± Richter excitedly pulled out a notebook and flipped to the middle. ¡°For cheap effects, we made beer ¡®dat glowed, beer ¡®dat smoked, beer ¡®dat looked like it was burnin¡¯, and beers of a buncha different colours. We could probably do more too! There¡¯s no limit besides cost. We made beer ¡®dat stayed cold, but like ¡®da gold, it woulda been too expensive.¡±


    He bowed as we all pped and cheered. That did indeed sound impressive! And it had implications for gimmick or special edition beers. Like a green beer for Sainty Patty¡¯s back on earth. We¡¯d need to brainstorm a list of local holidays and how we couldmercialize them.


    Oh Pete, you dirty capitalist you.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Pete¡­¡± Aqua mused. ¡°you said that we were making a bock. How does it meet the contest requirements, and can we use Richter¡¯s new invention?¡±


    ¡°Technically, we¡¯re making a Doppelbock. It¡¯s a bock with double the alcohol content. A bock is a beer that¡¯s heavy in malt and vour, and a doppel is heavy in alcohol. It¡¯s a ¡®more an bigger beer¡¯ that¡¯ll hit like a¡­ a¡­ cart. That¡¯s all, so we could absolutely use Richter¡¯s invention too. Any ideas based on what he told us?¡±


    To my surprise, Johnsson¡¯s hand immediately jumped and I pointed at him. ¡°Johnsson?¡±


    ¡°Things went really well with Beuregardst time. We should capitalize on that. Richter, you said you could make beer that smoked and shone like fire?¡±


    I gave him a nk stare. ¡°Beauregard?¡±


    ¡°Aye? Ah, that''s Draconis¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°His name is <i>Beauregard</i>??¡±


    Johnsson frowned. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not <i>Draconis</i>.¡±


    Well, obviously. But Beauregard? I tried to square the image of a shirtless dwarf in leather pants and coated in mes with the name <i>Beauregard</i>.


    It was difficult.


    ¡°That may work.¡± Richter nodded. ¡°Two effects would be a bit more expensive than one, though.¡±


    ¡°Then let''s make some brews!¡± I cheered.


    I turned to point towards the long line of carboys that were piled up against one wall. ¡°Since this is our first time making a bock, I want to test a bunch of different ratios of grains and bittering agents. That¡¯s a <i>problem, </i>because a bock is a type ofger, it¡¯ll take at least three to five weeks before each new brew is ready to taste. In short, our beer is at <iger</i>heads with our timing! Nyuck!¡±


    Everyone smiled and nodded, but I continued unabashed.


    ¡°That¡¯s where [Rapid Aging] enters the picture. We¡¯re going to do a dozen different brews today, and then [Rapid Age] them all in carboys in the cooling tanks. That¡¯ll let us taste test a bunch of different beers in a single day, but it¡¯ll be a lot of work. So let¡¯s hop to it.¡±


    The brewroom immediately jumped into gear, as each dwarf ran to their station. Johnsson and Richter were a machine, and the erdroots were soon a pile of grist ready for the mash tun. It was dumped into the tun, and I instructed the pair to increase the ratio of malt to water, as that was the first secret to a higher alcohol content.


    When making a bock, the majority of the hard work went into the mash right at the start, so I carefully walked Annie and Richter through the extra steps. She had her notebook out and was listening with rapt attention. I really did love a serious student!


    ¡°There¡¯re two additions to the process when making a doppelbock. The first happens during the mash, and the second during mash-out. You know how we use a step method for the Barista Brew?¡±


    ¡°How can I ferget!¡± Richter groaned from where he was turning the des in the tun. ¡°Makes everything take twice as long!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna do somethin¡¯ simr. When the mash has been at tha required temperature fer long enough, we¡¯re gonna step up the temperature using a method called decoction.¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°You mentioned that the other day.¡±


    ¡°Aye. It¡¯s simple enough. All we need to do is take out some mash, and bring it to a solid boil in the boil kettle. After a while we feed it back into the mash tun to step up the temperature to the next stage. That¡¯s it!¡±


    ¡°Sounds easy enough¡­¡± Annie mused.


    ¡°Eh, yes and no. There are triple decoctions, double decoctions, so and and so forth. We¡¯re going to do a simple single decoction, which¡¯ll only add about an hour to the mash.¡±


    ¡°¡®Dey really do this fer all yer beers back on Earth?¡± Richterined. ¡°How do ¡®dey ever actually get any beer made??¡±


    Iughed out loud at that one. ¡°Oh, many a brewer has agreed with you! In modern times decoction is a bit controversial. Outside of bocks, very few beers use it anymore. Modern modified malts make the process mostly unnecessary, as they can use a regr mash for mostly the same effect.¡±


    The brewroompsed to basic chatter as the malt was turned. When the temperature and time were right, we grabbed a sanitised bucket to pull out some of the mash and then boiled it in the kettle before sending it back to the tun. A quick [Spot Clean] and a ssh of sanitiser had the boiler back in shape and ready for boiling the soon-to-be-ready wort.


    When it was time for mash-out, we fed the wort to the boil kettle, and I called for everyone¡¯s attention again.


    ¡°Alrighty! The moment of truth! We¡¯re now going to check the eventual alcohol content of the beer!¡±


    ¡°How¡¯ll you do that?¡± Aqua asked. ¡°Did you get an Ability for it?¡±


    ¡°Kind of?¡± With that, I activated [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] and revealed one of two brewing tools that I¡¯d been overjoyed to find I could summon. In my hand was a metal and stic tool that looked vaguely like a recorder flute. It was a long telescope-like tube that ended in a triangr wedge. The wedge was made of ss and had a p of ss covering it that could be levered up and down. ¡°This is a tool called a refractometer, and it allows us to guess the eventual alcohol content of the beer based on the amount of sugar in the wort. It won¡¯t work as well after it¡¯s been fermented, there¡¯s a different tool for that, but it¡¯ll help us get a baseline.¡±


    Richter held his hand out to see, and I passed him the instrument. He looked over it with interest before handing it back. ¡°How¡¯s it work?¡±


    ¡°Easy enough. I just take a drop of wort,¡± I dipped a finger into the wort, and dribbled a few drops onto the ss wedge before covering it with the p. ¡°Then sandwich it between the two ss panes. With that done, I just need to hold it up to a light source, and look through the bottom like a telescope.¡±


    I passed the tool back to Richter, who walked over to one of the light sconces and peered through the round base of the tool. ¡°There¡¯s a buncha lines and odd symbols. What are ¡®dey?¡±


    ¡°Those are numbers from my world, and the lines are a graduated measure. Do you see how there¡¯s a darker line? That¡¯s the wort.¡±


    Annie took the refractometer from Richter and looked through it as well. ¡°What¡¯s it measuring?¡±


    ¡°Sugar! A refractometer bends light based on the amount of sugar in the wort. The more sugar, the more it bends the light, and the higher it is on the scale. This particr refractometer uses something called the Brix scale.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s up about¡­. fifteen lines from the bottom. Does that mean it has 15% sugar!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯splicated.¡± I shook my head. The Brix scale doesn¡¯t trante straight to sugar, it trantes to a measurement called specific gravity which <i>then</i> trantes to sugar, and there¡¯s someplex equations involved. Normally I¡¯d use a special tool for it, but between my beer notes and [Mental Math]....¡± I flipped to my conversion notes and fired up the number crunching ability, which only took a few seconds to churn out an answer. ¡°That¡¯s a specific gravity of 1.08 and it should lead to around nine to ten percent ABV when it¡¯s all said and done. Perfect! We¡¯ll need to take some more measurements as fermentation proceeds, but we¡¯ll get to that. Great first run everyone!¡±


    There was the standard round of back pping and goat bleating, and then work resumed. With the first mash done, it was time to boil the wort, then do it all again. I wanted at least a dozen different ratios of bitters and grains done by dinnertime.


    I sang a little ¡®Defying Gravity¡¯ from Wicked under my breath as we worked. We were in for a long day of brewing.


    Marvelous!

 Book 3: Chapter 53: Bocks and Balls

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 53: Bocks and Balls</h4>


    We left the bocks to cook overnight. I could¡¯ve just used [Rapid Aging] right away, but after a full day of brewing we were all too tired to appreciate a new brew. I went to bed with visions of smoking and ming brews dancing in my head. At this point, who cared if we won or lost? I was making a magical ming beer, godsdammit!


    I popped up in the morning and got dressed up in my lounging armour while belting some <i>Good Morning</i> by the Steve Miller Band. Caroline had alwaysined that I was too much of a morning person, but I couldn¡¯t help loving the feeling of waking up and <i>revving</i> up at the same time. All I needed was some coffee and then I¡¯d <i>really</i> be going.


    The absence of a warm body next to me in the morning still grated at my nerves, but I was getting used to it. I kept a cold stone there instead.


    I waltzed into the manor-house dining room to find a bevy of battered and sauced breakfast dishes on the table. The only other two people up already were Richter and Bran. Richter was reading a book and Bran was setting up the massive smorgasbord.


    ¡°Uh, Bran?¡± I asked, taking a seat.


    ¡°It¡¯s test food for the contest. Tell me what¡¯s good and what ain¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°But, there¡¯s so much¡­¡±


    ¡°Aye. There is. You don¡¯t need to be eatin¡¯ all of it, just some of it.¡±


    I stared. There was just <i>so much food</i>. To be fair, there were quite a few of us, and we were all big eaters, but still.


    Ah well, the rest could go to the bottomless white hole that was Penelope, her weight loss regime be damned.


    I started on a biscuit covered in pulled pork drenched in a brownish cream sauce and topped by an egg. I was always a fan of eggs benedict, and this looked to be a delicious example.


    The poached egg was done perfectly, and it burst in my mouth, the tang of the egg the perfectpliment to the spice of the sauce. The faint undertones of beer came through both in the sauce and the pulled pork.


    ¡°I like this one!¡± I nodded at my te, then wolfed down another mouthful.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Bran said, ¡°but I dunno if I want to make breakfast food fer the contest. Seems a bit too limited.¡±


    ¡°It could also make you stand out?¡±


    ¡°Mebbe.¡±


    I pointed at what appeared to be some battered fish. ¡°Those the usual beer battered fish and fries?¡±


    ¡°Yes an¡¯ no. It¡¯s the usual beer batter, but this time I used some sliced beer-braised chicken breast.¡±


    ¡°Oooh!!¡± I reached over and grabbed a few, then dipped them into a proffered container of honey mustard.


    Honey mustard was the best sauce for chicken fingers, and I would willingly die on that hill.


    I took a giant bite and chewed on the beery chicken finger for a while, then pushed the te forward.


    ¡°It¡¯s too strong, Bran. It¡¯s like eating hot. mushed, beer. I¡¯m not a fan.¡±


    Bran¡¯s face fell. ¡°Aye, I thought so too. Maybe without the beer in the honey mustard?


    ¡°Hmmm, aye, or with dryer breading?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try it. How about that one?¡± He pointed at a dish covered with small, round dumpling things. They looked like filo pastries wrapped around brown filling.


    I picked one up and the shell crunched between my fingers; definitely filo pastry. It was slightly smaller than an apricot, and I could probably down it in a single bite. The smell made my stomach rumble. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I got the shell from the bakery down the street. It¡¯s filled with ground-up beer nuts mixed with sauteed goat and mushroom. I call ¡®em Bran¡¯s Nutty Balls.¡±


    ¡°Bran¡­ I¡­ ¡° I was bereft of words. ¡°We have to work on your naming sense. Or are you doing that on purpose?¡±


    Bran gave me a curious look, ¡°What do ya mean?¡±


    Richter looked up, ¡°Pass me one, sounds interestin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Never mind¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s give it a try.¡±


    I took a tentative bite, the taste of the beer chicken fingers still cloying on my tastebuds.


    The filo pastry was thin but vourful, with a hint of thyme and fried oil. It had the texture of a bava, though the taste was more savory than sweet. The inside was very much like a dumpling, with a mealy texture from the nuts. The sauteed goat and mushroom was delicious, meaty and juicy and packed with spices.


    ¡°I like it!¡± I murmured around a full mouth of balls.


    ¡°Me too!¡± Richter announced, grabbing another.


    ¡°Good!¡± Bran sniffed with pride.


    ¡°Do you have more?¡± I asked, reaching for the te.


    Bran pped my hand away and gestured expansively to the rest of the table. ¡°Nah, there¡¯s still lots more fer you to try! Until the rest of thezybones get up, you¡¯re the only ones here when it''s all piping hot! Now get to eatin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°Richter got more!¡±


    ¡°Richter¡¯s been workin¡¯ hard for an hour already! I don''t want to see me Balls in your mouth, you hear!?¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I dutifully shoveled food for the next half hour. There was beer cheese, beer sauce, beer baste, beer braise, and beer gravy. It was unbeerable! Nyuck!


    In the end though, the ¨C ugh ¨C Nutty Beer Balls were still the best. It was with a heavy heart that I told Bran he should probably consider adding beer cheese to make ¨C ngh ¨C Bran¡¯s Cheesy Nut Balls.


    Gods, it was too early in the morning for this. It would''ve been more bearable if anybody else had at least chuckled at the name, but I seemed to be the only one bothered by it.


    The rest of the crew slowly petered in over the next hour, and I left them space to eat. I had some [Rapid Aging] to do!


    ¡ª


    [Rapid Aging] was quick, and it left me enough time to do the finishing touch ¨C the nitro. My constant practice was showing fruit as I changed all the carbon dioxide in our fourteen carboys and barely even felt the pull on my mana.


    Everyone agreed the Nitro brew tasted like beer while adding a certain mystique to the vour. If Richter¡¯s alchemy contraption worked as advertised, we¡¯d have a beer like none other!


    Honestly, one-off beers and specialty beers like this were what I lived for as a brewer. Crafting beer for the liquor joints could get stale quickly, since they had all kinds of rules for what you could and couldn¡¯t do, and people had certain expectations of what beer ¡®should¡¯ taste like when they bought it at the store.


    Topensate, Beavermoose, like most craft breweries, had special brews that you could only get at the brewery itself. We used to have a Christmas dunkel that we infused with cranberries, and a summer wit that we added grapes to. They were only avable in the brewery itself; a special treat for our local customers and ourselves.


    Ah¡­ those were the days. And they were here again. I rubbed my hands with anticipation as Richter unpacked the box he¡¯d been delivered this morning.


    His alchemical infuser did look a lot like our enchanted bottle filler. It had the same ss box design with the hose running through, and the safety gaskets to prevent questing fingers. The only big difference was that it wasn¡¯t designed to bottle the liquid, but pass it through, expose it to the enchantments and the alchemical catalyst, and then send it on.


    ¡°Is this really some kind of new tech? Why? I mean, I can understand why brewers never needed anything like it, by why wouldn¡¯t Alchemists? Isn¡¯t it helpful?¡± I asked Richter as I ran my fingers over the enchantment¡¯s runes.


    ¡°There were simr designs for small batches.¡± Richter nodded. ¡°¡®Dat¡¯s what Copperpot and I based ¡®de originalher bottler off of. But, there was no need for mass production like ¡®dis in standard alchemy. Almost all potions are one-offs made wit¡¯ expensive ingredients. Ya just don¡¯t need to apply so much catalyst so quickly.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ is this a valuable invention, then?¡±


    Richter shrugged. ¡°Dunno. Alchemist Mcbottle seems ta think it could be.¡±


    I paused. ¡°Would that be, <i>Urist</i> Mcbottle?¡±


    ¡°Aye?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± At this point, between the Mcbuttles and the Mcbottles, I had to put it down to the dwarven naming equivalent of Baker, or Smith. ¡°Well, as long as it works.¡±


    ¡°It does. I¡¯ve tested it plenty.¡±


    ¡°Not on the Sacred Brew you haven¡¯t! Mayhaps its mystical Sacred properties will prevent your invention from working properly.¡± I sniggered.


    Richter gave me a tetchy look. ¡°You donnae believe that.¡±


    ¡°Who me? A staunch Master Brewer am I.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    I was impatient by the time everyone filed in, so I didn¡¯t bother standing on ceremony. It was a small crew today, with just Annie, Aqua, Johnsson, Richter, and Kirk.


    ¡°Alrighty everyone. This <i>isn¡¯t</i> the same as a regr rackin¡¯. All of these are incredibly high in alcohol, so havin¡¯ Penelope taste all of ¡®em is gonna give us a dead goat.¡±


    Aqua held up her hand. ¡°How high?¡±


    ¡°High high.¡± I waved nomittally.


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°How high, Pete? Will it actually knock a dwarf out like you said?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll depend. I need to check before Richter runs his little machine on it, just in case it changes the specific gravity of the beer. I¡¯ll give you the numbers in a second.¡±


    Saying that, I uncorked the first of the bocks. It was a deep amber colour, and had the creamy look of a nitro beer. The smell was different from any other beer I¡¯d had on Erd, with the familiar citrusy hint of the hops.


    It was glorious, and I couldn¡¯t help but close my eyes as tears sprang up. It smelled like <i>home</i>.


    ¡°You okay Pete?¡± Annie asked with concern.


    ¡°Aye. *Sniff*. I¡¯m fine. Just remembering. Speaking of which, [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]!¡± With that, I flexed my hand and a small ss cylinder popped into my palm. It contained another ss rod with a bulb on the top that rattled loosely inside. When I¡¯d tested this earlier, I''d found that as long as my intent considered the two pieces as part of the greater ¡®whole¡¯, I could summon both of them with a single use of the Ability.


    Handy!


    Of course, it made sense when I thought about it. It wasn¡¯t as though summoning my old beer journals only brought one page at a time.


    I held the item up so everyone could see it. ¡°Ta dah!¡±


    Annie was the first to ask. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Remember how I said there were two steps to determining alcohol content in beer? Tha first was the refractometer, tha second is this! A hydrometer! It can measure tha specific gravity of beer, and we can use that ta determine the alcohol content! We can also use it ta determine if the fermentation is done, by checkin¡¯ the specific gravity every day. If it doesn¡¯t change from day to day, it¡¯s time to rack. Though of course, when you have an expert brewer like myself, I can just tell.¡±


    I thumped my chest with pride.


    ¡°How does it work?¡± Richter asked with interest. ¡°It looks a lot more basic than your refractometer. Whistlemop could probably make that. Just a tube and a stick with numbers on ¡®em?¡±


    ¡°Yea, he could. That¡¯s on the bucket list.¡± I grabbed a sanitised hose prepared for the asion and siphoned some beer from the carboy into the hydrometer cylinder. The head that formed was the proper cream colour of a nitro, and I smiled with pleasure as everyone leaned in to look at it.


    ¡°It looks so unique!¡± Aqua sqeaked.


    ¡°Smells good.¡± Richtermented.


    ¡°Can I drink some?¡± Johnsson asked, reaching out with stars in his eyes.


    ¡°No! Not yet! I need to check.¡±


    Using a hydrometer was simple. I just took the stick with the bulb and dropped it into the cylinder. The bulb floated on the top of the beer, with a small portion of it sinking below the liquid level. The graduations told me the current specific gravity, andparing it to the earlier measurements from the refractometer gave me a baseline. Some mental mathter, and I had the alcohol content.


    ¡°Phew! This one has an abv of 15%! That¡¯s about ten <i>times</i> a regr old Sacred Brew!¡± I said it with cheer, but everyone looked trepidatious at my words.


    ¡°Ten times¡­.? Is it safe?¡± Annie asked.


    ¡°Should be,¡± I murmured, ¡°Just think of it as drinking ten beers at once! Who wants to try it first?¡±


    Every hand went up, plus one hoof.


    So I poured a mug for everyone, and passed them around.


    I held my whistlemug up. ¡°Cheers!¡±


    There was a moment of silence as everyone chugged their beers.


    Then a momentter a loud *bang* as Johnsson hit the floor.


    Followed by Annie.


    Followed by Aqua.


    Leaving only Kirk, Richter, Penelope and myself still standing.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice.¡± Kirk murmured.


    Richter¡¯s eyes rolled up, and he slowly toppled over. Penelope wandered over to munch on his wet beard thenpped up his spilled ss.


    ¡°Lightweights,¡± I muttered.

 Book 3: Chapter 54: ’Smokin

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 54: ''Smokin</h4>


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s biological?¡± Kirk asked as we waited for everyone to wake up. ¡°I know dwarves are weak to alcohol, but this is ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t affected.¡± I mused, poking Annie with my armored boot. She twitched but didn¡¯t wake up.


    ¡°Something about the marriage of Spirit and Spark? You¡¯re an otherworldly soul, aren¡¯t you? Could that be it?¡±


    ¡°At least until I reincarnate once. I¡¯m not sure I like the metaphysics of that. There¡¯s an actual <i>spiritual aspect</i> to the <i>sacred </i>brew? Hmmm¡­. I could ask Barck tha next time I see ¡®im.¡±


    ¡°Please tell me you realize the ridiculousness of that statement?¡±


    ¡°Oh, trust me, I do. But this isn¡¯t the first time this happened. We had a simr incident once before. I suspect this is something simr.¡±


    Beside us, Richter moaned and turned over.


    ¡°I poured them about eight ounces. At fifteen percent that¡¯s roughly equal to five or six tankards of beer. It¡¯s a lot, but not that much.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s a bit quick for that kind of reaction. Usually four to five will make ¡®em angry, sad, or happy, depending on the drunk. It¡¯s usually seven or eight for the knock out.¡± As our head waiter and prime dwarf-tosser, Kirk was intimately familiar with the exact number of beers the average dwarf could handle.


    ¡°It may be a hidden effect of one of my Abilities.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But I honestly think this is something different.¡±


    We sat around and watched everyone sleep. Penelope continued to pilfer the remaining beer in their sses until she ended back in front of me, begging for more beer.


    Finally, there was a groan as Johnsson levered himself to his feet.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a surprise. I thought for sure that Richter would be up first.¡± I grinned at Johnsson as he staggered to his feet and caught himself on a chair.


    ¡°Pete,¡± he wheezed. ¡°What did ya do to the beer?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I replied, my voice tinged with amusement. ¡°You just couldn¡¯t hold yer alcohol.¡±


    ¡°Then it must¡¯ve weighed more than a minecart of iron.¡± Johnsson leaned back and cracked his back, then his neck, then his knuckles, then his knees. He held his palm to his forehead and groaned again.


    ¡°Feeling better?¡± Kirk asked, watching in fascination.


    Johnsson frowned. ¡°Aye. Almost all better, no hangover or nothin. Yet. It felt like gettin¡¯ an entire evening¡¯s worth of drunk all at once.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± I circled around him, making notes in my brew journal as I did. His face had been flushed a moment before, but was rapidly bing a more regr pinkish hue, and his eyes were tracking me just fine. ¡°How long was he out, Kirk?¡±


    Kirk tapped his brow before answering, ¡°I¡¯d say about fifteen minutes give or take.¡±


    ¡°Suddenly drunk for fifteen minutes¡­ is that what it felt like?¡±


    Johnsson nodded vigorously, then licked his lips. ¡°Aye. It did. Felt tha buzz, then the dark. Like usual, but much faster.¡±


    ¡°<i>Too</i> fast. You shouldn¡¯t have metabolized the beer yet.¡±


    At this point the rest of the team had begun to stir as well, and we waited until they were all back up on their feet, blinking and looking around in confusion.


    ¡°Alrighty.¡± I gave my best limp-wristed golf p. ¡°Good joke, I¡¯m very impressed by everyone¡¯s follow-through.¡±


    Annie blinked at me. ¡°What?¡±


    I pointed at Aqua, who currently had her tongue out and was poking it. ¡°I know for a fact that she put you up to this, just like thest time.¡±


    Richter was holding his hands over his eyes. ¡°You mean like with the bottles?¡±


    I crossed my arms. ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Kirk asked, looking stunned. ¡°You think this was a <i>prank</i>?¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh! Last time I did something new and neat, these chuckle¡­ <i>folks</i>, chased me around the city for an hour pretending to be mindless beer zombies.¡±


    ¡°It was pretty funny.¡± Aqua giggled, then grabbed her head. ¡°Ow! My head! Or¡­ not? I feel fine¡­ why do I feel fine? Shouldn¡¯t I be hung over??¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all trying to figure out the same, Aqua.¡± Annie muttered. ¡°Richter?¡±


    ¡°Dunno? May be worth passin¡¯ on ta Opal. Could be the alcohol? Could be the hops? Who knows?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Wait, you lot were serious?¡±


    They all nodded.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    They all nodded harder, except for Penelope, who was trying to suck beer out of the hose on the carboy. I shooed her away, then regarded the grumble of blinking dwarves.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me you all drank a pitiful amount of beer, then passed out?¡±


    ¡°Aye. It was like gettin¡¯ hit with the biggest and fastest drunken ckout ever.¡± Annie nodded.


    ¡°Hold on. Does that mean Pete just invented beer that <i>knocks dwarves out!?¡±</i> Johnsson suddenly shouted.


    ¡°I think it does!¡± Aqua caught his energy, and was jumping on her toes. ¡°Dear Gods! The contest! We¡¯re a shoe-in to win!¡±


    ¡°Hooold it!¡± I held up my hand. ¡°We¡¯re not going to give this beer to <i>anyone</i> until we get it tested by Opal. If you all fainted, I want to know <i>why</i>.¡±


    ¡°But Pete!¡± Aqua began.


    ¡°No buts! It may be fun, but I¡¯m not selling something that¡¯s a possible health hazard!¡±


    ¡°I think every gnome that¡¯s caught a head-height whiff of Assster would call you a liar.¡± Johnsson muttered.


    ¡ª


    ¡°It¡¯s safe.¡± Opal put down the ingredient list and pinched the bridge of her nose.


    I¡¯d still thought it was a prank until Annie had actually sent the summons to Opal. There was no way the uptight Doctor would be roped into shenanigans. While we were waiting, the group had a sudden second wave of drunkenness <i>¨C </i>without drinking anything more. Johnsson ended up throwing up all over Penelope, and we had to use multiple Abilities to keep her from murdering him.


    This book is hosted on another tform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Dear Gods, Penelope was bloody strong!!


    Opal had arrived practically on fire, then spent a solid fifteen minutes berating us for emergency calling her over ¡°a simple alchemy question.¡±


    ¡°So what caused it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Abination of things,¡± Opal said. ¡°As you¡¯ve no doubt noticed, dwarves are weak to alcohol. That¡¯s because our livers are specialised to filter out heavy metals, and are more susceptible to biologicalpounds like alcohols. On the other hand, we have stronger pulmonary systems to deal with poor venttion underground.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that¡­¡± Annie said.


    ¡°How our bodies differ from the other races isn¡¯t usually taught outside of basic physiology.¡± Opal gestured at Kirk. ¡°Humans are tall and die young, Elves are green and nts, Dragons are scaly and powerfully magical, Gnomes are short and high energy. That¡¯s not true for all specimens of course, there can be short humans or tall gnomes, but that¡¯s as far as most education goes. Simply put, the fact that gnomes have better eyes than most races, humans have longer arms and make better swimmers, and dwarves have weak livers just doesn¡¯t fit into a general education.¡±


    ¡°Ah hah! I knew there had to be a reason!¡± I shouted, pumping my fist. ¡°But what about me? Why am I unaffected?¡±


    Opal looked down her sses at me, an impressive feat without sses. ¡°You¡¯re a reincarnated Chosen of a God. You¡¯re just a freak.¡±


    ¡°Oh, <i>thank you</i>, <i>Doctor</i> Opal.¡±


    Opal frowned. ¡°Yes, well. It wasn¡¯t just the alcohol. That other nt you put in it, <i>Pineweed</i>, has a soporific effect when mixed with strong alcohol. Dwarves are especially susceptible to it for the same reasons as mentioned before.¡± Opal proimed, pointing at one of the sacks of hops.


    My jaw went ck. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±


    ¡°No, not at all. Though it doesn¡¯t have much use in medicine as it doesn¡¯tst very long and makes you feel drunk. And why didn¡¯t <i>you</i> know this, Richter, you could¡¯ve told him.¡± Opal nailed him with a re. ¡°Aren¡¯t you a [Healer]?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been focusing on my enchanting studies.¡± Richter blushed, looking over at his enchanted infuser.


    ¡°And it¡¯s safe?¡± Annie asked with stars in her eyes.


    Opal nodded. ¡°Why¡¯d you put it in your brew in the first ce?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s something from back home¡­?¡± I assayed.


    ¡°You¡¯re in another world now, Peter. Even if you <i>know</i> it¡¯s the same ingredients, you should check that it actually works the same.¡± She rapped me on the head and I rubbed the spot ruefully.


    I absolutely <i>had</i> assumed that identical ingredients would work identically. I¡¯d had alchemists check every other ingredient, like the jelly finings, but the hops were so basic I hadn¡¯t bothered. I wouldn¡¯t be making <i>that</i> mistake again. ¡°That¡¯s the thing about assuming. It makes an ass out of you and me. Would it count as drugging people?¡± I asked with trepidation.


    Opal thought about it for a while. ¡°ording to Country of Crack Ordinances, Chapter 16, Section 3, anyone drinking beer is doing so expecting to be drunk and cannot take offence against the maker of the beer for doing so. Based on your description, the feeling was identical to bing drunk, yes? I¡¯d reduce the amount in the brew, but It should be fine as long as you put a warning on the bottle. Can someone show me?¡±


    Johnsson jumped at the opportunity and chugged a small ss.


    And then immediately copsed to the floor with a happy smile on his face.


    ¡°Is that bad for the liver?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, our livers are bad at filtering out alcohol, but still hardy, and a trip to a [Healer] once a year deals with any minor organ damage.¡± Opal considered the bottle. ¡°How long was he out?¡±


    ¡°About half an hour?¡±


    ¡°I have time.¡± And with that she poured herself a sleeve and drank it down.


    Leaving us staring at two dwarves snoring peacefully on the ground.


    ¡°Now what?¡± Annie asked.


    My gaze grew wicked. ¡°Go get me a pen. It¡¯s time Johnsson learned why you should never be the first to get ckout drunk at a college party.¡±


    ¡ª


    While we waited for Opal and Johnsson to wake up, we began taking <i>very</i> small sips from the other carboys. The hop-less batches were actually the <i>least</i> popr, which made me quite happy. The favorite had an alcohol content of roughly eleven percent with a lighter touch of hops. It still knocked people out, but it took a <i>full </i>tankard rather than a couple mouthfuls and it onlysted a minute.


    Richter took charge of the chosen brew, excitedly running it through his infuser. The runes glowed and the beer flowed. What emerged from the other end looked unchanged.


    At least until we poured it.


    ¡°It¡¯s smoking. And looks kinda¡­ fiery?¡± Johnsson muttered, peering into the mug. ck clouds billowed from it into his face and he coughed.


    *Snrk* ¡°Aye, it is.¡± Richter replied.


    ¡°It looks *hee* strange.¡± Aqua held back a giggle.


    ¡°What¡¯re you allughin¡¯ at?¡± Johnsson asked, looking around in confusion.


    ¡°Nothin¡¯.¡± I deadpanned. ¡°How long will it smoke for, Richter?¡±


    Johnsson pulled back from the smoking ss and rubbed his eyes. His beefy fingers <i>just </i>avoided smudging the enormous silly sses I¡¯d penned onto his face, and the grumble heaved with barely constrainedughter.


    Opal had taken one look at his face and absconded to check herself in the mirror. Not that I¡¯d be stupid enough to prank the fiance of the severe dwarf that cooked my meals.


    Richter caught his breath and continued. ¡°It¡¯ll smoke for ten minutes after being exposed to air, but that¡¯s not the best part.¡±


    He took a sip of the beer, swished it around, then opened his mouth and blew out a small smoke ring.


    ¡°Oooh, the pipe smokers will love that!¡± Aqua cooed. ¡°Me mum is one, and she can do some really neat smoke rings!¡±


    ¡°Can we afford the ingredients?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Can we ¨C Pete, you¡¯re <i>rich</i>!¡± Annie growled.


    ¡°And I¡¯d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.¡± I sniffed. ¡°Those reinforced front windows and doors cost a <i>lot</i>.¡±


    ¡°Aye, it¡¯ll be cheap enough with this.¡± Richter caressed his invention.


    ¡°What¡¯s it look like if you drink the whole mug?¡± Kirk asked. ¡°Will you just¡­ keep smoking, like a volcano?¡±


    ¡°Pete can check.¡± Richter motioned to me, and I dutifully took the mug and drained half the mug in a second.


    Kirk pped, but Annie just shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m still not used to that. Can you even taste it?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it tastes *cough* great.¡± As I spoke, I coughed a plume of smoke, which led to more coughing. ¡°Agh, maybe draining it isn¡¯t the best idea.¡±


    I took a single gulp at a time until the mug was empty, and then spun around to blow a stream of ck clouds in a wide arc. It was a smoke machine, but from my <i>mouth</i>. ¡°Haha! This is great!¡±


    ¡°Let me try!¡± Aqua shouted,ing forward.


    ¡°Me first!¡± Johnsson cried, pouncing.


    Aqua shoved him back. ¡°You should wash your face first, you filthy animal!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± He ran to look at his reflection in the boil kettle. ¡°Agh! Me Face! Aqua, you beardless bastard! May you stub your toes forever!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me!¡±


    ¡°Yearn¡¯s yams, it wasn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my invention. Me first.¡± Richter grabbed a tankard and downed it. He coughed ck smoke once, like something out of a looney tunes cartoon, as his eyes promptly rolled up into his head and he passed out.


    As the grumble devolved into wrestling, a familiar *ding* sounded.


    <strong>Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 7/16</i>


    Annie watched from the side, a look of contentment on her face. ¡°Looks like we have a keeper, Pete.¡±


    ¡°For a beer that hits the hardest? Absolutely. And I can think of a great name.¡±


    ¡°Do tell? And it¡¯ll need to be better than <i>Assster</i>.¡±


    I ignored the jibe. ¡°The first doppelbock was made by the Paulener monks, and was named ¡®Salvator¡¯. From that point on, it¡¯s been a tradition to call doppelbocks ¡®something - ator¡¯. Given that our new beer gives a fire-ish breath, I was thinking we could call it <i>Dragonator</i>.¡±


    ¡°Since when did you make allowance for tradition??¡± Annie tittered.


    ¡°Since it required a kick-ass name like ¡®Something-ator¡¯. Do keep up.¡±


    I hummed some <i>Believer</i> from Imagine Dragons as Johnsson and Aqua began fist fighting.


    <i>Dragonator</i>.


    Look out Riverside, herees the dragon!

 Book 3: Chapter 55: Unorthodox Fishing

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 55: Unorthodox Fishing</h4>


    Three days of whirlwind brewing and extensive use of [Rapid Aging]ter, and we had our final beer. It was a variation on the original favourite with a slightly lower alcohol content and a mix of two different bitter hops variations. Everyone agreed that one mug needed to be enough to knock you out, but it had to be a <i>full mug</i>. Richter was able to handle about a whistlemug-and-a-half of the final mix, and Aqua was just <i>barely</i> unable to finish one, so it seemed a happy medium.


    Our ratios selected, we had just enough time to set somerge scale tanks to ferment normally.


    That left three weeks for us to prepare for our dual announcement with Schist.


    There was lots to do, lots to do! There were bottles and branding to prepare, ad campaigns to brainstorm, and political dissidents to spy on! I also had my gluten-to-bacon spell sigil to practice, and a new set of homework on the esotera of basic dwarven biology.


    Yesiree, I was a busy dwarf!


    Which was why I couldn¡¯t fully understand how I found myself down on the Redwall docks near Riverside Brewery with Master Brewers Schist and Herder.


    Fishing.


    <strong>New Quest: Fisherdwarf 1/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Shouldn''t you be brewing?</i><i></i>


    <i>Catch 16 Fish</i>


    <i>Rewards: +0.2 Dexterity, +0.2 Vitality</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I epted and stared nkly at the white wooden bob as it pulled away in the pitch-ck river. Down here at the water, Darkwater river was wide, with plenty of space for boatsing up and down stream.


    The docks were made of a dark yellowish wood, and ran from the cliffside roughly halfway into the river. They stretched for at least half-a-kilometer of hustle and bustle. They ran straight into the stone of the walls, where a series of scaffolds and ramps etched into the rock led back to the top of the cliff far above. The stone in question nted slowly inwards as it rose, which meant it felt like we were under an enormous stone roof.


    This was the widest section of the Darkwater river, which meant it had the slowest flow. There was a definite current, but the eddies were best described aszy. It was a far cry from the crashing waters below Scout¡¯s Crossing. The smell down here was of stone and wet. My old monkey brain would¡¯ve been sweating but my new beardy brain <i>loved</i> it.


    We weren¡¯t the only fisherdwarves out today, and fighting for the best fishing spots was fierce. This traditionally peaceful activity had surprising vtility when beer and dwarves were added to the mix.


    I shook my head as another scream and ssh came from upstream. I¡¯d caught two sodden dwarves on my hook in just the past hour.


    ¡°Think Pete¡¯ll be the one to catch ¡®em again?¡± Ironbellows Herder asked. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was serious or ribbing me.


    ¡°We sure <i>he¡¯s</i> not the Lucky Herder?¡± Schist snickered as he yed his line.


    ¡°Considerin¡¯ where he needed to remove thatst hook from, I¡¯m pretty sure the Luck of Barck has passed him over!¡±


    ¡°Aye, like the fish have passed him under!¡±


    The pairughed at my difort, and I hunched my shoulders.


    ¡°Remind me why I¡¯m doing this again?¡± I grumped.


    Schist raised one white eyebrow. ¡°Because it¡¯s what you get fer trying to spy on my brewery?¡±


    Ironbellows waggled his. ¡°Because you love mypany?¡±


    We all returned topanionable silence as we waited for a hungry fish to bite, a passing beard to snag, or a forgotten boot to catch. Was that a nibble?


    Nope, more nothing.


    On the pier next to us, a trio of fisherdwarves broke into song. They were soon joined by more, their ribald hoots and hollers bouncing off the sloping overhang of the cliffside and echoing something awful.


    Listen up you sailors!


    I¡¯ve got a tale to tell!


    About a dwarf named Taylor


    An¡¯ what he caught as well!


    One day a dwarf was fishin¡¯


    Down on the riverside,


    Ya think he could imagine,


    What rney would betide?


    He cast and cast and cast all day


    With naught a single bite!


    And in a fit picked up his mug


    And tossed it out of sight!


    So pour one out for the guppies!


    Pour one out for the trouts!


    Pour one out for your buddies!


    Ya selfish oafish louts!


    The tankard hit the river


    And made a mighty spout!


    The beer ran in the water,


    T¡¯was drank up by some trout!


    Ol¡¯ Taylor rubbed and rubbed his eyes


    His ass, it met the ground


    When drunken fish hopped on the bank


    Askin¡¯ another round!


    So pour one out for the guppies!


    Pour one out for the trouts!


    Pour one out for your buddies!


    Ya selfish oafish louts!


    So as you cast yer line out


    With nothin¡¯ for to show


    Mayhaps ya pour yer beer in


    This content has been uwfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    And then the fish will flow!


    Won¡¯t hook ass with water


    Won¡¯t please ad with milk


    Even fish know better


    Than beerless, beardless ilk!


    So pour one out for the guppies!


    Pour one out for the trouts!


    Pour one out for your buddies!


    Ya selfish oafish louts!


    The singing broke intoughter and jeers. At the next quay, a fisherdwarf began swearing up a storm as he caught a sodden dwarf on his hook.


    I shook my head and pulled at my line. What was I doing here?


    After four days of being cooped up inside studying and brewing, I¡¯d reached my limit. While I¡¯m a lover of all things brewing, I¡¯m also a lover of touching grass. Or stone, in this case.


    All work and no y drives a Pete barking mad.


    With all the fermentation tanks full, the tavern smoothly run by the Diggers, and everyone busy living their lives, my onlypany was Annie, and on any given day she was ready to kill me by noon.


    So I¡¯d naturally gone to find the only dwarf in the city I knew for sure had nothing to do ¨C the brewer I¡¯d just neatly removed from thepetition.


    Lucky Jean¡¯s was much as I¡¯d remembered it; rickety and filled with peanuts. Master Brewer Ironbellows Herder had received me into his study as before, and we¡¯d shared a mug of his gem-finder beer. I had no ns to find gems, but I couldn¡¯t turn down the opportunity to drink a new beer straight from the tap.


    It¡­ tasted like Sacred Brew. Unfortunately. It also granted me a condition called [Lesser Gem Luck] which boosted my chance of finding gems.


    Thankfully, there were no hard feelings. We¡¯d won fair and square, and I was the Chosen of a God wasn¡¯t I, so what shame was there in losing?


    He <i>was</i> bitter that the gem miners had turned on him so thoroughly when the price of gems fell. How was it his fault? Hadn¡¯t they all found so many gems thanks to him in the first ce?


    Our talks had then migrated to the current round, and our bet with Master Brewer Schist. Ironbellows had been aghast to learn that I¡¯d never <i>had</i> any Riverside beer, and promptly brought me straight to the source to try.


    Riverside Brewery actually was on the riverside, built into the rock wall at the far end of the docks. It reminded me quite a bit of the Digger¡¯s old hole in the wall ¨C it had a single entrance right on the dock with a fancy wooden door. The inside was very mine-deco, with stone alcoves and pic tables scattered around sunken drinking spaces.


    The atmosphere was akin to an English pub; the people were there to do more than drink, they were there to have a good time and be merry.


    Unfortunately, Schist had spotted us as we¡¯d entered. He¡¯d immediately grabbed us, a case of Riverside Light Brews, and a trio of rods, then marched us up the dock. He¡¯d kicked a pair of fisherdwarves out of his favourite spot, and here we were.


    I took a hand off my rod and picked up a bottle sitting on the piling next to me. It was a standard clear beer bottle, with an orange picture of a fish jumping in front of the sun emzoned on it. Thebel proudly proimed ¡°Riverside Brewery Light Brew.¡±


    I took a sip and swished it around my mouth. It was¡­ not great, but not awful. It had a clean mouthfeel, without any of the grime I associated with traditional Light Brew, and had an aftertaste that reminded me of summer in the Okanagan.


    The feeling of standing on the river, a fishing pole and brew in hand, was the harshest reminder of Earth that I¡¯d had in a while. I¡¯d gone fishing every summer with Sammy on the banks of the Shuswap. She¡¯d hated it the first few years; It was too <i>hot</i>, it was too <i>cold</i>, the fish <i>weren¡¯t </i>biting, the mosquitos <i>were </i>biting.


    Over the years theints had turned into chats about horses, then books, then boys, then university. We¡¯dst gone fishing the summer before I¡¯d¡­ died. We¡¯d talked about Sammy¡¯s new job, and our ns for the empty nest.


    All pointless now.


    Caroline hated fishing. But of course she always loved the fish we caught. Especially if it was salmon; she made the meanest salmon casserole¡­ I wonder if they¡¯re doing okay without me? Has Caroline remarried? I told her not to get stuck on me. Is Sammy still at her first job, or has she already moved on? Have they forgotten me? What about my friends? Are they visiting my grave? Do I <i>have </i>a grave? I¡­ I¡­


    Schist¡¯s voice broke into my thoughts. ¡°Are you alright, Pete?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I raised a hand to my beard and it came away wet. Snot was dribbling down my moustache. I pulled out a hanky and blew into it. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ just remembering the past. I always used to go fishing with my daughter.¡±


    Schist nodded, a sad look on his face. He was an old dwarf, and he knew better than to ask someone what they meant by ¡®used to¡¯.


    ¡°I lost ¡®em a couple years ago,¡± I continued. ¡°My whole family. Me wife and daughter. I¡¯ve been pourin¡¯ meself into me work, trying not to remember. Trying not to think about it. It¡¯s worked well. Gods above, it¡¯s worked well! I¡¯m nearly the greatest brewer in Crack! But¡­ sittin¡¯ here, in the quiet, it reminds me so much of them.¡±


    I broke into sobs then. Muffled and quiet. The two master brewers let me cry, my tears dripping down to be swept away by the river. I hadn¡¯t had a cry like this in ages, not since beforeing to Kinshasa, and it felt good.


    Eventually, Master Schist spoke, ¡°I never wanted to be a brewer. My older brother was meant to take over the Brewery from father. I wanted to be an adventurer. To stalk the beaches of Whitehall and gain fame and infamy as a great fighter and greater lover. Then, my brother got hit in the head by a boom on the docks. He was probably dead before he hit the river, though we never found his body. My father died soon after of a broken heart, and Mum¡­ Well, she was tough as the rock she was named after, but even she went to join the ancestors a couple decadester.¡±


    He toasted his bottle to the sky.


    ¡°I started brewing in their memory, but I love it now. The feel of the grist. The smell of the malt. Watchin¡¯ the bubbling Ancestral Seed. Ordering'' my apprentices around and watching them jump when I catch them ckin¡¯. Hah! And I was bad at the start! My first brew was so awful that when we poured it into the river, the fish all died! They popped up like gnomes at the smell of coffee in the morning! Pop! Pop! Pop!¡±


    We roared withughter at the image, and I took another swig of beer.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot better now,¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°Aye, that it is. That it is. Best in the city I¡¯m told.¡± He smirked at me, and I gave an edged smile back. He pulled some strips of jerky from his pocket and offered them out. I gave a thankful nod and took a bite. I immediately retched and swore; it was <i>nose puckeringly </i>spicy, and my weepy eyes didn¡¯t help. Meanwhile, Schist chewed on his share like it was nothing.


    ¡°I kind of fell into brewing,¡± I choked as I swigged from my bottle. ¡°I was good at it, and then it ballooned from there. My wife, Caroline, helped me build our first brewery. My family was part of my brewing every step of the way. I¡¯m so incredibly thankful to Balin, and Annie, and the rest at the Goat. I don¡¯t know if I would¡¯ve had the strength to do this all on my own. Check that, I¡¯m positive I wouldn¡¯t ¡®ave.¡±


    We both turned to look at Ironbellows, who was gagging into the river. He caught his breath and frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t have any stories. Me family¡¯s alive and well back East running the original Lucky Jean¡¯s. I was born a brewer and I¡¯ll die a brewer.¡±


    ¡°Booooring.¡± I intoned.


    ¡°Lucky Herder bastard.¡± Schist grumbled.


    ¡°Oy!¡±


    Weughed again, and I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders. This. This was why I was here. This quiet moment of nothing but reminiscence, beer, andughter.


    And background swearing as another fisherdwarf was dredged from the river.


    It was perfect.


    ¡°Schist, that jerky¡¯s vile. I can still taste it. Do you really serve that in your pub?¡± Ironbellows eventuallyined.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with it?? Aaron¡¯s min¡¯ Jerky is one of our most popr snacks!¡±


    ¡°Ugh, give me peanuts any day.¡±


    ¡°What about you, Pete, do you have your beer made yet?¡± Schist asked, nonchntly.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t <i>you</i> like to know!¡± I sniped.


    ¡°Aye, I would, but <i>I¡¯m</i> not the one spying!¡±


    ¡°It was a friendly visit!¡±


    ¡°A friendly visit my arse! You''re lucky I didn¡¯t set my customers on you!¡±


    We bickered as the day went on and the river flowed, and some of my worries flowed away with it.

 Book 3: Chapter 56: Therapy

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 56: Therapy</h4>


    Aqua tapped a pen on her notepad as Iy on the couch across from her in the Goat¡¯s office. She was dressed in a formal suit of armor for the day, more akin to my usual dress armour than her preferred flowing dress with armored ents.


    I was in a set of casual leather shorts and a gambeson. Comfort was the word of the day.


    ¡°Why the couch?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s traditional.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ oh, you mean Earth traditional. They really lie down on couches while they get therapy?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting. I may try that with my other clients.¡±


    ¡°You could be a [Chaise Hypnotist]. How many clients do ya have now?¡± I asked nonchntly.


    ¡°More than ten and less than a thousand.¡± She smirked.


    ¡°Come oooon, that¡¯s not something you need to keep secret, you can tell me.¡±


    ¡°A good [Hypnotist] never reveals anything about her clients!¡± Aqua gestured expansively. ¡°I have an Ability for that!¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. I did notice that you haven¡¯t been talking as much recently.¡±


    Aqua groaned. ¡°Ugghhh, it¡¯s a <i>pain</i>. I¡¯m going to start joining Johnsson on his trips to the beardy parlour just so I can pick up some juicy gossip.¡±


    ¡°And maybe meet a nice buff wrestler yerself?¡± I waggled my eyebrows.


    She waggled hers back. ¡°Aye, or maybe a dashing noble with an eye for blue beards and high intelligence.¡±


    ¡°At least you¡¯ve got the blue beard!¡±


    ¡°Do you want this therapy session or not?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I do, Hypnotist Aqua. I really do,¡± I sighed.


    Her voice grew insistent. ¡°And are you sure you want <i>me</i> to do it? My profession usually doesn¡¯t perform on family members or friends. It can be awkward.¡±


    I tapped my head. ¡°Ya really think I can take <i>these </i>secrets to any old [Hypnotist].¡±


    ¡°You could get someone with [Keep Secrets], like me. That¡¯s why it¡¯s such a popr Ability.¡±


    ¡°Not good enough. You have to know there¡¯re ways around it if you get desperate enough.¡±


    Aqua shrugged, surrendering the point. ¡°Most [Hypnotists] aren¡¯t strong enough to see your memories. That¡¯s a high level Specialization. They help <i>you </i>see your memories, and help mend any damage to your Spirit through abination of therapy and Abilities.¡±


    ¡°Like Healers, but fer tha mind?¡±


    ¡°No, the Spirit is a good deal moreplex than the Spark, and where a [Healer] can just Ability away a broken limb, a [Hypnotist] can¡¯t simply vanish trauma without changing who you <i>are </i>at a fundamental level. Spirit healing has to be something <i>you</i> do.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Sounds good to me. Let¡¯s get started!¡±


    ¡°Very well. Peter Roughtuff, do you consent to me using Abilities to calm you and give me permission to manipte your mind?¡±


    I settled my back into the couch. ¡°Sure, as long as you¡¯re not a beardless bastard about it. I¡¯ve had some issues with those. Y¡¯know, you never <i>read </i>about transdimensional travelers goin¡¯ in fer therapy, but Gods, so many of ¡®em need it. They¡¯re always dark and broodin¡¯ and have the social graces of a stone wall.¡±


    Aqua began writing in her notepad. Her voice gained an odd timbre as she spoke, likely her newest Milestone [Soothing Voice]. It tickled my brain in all the right ways. ¡°Oh? And what finally made you decide to do it?¡±


    *ding!*


    <strong>Condition Gained: [Calm]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>You have gained the [Calm] Condition!</i>


    My shoulders slumped and my breathing grew just a bit easier. It felt like I¡¯d just spent an hour listening to The Eagles¡¯ greatest hits while rxing in a hot bath. Just <i>Take it Easy </i>Pete. Therapy only works if you don¡¯t fight it.


    ¡°I had a breakdown while I was fishin¡¯ with Schist and Herder yesterday,¡± I exined. ¡°All my memories from back home came floodin¡¯ back, and it absolutely wrecked me. I woke up this morning a mess.¡±


    ¡°What kind of memories?¡±


    I closed my eyes, and listened to the sound of my heart beat. *Thump* *Thump*


    I spoke the memories aloud as they came to me. ¡°The feel of my wife lying in bed beside me in the morning. The scent of spring grass. My daughter¡¯sughter.¡± I choked, and my heartbeat grew faster *ThumpThumpThump*. ¡°Caroline¡¯s salmon casserole, riding my bike through the foothills. The feel of the sea breeze ruffling my hair and the sun on my skin ¨C ¡±


    Tears sprang up under my eyelids again, and I found myself weeping. My voice came out in a wheeze.


    ¡°It¡¯s been three years, and I thought that I was getting over losing everything. But, the moment I slipped back into the past I just¡­ fell apart. Gods, I feel weak. Wreck ¨C Tourmaline was right, I <i>am</i> weak.¡±


    Iughed bitterly.


    Aqua passed me a hanky. ¡°Do you often have shbacks of Earth?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say not, not recently.¡±


    ¡°Have you been holding your memories of Earth back? Trying not to think about them?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know? I absolutely think about Earth from time to time. But not on purpose.¡± I blew a massive snot monster into the hanky. ¡°Uh, sorry.¡¯


    ¡°Just keep it. What pops to mind first about Earth.¡±


    ¡°My family.¡± I said instantly.


    ¡°Mmm¡­. Family is more of a <i>concept</i> than a memory. What <i>memories</i> pop into your mind.¡±


    I closed my eyes. I could see Caroline and Sammy¡¯s faces in my mind¡¯s eye with ease. But it was surprisingly difficult to dredge up any important memories.


    I focused, thinking back to my wedding. We¡¯d held it at the local Anglican church. Neither of us were Anglican ¨C Caroline was raised Protestant ¨C but they had the longest aisle and a big organ. Caroline had worn a v-back white gown with lots ofce on the bottom. Her radiant smile as she¡¯d walked down the aisle was burned into my very soul. She¡¯d wanted a traditional wedding march, but she''d walked too fast, and the organist barely got to ¡®herees the groom, skinny as a broom¡¯ before she was at the altar. Sheined about that for <i>years</i>. med me for distracting her with how handsome I was. The memories flooded in faster and faster. The reception, the dancing, the wine bar.


    As I remembered, I smiled, and it came out strained. I realized with shock that I was crying again.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Aqua waited for me to collect myself. ¡°What were you remembering?¡±


    ¡°My wedding.¡±


    ¡°Was it vivid, or dim?¡±


    ¡°Quite vivid. Especially given how long it¡¯s been.¡±


    ¡°Did the memorye gradually or all at once?¡±


    ¡°All at once.¡±


    She wrote some more notes with a *Scribble*. ¡°When you were out fishing, you said your memories ¡®flooded¡¯ back. Did theye one at a time, or in a wave?¡±


    ¡°A wave.¡±


    ¡°Was it the memories themselves that were overwhelming, or the sheer amount?¡±


    ¡°... Both, I think. But more the memories. They were just¡­ so strong.¡±


    She penciled some more into her notepad, then crossed her legs and gave me a serious look. ¡±Pete. Would you say you¡¯ve been suppressing your memories of home?¡±


    ¡°No. I ¨C¡± I stopped, and thought about it for a few minutes. Aqua watched me in silence, not even writing in her book.


    Eventually, I spoke. ¡°You could call it that, I guess, but I wasn¡¯t trying to forget. Just¡­ not think about it.¡±


    Aqua smiled sadly. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what suppressing <i>is</i>. It¡¯s one of the mostmon Spiritual disorders that [Hypnotists] deal with. It¡¯s <i>normal</i>.¡±


    She patted me on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re trying not to remember something painful. And that¡¯s okay.¡±


    I sniffed. ¡°I¡¯m taking one star off my review for the unsolicited physical contact.¡±


    Aqua¡¯s hand froze and she withdrew it with a frown.


    ¡°And you¡¯ve been using a flippant attitude to redirect that pain.¡± She shot back.


    I smirked. ¡°Is that a diagnosis from my therapist or a riposte from a friend?¡±


    ¡°A dwarfess¡¯s observation.¡± She resettled herself and put her [Calming Voice] back on.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to use two Abilities on you. [Inner Sight] and [Sense Emotions]. [Inner Sight] will help you experience a powerful old memory, and [Sense Emotions] will let me sense what you¡¯re feeling. I won¡¯t be able to see your memory, but I¡¯ll be able to read your emotions.¡±


    I rxed into the couch and closed my eyes, then nodded.


    *ding!*


    <strong><i>Milestone Used</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>A [Hypnotist] is trying to use [Sense Emotions] on you.</i>


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <i>*ding!*</i>


    <strong><i>Milestone Used</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>A [Hypnotist] is trying to use [Inner Sight] on you.</i>


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I epted both prompts.


    Then, I fell.


    ¡ª


    I arched my back, which cracked with a stato of pops, then grunted in pain and grabbed my hips.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting old, old man.¡± The voice of my darling wife jibed from my left.


    The hot sun of the Okanagan beat down on my back, kept off by abination of SPF 60 sunscreen and a white no-name wifebeater. I adjusted the basket full of grapes on my hip as I turned a baleful eye on my traitorous spouse.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mock you when your knees hurt.¡± I pointed at her kneepads.


    ¡°Well, maybe you should get kneepads of your own. And bend with your knees, not your back.¡±


    I shoved her, she elbowed me, I knocked her knees out with a kick. She yanked me down with her. We rolled around in the dirt,ughing, y fighting, and proiming various aches and pains.


    Ourughter eventually devolved into kisses. After all, Sammy was at college and we were the only ones on four acres of vineyard.


    It was one of many heady, idyllic summers in the balmy air of Beautiful British Columbia.


    My <ist</i> summer.


    ¡ª


    I came back to myself with a start. This time the memory had been strong, but not as sudden and overwhelming as before. It was more like living it again than simply remembering.


    I shivered. ¡°That¡¯s a dangerous ability. I could see people getting addicted to it.¡±


    Aqua nodded. ¡°It can be addicting. But so is beer. And food. At least someone has to be Titled to get [Inner Sight], and I can¡¯t use it on myself.¡±


    I held a hand up to my cheek and it came away dry. ¡°I didn''t cry this time!¡±


    ¡°I noticed that, yes. How did you feel during the memory?¡±


    ¡°It was a happy memory. But I felt¡­ sad. Mncholic? Maybe more depressed. Y¡¯know, <i>you </i>were the one reading my emotions the whole time, why don¡¯t you just tell <i>me</i> what I felt.¡±


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°No, it¡¯s important that you tell me what you¡¯re feeling first. It helps us determine if you¡¯re being honest with your own emotions. But yes, what you¡¯re describing is exactly what I felt; pain, and depression.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ I have depression?¡±


    ¡°Not quite.¡± Aqua flipped to another page in her notebook. ¡°How are you sleeping?¡±


    ¡°Well enough? Better since I fully integrated with me body.¡±


    ¡°... that¡¯s beyond my training. Do you have nightmares?¡±


    ¡°Eh, sometimes? Doesn¡¯t everybody?¡±


    ¡°Insomnia?¡±


    ¡°No?¡±


    She gave me a hard stare. ¡°We all know you¡¯re constantly up till the wee hours in the brewroom.¡±


    ¡°Okay, a little insomnia,¡± I hedged.


    ¡°Have you been seeing anybody?¡±


    ¡°I see dead people,¡± I whispered monotone.


    ¡°... what?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not seeing anybody.¡±


    Aqua made some more notes. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Why not? Do I <i>need </i>to go on dates? Is a man not allowed to have a fantasy adventure without a prettydy hanging on his arm?¡±


    ¡°No, Pete. <i>WHY</i>? Are you not attracted to anyone? Are you not interested? Are you avoiding close rtionships?¡±


    Tourmaline¡¯s tinum curls came unbidden to my mind, and I banished them. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ not interested in dating right now,¡± I sidestepped, defensive. ¡°Okay, honestly, maybe I am avoiding them a little. But I <i>just</i> lost my wife, I don¡¯t <i>want </i>a girlfriend!¡±


    Aqua held up a calming hand. ¡°I know Pete. It¡¯s okay. We¡¯re just exploring your motivations.


    She made some more notes in her book, and we sat in silence for a while as her pencil scritched.


    Finally she sat forward and cleared her throat.


    ¡°Okay Pete. I suspect you haveplex post traumatic stress disorder. You¡¯ve been through a traumatic event. <i>Several</i> if we include everything that happened to you in the mine. Complex post traumatic stress disorder matches most of your symptoms.¡±


    ¡°I have¡­ PTSD?¡±


    ¡°<i>Complex </i>PTSD. It¡¯s a result of long term trauma, rather than a single event. I think dying, losing your family,ing to terms with a new world, being attacked by monsters, building a new life, and everything else you¡¯ve experienced on Erd definitely counts as long term trauma. CPTSD is associated with heavy emotional outbursts during episodes, insomnia, avoidance of serious rtionships and memory triggers, and istion.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not isting myself!¡±


    ¡°Pete. When was thest time you weren¡¯t working alone in your room, or pouring yourself into your beer <i>alone</i>, or fighting with the guild, or trying to beat everyone in somepetition? How often do you need to remind yourself to reach out? When was thest time you spent a day off with a friend?¡±


    I thought back. ¡°Umm¡­. I mean, I¡¯ve had a few days off. Like going fishing!¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you forced to go fishing? And what do you do during those days off?¡±


    I thought back. ¡°Study magic. Summon stuff with [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance]. Read history.¡±


    Aqua shook her head. ¡°Pete. You have a family now. A house. A home. People who <i>support</i> you. It¡¯s okay to step away for a bit. In fact, I¡¯m going to prescribe it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re prescribing <i>me </i>time off? I¡¯m your <i>boss</i>!¡± I said, aghast.


    ¡°And you agreed to listen to me when I¡¯m being your therapist! If you won¡¯t do that then I won¡¯t do this anymore!¡± She snapped back.


    I crossed my arms and grumped. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll take a break. [Doctor¡¯s] orders.¡±


    ¡°[Hypnotist]. And you won¡¯t practice brewing, or magic, or study. You¡¯ll <i>actually</i> stop.¡±


    ¡°Not even magic!?¡± I cried in shock.


    ¡°No. Pete, you need to reminisce a bit. Slow down and spend time thinking about your past, or it¡¯s going to continue to overwhelm you.¡±


    She rubbed at the bridge of her nose. ¡°Tell you what. Johnsson¡¯s going to the beardy parlour again tomorrow afternoon. You go with him. Listen to thetest gossip and just enjoy getting your beard brushed. And maybe go see some wrestling with him too. Okay?¡±


    I really did want to go see Dwarf Draconis fight again. Aqua was really pulling my beard here.


    ¡°Alright. Fine, I¡¯ll do it.¡± I hopped to my feet, rubbing my hands together like scrooge mcduck with a sack of gold. ¡°Thanks. Good session, this helped a lot, now get out of my office ya miscreant.¡±


    Aqua rolled her eyes and stood. ¡°This is the thanks I get? You¡¯re a real sonnuvanannygoat, aren¡¯t ya, Pete?¡±


    I ced finger horns on my temple and bleated. ¡°Baaaaaaah!¡±


    *Baaaaaaahhh!?!?* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°What dids¡¯t though call me, varlet!?¡±

 Book 3- Chapter 57 Doctors Orders

    Book 3- Chapter 57 Doctor''s Orders


    I sighed as the [Barber]bed a knot out of my hair. It matched the knots in my back ¨C and heart. Aqua was right, I really did need time off. Well, no time like the present!


    ¡°You were saying, Pete?¡± Johnsson asked.


    I nced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was getting a beard oil massage while a gnome rubbed his feet. Beside him, Beauregard ¨C the Dwarf Draconis ¨C was getting his nails done.


    Because of<em>course</em>the professional luchadwarf that ran around nearly naked all day needed to have perfect cuticles.


    Bare feet were, to be fair, the ultimate flex for a dwarf.


    I turned back to stare at the ceiling then closed my eyes. Very deliberately, I let my mind wander back to my old life.


    ¡°The worst part of having children, especially a daughter, was the hair,¡± I said, continuing my anecdote from earlier. ¡°It was tangly, frizzy, and an absolute horror show to keepbed and washed. I could handle the poopy diapers, I could deal with the tantrums, and burping was a snap, but the battles over shampoo were the thing of nightmares. Going to the hair salon wasn¡¯t much better. She got used to it eventually, but it took<em>years</em>.¡±


    Beauregardughed, a belly-bouncing guffaw. ¡°Aye! Me nephew was a right mudworm when it came time to clip his moustache! He¡¯d burrow into the nearest hole and then bite anyone what came near!¡±


    My first therapist mandated rest period was fairly simple; spend the day being a third wheel to Johnsson and Beuregard. It turned out to be pretty chill ¨C they just bro¡¯d about the city, and I got to be another one of the bros.


    As we¡¯d walked through town, I¡¯d noticed we were getting a lot of attention. At first I¡¯d thought it was because we were walking with someone famous, but the famous person turned out to be Johnsson!<em>Everyone</em>seemed to know him! Gnome, giant, child, it didn¡¯t matter who, they were all saying their hellos to the pink streaked, false armored, dandy of a dwarf.


    Whoddathunkit.


    The barber pushed my chin up, and I obliged, giving them ess to my lower beard. The barber tsk¡¯d at the state of my scruff, and went to work with clippers.


    ¡°What colour was her hair?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°Brown.¡± I said. ¡°She was always kind of upset about that. She wanted blonde, or ck, or red. Or something exciting, like<em>rainbow</em>.¡±


    ¡°Never seen rainbow hair.¡± Johnsson remarked. ¡°That could be interesting.¡±


    I just barely avoided nodding while clippers buzzed inches from my chin. ¡°Aye, I guess rainbows aren¡¯t nearly as popr underground.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of popr!¡± Beauregard jumped in. ¡°Am I helpin¡¯ you sell your next beer? And when are you gonna let me try it! Johnny said it¡¯ll knock my armored socks straight off, and I don¡¯t even wear any!¡±


    He wiggled his toes, and the gnome working on them gave his leg hair a yank.


    ¡°We¡¯ll let you try it next week.¡± Johnsson murmured, ignoring Beauregard¡¯s hisses of pain


    ¡°I never had a big beard before.¡± I continued. ¡°Sammy hated it, and so did my Caroline. They always said it was too scratchy. I¡¯d start growing it out on the first of the month and five dayster I¡¯d start finding razors on my pillow, in my office, on my breakfast te¡­ and Sammy would start makingments about seeing bigfoot in the yard.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a bigfoot?¡±


    ¡°Think a giant, but with<em>really big feet</em>. And covered in hair. Sasquatch was another name for it. My favourite hot springs town, Harrison Hotsprings, was famous for them. They had a whole touristy thing around the Harrison Sasquatch. And they made these really tasty nuts. We loved that town¡­ Caroline and I would go dancing at the Copper Room, then go eat whole pork hocks at the ck Forest.¡±


    I sighed, remembering the taste. Maybe I could ask Bran to make me one. ¡°Caroline and I even talked about retiring there.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a mountain ape,¡± Johnsson mused. ¡°They have those in the northern mountains. You¡¯vee a long way!¡±


    I rolled my eyes. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if every fantasy thing you could imagine existed in Erd. At least it helped keep my story straight.


    We sat in silence for a little while more, enjoying the feeling of rxation that could only be found in a good spa. I closed my eyes and sank into reminiscense. The best spa I¡¯d ever gone to with Caroline was Spa Erding in Munich. Our Canadian sensibilities had balked at a thousand person nude spa at first, but we¡¯de around right around the time we¡¯d found the in-pool bar. Nothing removed inhibitions quite like a double mai tai!


    Especially when all I was wearing was my tie! Nyuck!


    Speaking of which, the first order of business after I finished with all this beer business, was to go get some harder alcohol.


    At this point, another patron came in and started talking with the front staff. The new voice sounded familiar, but I couldn¡¯t put a face to it. I ignored it; I had rum and coke to drink in my daydreams.


    The neer was brought next to us in the row, and they greeted us as they took their seat. ¡°Good afternoon. You three look like you¡¯re having a good time.¡±


    Their voice was deep and cultured, with the cadence of a noble, but without the annoying inflections.


    ¡°Aye.<em>The Bashful Beard</em>hires the best of the best¡± Beauregard said in a friendly tone.


    ¡°This is our favourite spot.¡± Johnsson added. ¡°Can¡¯t beat ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I agree. My friends keep telling me to patron some ce more exclusive, but Barber Mcshave is my favourite dwarf in the business.¡±


    The dwarf working on my beard chuckled. ¡°Hah! ttery won¡¯t be gettin¡¯ you any discounts!¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, I couldn¡¯t help but notice. Do I know you?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ possibly. I never forget a face. Did youe out to the water pipe project in Yellowwall?¡±


    ¡°Aye¡­ You¡¯re - !¡± Johnsson said in partial rm.


    I opened my eyes to see the one dwarf in all of Kinshasa I didn¡¯t want sitting next to me in a barbershop. Which was weirdly specific, but whatever.


    It was Thad Harmsson.


    In the flesh.


    Sitting<em>right next</em>to me. A buxom human shaped elfess stood behind his chair, trying to blend into the background and looking bored.


    He noticed me staring and gave me a winning smile. ¡°Hello! Sorry for interrupting your trim.¡±


    ¡°No problem, Lord Harmsson.¡± Barber Mcshave said, giving a flick of his wrist. ¡°I was just finishing up.¡±


    I nodded in confirmation. ¡°Aye. We were going to be<em>leaving</em>soon anyway!¡± I turned a ¡®happy¡¯ smile on Johnsson, and he picked up the cue.


    ¡°Aye! We¡¯ve got a wrestling match to go see!¡± Johnsson nodded vigorously.


    ¡°Har! Not that there¡¯s much<em>to</em>see! It¡¯s all second stringers today!¡± Beauregard guffawed, thumping his chest with pride and missing the hint<em>entirely</em>.


    ¡°You<em>are</em>the famous Dwarf Draconis then!?¡± Harmsson said, his eyebrows arching. ¡°I thought my eyes were deceiving me.¡±


    ¡°That I am!¡± Beauregard nodded, frowning. ¡°And I¡¯ve heard of you, Lord Harmsson. Not all of it good.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d imagine so.¡± Harmsson shrugged. ¡°A natural consequence of my work.¡±


    He then turned to give me a questioning look. ¡°But I¡¯m curious. I feel like we¡¯ve met, but I can¡¯t recall your face. Do I know you?¡±


    My brain huped. Thest time he¡¯d seen me, I¡¯d been in costume. Talk mouth! Talk! My answer came out unbidden, near knee-jerk, ingrained from years of habit.


    ¡°¡®fraid I can''t say. I don¡¯t know any dwarves named You.¡±


    Harmsson blinked.


    I blinked back.


    The upright noble snickered, thenughed, then guffawed. In a moment, he was in near paroxysms ofughter.


    I gave a nervous chuckle and shot a look at Johnsson, who shrugged and rolled his eyes.


    Harmsson quickly calmed, and wiped a tear from his eyes. ¡°Ahhh!! Thank you for that! I¡¯m surrounded by serious nobles and city workers all day. You just reminded me of something I heard a long time ago. Thank you for that.¡±


    I gave a sick smile. ¡°Happy ta help.¡±


    ¡°All done, Brewer Roughtuff. Would you like a hot towel? You don¡¯t need to get up ¨C feel free to wait until Johnny and Beau are done.¡± Mcshave took that exact moment to cut my throat, figuratively. See if I leave<em>you</em>a tip, Mcshave!


    Harmssons eyes twitched up, like someone reading a prompt, and then flicked back down again. His smile grew a bit more genuine.


    ¡°Brewer Roughtuff! That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t recognize you! You came in disguisest we met! I¡¯m d to finally meet you face to face!¡±


    ¡°Ah - haaaah!¡± I leaked. ¡°Aye, I hear Sam talked to you about that?¡±


    Harmsson nodded. ¡°That he did. And not to worry, I understand your caution. You¡¯re not the first toe in disguise to our rallies, and you won¡¯t be thest! We encourage local master craftsmen and Titled toe and see what we¡¯re about, and not all the guilds like or appreciate what we¡¯re doing. The nobility certainly doesn¡¯t,<em>especially</em>the Council of Greybeards! That can make some reluctant toe. And you not only came, you worked hard to help the less fortunate. You¡¯re a shining example of a Crackian. I thank you for your civic duty.¡± He actually held his beard out to me, a rare gesture of humility from a noble.


    ¡°Uh, thankee.¡± I breathed a sigh of relief, and my jaw uncramped.


    I epted a hot towel from Mcshave andy it on my neck as I settled back into my chair, keeping a wary eye on Harmsson.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been following the brewing contest very closely.¡± Harmsson admitted as Mcshave tipped his seat back and began working on hisrge, grey, and well-manicured beard. ¡°But I did hear that the guild¡¯s been hard on you for changing the Sacred Brew. It¡¯s not your fault, you¡¯re just following the contest rules, and furthering your craft too! Such a shame¡­¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help agreeing with gusto. ¡°Aye, the guild¡¯s been a right pain in me behind!¡±


    ¡°The guilds have been a problem for<em>all</em>the crafters, from what I¡¯ve heard. The cksmiths have had the worst of it ¨C two entire forges burned down during thest round.¡± Harmsson shook his head in chagrin, and Barber Mcshave paused his clippers just long enough to mutter an angry imprecation at the movement.


    I gulped and looked over at my resident gossip. Johnsson nodded sadly and Beuregard swore mightily.


    Harmsson, sensing the plunging atmosphere, smoothly changed the subject. ¡°I<em>did</em>hear you¡¯repeting against the famed Riverside for the next round! That¡¯ll definitely be tough ¨C Master Brewer Schist is my favourite brewer in the city, you know.¡±


    ¡°Heh. I think you¡¯ll be surprised.¡± I smirked.


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°We have something special nned. Riverside and the Thirsty Goat, that is.¡±


    ¡°Really? What is it?¡± Harmsson asked conspiratorially. He leaned over, and Mcshave smacked his head back.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ nope. It¡¯s still a secret.¡± I grinned wide. ¡°But as a fellow lover of the Sacred Brew, I can give you an early invite to our big event next month.¡±


    It would be public knowledge soon anyway, so there wasn¡¯t much point in hiding it.


    ¡°An event? There¡¯ll be lots of Riverside brew, I assume?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll make an effort to be there.¡±


    Harmsson paused in our conversation as Mcshave went to work on his moustache. I waited for Johnsson and Beauregard to finish up, and the three of us stood to leave.


    I gave a parting farewell as we headed out. ¡°Have a good shave, Lord Harmsson.¡±


    He held up a hand. ¡°Brewer Roughtuff. Before you go, may I ask you for something of a favour?¡±


    I paused. ¡°Um, you may.¡±


    ¡°In light of the attacks on the cksmiths, I¡¯d like to make a statement about the contests and the state of the guilds. Your event sounds like it could be the perfect venue for it.¡±


    It took me a second to parse his question, and I sucked in my breath as I realized what he was asking. Uh, how about<em>no</em>!?


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to answer right away!¡± Harmsson assuaged me, seeing my hesitation, ¡°And please do talk to Master Brewer Schist first. But given the events of the past month, between the cheating in the cooking contest and the arsons, it may behoove you to show that someone powerful has your back.¡±


    I wanted to deny him t out, but I hesitated. He<em>was</em>doing more for the city than any other noble or city official that I¡¯d seen since arriving in Kinshasa. There was still a high chance that there was a Chosen involved with his campaign, but¡­


    I thought back to helping Sammy make posters for her outreach club at school. Of volunteering my grapes and time at the local soup kitchen. All the memories I¡¯d been avoiding while I focused on my all-important mission of saving beer.


    I always had a ce in my heart for the little guy, and right now Harmsson was quite literally the<em>only</em>noble looking out for the littlest people of all ¨C the gnomes. And the people of Yellowall of course. I just couldn¡¯t keep ignoring that. Even if it could be personally dangerous.


    ¡°And my Great Charter demands a number of concessions for celebrated craftsdwarves such as yourself.¡± Harmsson pushed. ¡°Have you read it?¡±


    ¡°I have.¡± I admitted. ¡°And I agree with much of what you¡¯re trying to aplish. It¡¯s just¡­ can I be honest, Lord Harmsson? Politicians promise the world, but in my experience they don¡¯t deliver. I was impressed by what you did in Yellowwall, and I was there for the shaleshark cleanup as well, so I¡¯m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I¡¯m not sure I want to hook my goat up to yer wagon yet.¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s face didn¡¯t change at all, but I could tell he was disappointed.


    ¡°But¡­¡± I heaved an enormous sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Master Brewer Schist. I¡¯ll send word of our decision through Sam, as well as a sample of our semi-final beer entry. We¡¯ll see if you still think Master Brewer Schist is the best brewer in the city after that!¡±


    ¡°I look forward to hearing from you then, Brewer Roughtuff.¡± Harmsson replied with a smile. He held his fist up for a fist bump, and I obliged around a rapidly reddening Mcshave.


    ¡°Oh, and if Schist approves you''ll need to run your speech past us first.¡± I hedged.


    Harmsson beat his clenched fist on his chest. ¡°Of course.¡±


    *Ding!*


    And then the three of us were back out in the street, dodging goats and giants and heading to the wrestling arena.


    I hoped I wasn¡¯t making a terrible mistake, but Godsdammit, I WANTED what Harmsson was selling. He was right! And ording to Master Brewer Schist and Guildmaster Malt, I was already in deep shit in the background. Pulling the attention off me and onto Harmsson could be just what the Doctor ordered.


    But I¡¯d leave it up to Master Brewer Schist. Yep, it would be all<em>his</em>fault. And we''d set up a contingency, just in case

 Book 3: Chapter 58: Meeting Old Friends

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 58: Meeting Old Friends</h4>


    The next two weeks were nearly the slowest since I¡¯d arrived in Erd. I took Aqua¡¯s advice seriously, and put extra effort into talking to the team about my past. About my family, and the home I¡¯d left behind. Richter was by far the most interested, and fell in love with Earth science. He wanted to know more about concepts like rtivity, dark matter, and the periodic table. I told him that Erd physics workedpletely differently, but he still thought there were parallels that could be explored.


    In my off time I continued to work on my gluten transformation spell. As soon as it wasplete, I¡¯d start on some kind of a fireball spell, swear to Gods.


    I continued to take weekly therapy from Aqua. We talked about my past, what I found easiest in this new world, and what I found hardest. Where my frustrationsy and what I wanted to change the most about myself. We also revisited my memories, both from Earth and from here. I was surprised how much <i>fear</i> I had in my early memories of Erd. My months in the reform mine were especially clouded with rage and terror. And not all of it was gone either. I was still angry at the cancer for taking me from my family, at Barck for dropping me into the shitter, at the Guild for their sabotage and ham-fisted throttling of beer, at goat shit for existing.


    Yup. I <i>really</i> needed that therapy!


    We finally brought Rosie and Darrel into the fold, but only after they agreed to keep it a secret from Bando. It would probably hurt when he found out that everyone in the tavern knew this great big secret except him, but he just was too big of a liability. Besides, old dwarves were used to keeping secrets from young dwarves, so it wasn¡¯t <i>that </i>out of the ordinary. Rosie didn¡¯t even find the news surprising. She imed it was pretty much impossible to keep secrets from the person washing your underwear.


    Annie blushed when she said it.


    Which brought us to mid-afternoon the day before the release of our Dragonator. When Berry walked through the door with an elf on her arm.


    Or rather, her on an elf¡¯s shoulder, given the height disparity. With Joseph nearly the size of a human, and Berry rather short for a gnome, it was kind of hrious. She was practically hanging on his arm like a ko.


    ¡°Berry.¡± I nodded at her and gave a closed fist bow to Joseph. ¡°Ambassador.¡±


    ¡°Pete.¡± Berry nodded back. ¡°Were you nning on inviting us to the release of your brew? It¡¯ll be soon, won¡¯t it? We¡¯ve barely spoken at all for a couple months.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy, you¡¯ve been busy, and tha general consensus was that tyin¡¯ ourselves together at the hip could have consequences fer you or me depending on who we pissed off.¡±


    Berry bristled. ¡°I can handle myself.¡±


    Joseph patted her shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s just being careful, love. Hello Peter.¡±


    Berry¡¯s defensiveness evaporated, and she nced up ¨C and up ¨C at him with an adoring smile. ¡°If you say so, Jo.¡±


    Oho! What was this!


    I waggled my eyebrows at Berry and she shot back a challenging re. ¡°Joseph, I have some stuff to talk to Pete about. Do you mind?¡±


    Joseph shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll grab a seat and a snack. The Goat always has the best food. Has Bran decided on what he¡¯s doing for the cooking contest?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Aye. He¡¯s releasin¡¯ it at tha same time as our beer. It¡¯s delicious, but tha name¡­¡±


    ¡°Is it better than hisst one?¡± Joseph asked with a snicker.


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    Berryughed. ¡°What was it, again? Bran¡¯s Giant Salty Sausage?¡±


    ¡°Bran¡¯s Big Ol¡¯ Salty Beef.¡± I frowned. ¡°His new one is worse. You¡¯ll see it when ites out.¡±


    The pair sniggered together at my discontent and I rolled my eyes. ¡°Okay Berry, I seem to have nothin¡¯ but time recently, soe on in and chat.¡±


    Joseph grabbed a seat at the bar, while I took Berry to the office and settled in.


    ¡°How did your presentation to the mages go?¡± I asked, as I called an elemental over and asked for hot water for tea.


    ¡°It went <i>great</i>!¡± Berry beamed. ¡°I¡¯ve been given an honorary diploma in magical studies for it! They¡¯ve sent a small cadre of mages to work in the band; they provide magical effects and I teach them my methods. I¡¯ve been asked to do a magic demonstration at the Octamillenial Faire too!¡±


    ¡°Congrattions!¡±


    ¡°Uh huh!¡± Berry took her cup of tea and set it aside. ¡°Speaking of diplomas, how¡¯s Richter doing?¡±


    ¡°So far so good. He¡¯s started his first sses, but he spent so much time studying these past few decades that he¡¯s actually way ahead of the material. The curse of the overachiever. At least it means he has plenty of time for the brewery.¡±


    Berry held up her teacup in a toast. ¡°To doing the bare minimum!¡±


    ¡°Says the woman with the honorary diploma,¡± I jibed.


    ¡°Psh, it was practically free.¡± Berry took a sip of tea and sighed. ¡°But that¡¯s not what brought me here today.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    I gave her a go on gesture as I poured my own tea.


    ¡°I¡¯m taking things seriously with Joseph,¡± she began, hesitantly. ¡°I¡¯ve really gotten to know him the past few months, and met others from his country. I¡¯ve even spent some time at the Awemedinand embassy. Joseph¡¯s kind, smart, and cares about people. He¡¯s a good person, and I like him, but more importantly, he likes <i>me</i>. Not my music, not my magic ¨C he¡¯s not a groupie ¨C he likes <i>me</i>, <i>Berry</i>.¡±


    I gave her a quizzical look. ¡°Sounds like he¡¯s a great guy. Why are you telling <i>me</i> this? Bragging?¡±


    Berry took a deep breath. ¡°Because I n on telling him what I am. And he¡¯s smart enough that he¡¯ll probably figure out that you¡¯re the same.¡±


    I blinked, then grinned. ¡°A. Yer lookin¡¯ out for me! Thank you!¡±


    Berry¡¯s eyes shed. ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me, Pete! Did you even need my warning?¡±


    She made to stand and leave, and I held out a hand. ¡°No, no, sorry. I really do appreciate it! I¡¯m just surprised you waited to tell me first.¡±


    ¡°Why? You think I¡¯m a hot head?¡± Berry crossed her arms and tapped her foot angrily.


    Wowee! Loaded question, Pete! Step carefully!


    ¡°Noooo,¡± I hazarded, ¡°I mean more that Joseph¡¯s a great guy, and I¡¯m surprised you were able to hold yerself back from¡­ hittin¡¯... that¡­ thang?¡±


    ¡°God, you¡¯re such a boomer.¡± Berry rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Ugh, Gen X, thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Whatever. I told you, so now I can tell him guilt free.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I already figured that he knew about the Chosen, or someone he¡¯s working with does. I¡¯m not sure telling him will do much more than confirm it. And, you look quite sure of yourself; I¡¯m not sure I could say anything that would change your mind.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, this is more about my conscience.¡±


    ¡°Oh, your God gave you a magic insect that sits on your shoulder and tells you right from wrong too?¡±


    Berry¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What? No!? You got <i>what</i>!?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he keeps telling me I need to wish upon a star. Dunno why; I keep praying to my shrine to Brendan Fraser but nothing happens.¡±


    Berry gave me a glower as she caught on. ¡°You¡¯re so <i>weird</i>, old man. And who the hell is Brendan Fraser?¡±


    I gasped. ¡°The man who defeated not one, not two, but three mummies?? The man who all testosterone deprived middle management office drones aspire to be? <i>The</i> Brendan Fraser??¡°


    ¡°Dunno ¡®im. Was he as famous as vor v?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    Berry shook her head. ¡°What¡¯s the n with your next release?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re doing a Smoking Nitro Doppelbock.¡±


    She gave me a nk look.


    I gave her a saucy look in return. ¡°You¡¯ll have ta see it to believe it! Have you heard about our little contest with Riverside?¡±


    ¡°The magic brew thing? Yeah, my new mage roadies won¡¯t stop talking about it. Are you really having a magical brew-off?¡±


    ¡°Damn straight! And this brew is somethin¡¯ magical alright.¡±


    Berry looked out into the brewroom with interest. ¡°Can I try one?¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm nope. It¡¯s a <i>secret</i>. Come by our release at Whistlemop¡¯s cart tomorrow. There¡¯ll be a show with Dwarf Draconis and everything!¡±


    Berry groaned. ¡°Ugh. What¡¯s the point of being your friend if I can¡¯t get early free beers!?¡±


    ¡°Bein¡¯ subjected to my winnin¡¯ personality? And I¡¯ll let ya skip the line¡±


    She shook her head and stood to go. ¡°It¡¯s been real Pete. Joseph wanted to talk to you too before we leave.¡±


    ¡°Okay. And about telling him everything, just¡­ be careful, okay?¡± There wasn¡¯t much more I could do. I couldn¡¯t control her, so I just had to trust her instincts. The <i>famed rational</i> instincts of a twenty-something in love. Sigh.


    We emerged to find Joseph sitting chatting with a gigantically rotund dwarf that I immediately recognized by his boomingugh. The pair were sitting at the bar and being served by a harried looking Bando.


    ¡°Rumbob!!¡±


    *Ho Ho Ho!* ¡°Hello Pete! Come join us! Bring more of those pickles,d!¡± The champion pro-drinker of Minnova and [Tavernic Counselor] gave me a hearty wave. With his gigantic bushy beard and ruddy face he still looked like a stubby Santa us.


    I walked over with a huge smile on my face. ¡°Rumbob you ol¡¯ beer barrel! Wee ta Kinshasa!¡±


    ¡°*Ho Ho Ho*! I barely made it! There¡¯s so many folk lined up outside the city it took me a whole bloody week to get in!¡±


    ¡°Oof. Where¡¯re ya stayin¡¯?¡±


    Rumbob looked chagrined. ¡°Everywhere¡¯s full, even forpetitors. I was actually hopin¡¯ you might have some space.¡± He gestured around the tavern. ¡°You¡¯ve got a nice ce here!¡±


    ¡°Nice!? It¡¯s downright amazing! And we can absolutely find you space. Just¡­ not in the inn. You¡¯ll have to stay with us in the manor. I¡¯ll run it by Annie, but I don¡¯t see any reason ya can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°*Ho Ho Ho!* Thanks Pete! Yer a real life saver!¡±


    ¡°Just lookin¡¯ out for our best customer.¡± I pped him on the back. ¡°Have you tried any of our new beers yet?¡±


    ¡°Have I! Yer beers have been takin¡¯ Minnova by storm, Pete! All but that salty brew. Not a fan of that one! *Ho ho ho*!¡±


    ¡°Eh, can¡¯t please everyone, and the gose really was aimed at Kinshasa.¡± I turned to Joseph, who had an empty bowl of beer nuts and a half eaten pretzel in front of him. ¡°Berry said you needed to talk to me Joseph?¡±


    ¡°That I do! I have news about importing beer to Awemedinand. I got permission from the conste! All that¡¯s left is to hammer out a contract, and we¡¯ll be able to start importing Thirsty Goat Beer to the surface!¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: Elven Influencer 1/10</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Dunno how well this gonna go with just beer, to be honest. </i><i></i>


    <i>Maybe some wine?</i><i></i>


    <i>Elves Influenced: 300/2,500</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Adjust Taste]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    ¡°That¡¯s great news!¡± I told the beaming elf as I epted the quest. ¡°I¡¯m certain we can hash something out. But I do have a caveat.¡±


    Joseph leaned in conspiratorially. Across the bar, Bando perked up an ear to eavesdrop with all the subtlety of a bull moose. ¡°What were you thinking?¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°This¡¯ll take a while, so you can join me in the office while Berry goes to work on Bran¡¯s Big Ol¡¯ Salty Beef. There¡¯s a book I want ta distribute, and you may be the perfect person to do so.¡±


    Person/patsy. Same difference.

 Book 3: Chapter 59: The Redlip Riot (1)

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 59: The Redlip Riot (1)</h4>


    <strong>Release Day</strong>


    Screams rang through the market, and the sounds of carnage filled my ears as another explosion rang out. A massive grumble of dwarves passed just down the road, axes in hand, their eyes burning a crimson red. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Annie shouting a battlecry as she fought back the horde.


    Bodies littered the ground around me as I dragged myself beneath Whistlemop¡¯s carriage. I kept an iron grip on the Goldstone warhammer, my one and only life line in this pit of the Nether. It¡¯d served me well these past few hours, and it would serve me well until I finally walked into the halls of valha.


    Or climbed that stupid Godly mountain. Whatever.


    ¡°Go on Pete, I¡¯ll nae make it!¡± Malt groaned from beside me. He was stashed up behind a wagon wheel, a pair of unconscious dwarves serving as camouge. His ankle was swollen and looked either horribly sprained or broken.


    ¡°No dwarf left behind.¡± I hissed, daring to peek out from under the cart. ¡°Where¡¯re Godsdamn Richter and Berry! They should be in the backline supportin¡¯ the rest of us!¡±


    ¡°Berry ran off with that tall elf when the fighting started. I don¡¯t know where Richter is.¡±


    ¡°That little traitor!¡±


    ¡°Now, now, she¡¯s a young woman in love. *cough*. I heard Annie somewhere over there. If I know her, and I¡¯ve known her since she was knee high to a gnome, she¡¯s probably rallied the defense.¡±


    ¡°Can you move?¡±


    ¡°I can try.¡±


    There was a muffled hiss from a pile of bodies ten meters from the cart. The dwarves were all unconscious and in various states of disarray, but all shared one feature inmon ¨Cically swollen ruby red lips. Malt and I tensed, then rxed as a familiar whistley voice whispered forth. ¡°Pete?¡±


    I turned back to Malt, offering my hand as I pulled him to his knees. I surveyed the road, but we looked to be in the clear at the moment. I pointed east, deeper into the market. ¡°I think she¡¯s that way.¡±


    ¡°Pete, it¡¯s me, Whistlemop.¡± The pile of bodies shifted. ¡°I¡¯m stuck! These drunken coal-heads weigh a ton! Help!¡±


    ¡°On the count of five, run.¡± I told Malt. ¡°Lean on me if you need to.¡±


    The pile rocked violently. ¡°Dammit! I know you can hear me Pete! HELP!¡±


    ¡°Should we help him?¡± Malt whispered.


    ¡°He¡¯s safer under there.¡± I muttered. ¡°And he won¡¯t be able to keep up. Besides, this is all his fault.¡±


    The pile shifted again. ¡°Gods! They stink! And that had better be beer soaking into my good suit! I swear to Yearn, Pete, if you leave me here ¨C ¡°


    ¡°No <i>dwarf </i>left behind. Five ¨C four ¨C ¡°


    ¡°PETE!!!!!¡± The pile shrieked.


    ¡°threetwoone ¨C RUN!¡±


    ¡ª


    <strong>Two Hours Earlier</strong>


    Ah, release day. The only thing more fun than back when Boxing Day meant stuff <i>actually</i> went on sale. Seriously Canadian Tire? Twenty dors off a two-hundred dor grill? Twist my arm whydontcha.


    As per usual, we were announcing at Whistlemops¡¯ cart in the Grand Market, while Schist revealed his brew at the Guild¡¯s permanent Main Street storefront. It was just a stone¡¯s throw away, in part so folks could make it in time to try both of our brews. We were set up on grocer street, where Whistlemop mostly sold Whistlemugs and other ss sundries for cooking and eating.


    Kinshasa¡¯s Redwall Grand Market was simr enough to Minnova¡¯s Grand Market with one key difference ¨C it wasn¡¯t a square. Instead, there was one enormous strip running the length of Redwall Gate to ckwall. At quarter intervals, another wide street ran perpendicr to the Main street, creating in effect another Main Street. They were so incredibly wide that there was plenty of space for caravans, bazaars, street vendors, and more.


    Each of therge side streets was themed; one for cksmiths, arms and armor and weapons, another for butchers and bakers and other food stuffs, and so on and so forth. One entire street was dedicated to city services, including city hall, the guard station, the fire hall, et cetera.


    Kinshasa¡¯s University of Archis also had such a street to itself, with the thoroughfare serving as the University''s grounds, and all the apartments below the stores providing student housing. The mage¡¯s tower of the Academy was actually the tallest building in Kinshasa, dwarfing even the church¡¯s cathedral.


    Today was about spectacle, and we had set up <i>quite</i> the spectacle. Dwarf Draconis and his musical apaniment were lined up atop Whistlemop¡¯s cart. Draconis was in his usual tight red and orange scale pants and not much else.


    The ostentatious little capitalist Whistlemop was in his best rainbow suit today,plete with a new top-hat of indeterminate magical means. His Whistlemugs had been doing quite well in Kinshasa, assuming that the ounting he¡¯d recently made me read was all correct. He¡¯d been making an absolute killing with special edition mugs for each round of contests.


    ¡°Did you hire additional security, Whistlemop?¡± I asked, as I looked out over the bustling crowd with apprehension. ¡°I don¡¯t see the dozen adventuring teams I asked for.¡±


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Do you have any idea what that many adventurers <i>cost</i>? I got three.¡±


    ¡°Three<i>!?¡±</i>


    ¡°Pete. You said your beer <i>knocks people out</i>. I think even six is too many. Maybe we can get them to move unconscious drunks off the road to earn their keep.¡±


    ¡°Whistlemop, you haven¡¯t seen how dwarves can get. Hang tha cost, yer gonna regret not having more guards.¡±


    Whistlemop rolled his eyes. ¡°These are <i>dwarves</i>, not psychotic goats from the pits of the Nether.¡±


    I sniggered, even as my brows creased with worry. ¡°You¡¯ll never live that down.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get that goat back one day, mark my word.¡±


    ¡°Penelope¡¯ll eat yer sad little excuse of a beard for <i>breakfast</i>.¡±


    ¡°Hpmh, either way it¡¯s toote to get more. I still think six will be enough.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I hope yer right.¡±


    The crowd filling the surrounding street had already reached at least a thousand souls, and we were still a half-hour from the announcement. Thankfully, the general atmosphere was festive, with dwarves excitedlyparing their tankards and whistlemugs and other various beer paraphernalia. I was happy to see blue boxes here and there for empties, and they were being put to proper use by the civic-minded Crackians.


    I took the time to check on our massive stockpile of barrels and bottles. With judicial use of [Rapid Aging], this was quite possibly the most beer that the Thirsty Goat had ever produced. I was actually starting to look forward to thepetition ending; it was getting to be a bit too much work!


    Richter gave me the thumbs up as I approached. ¡°It is all working, Pete.¡±


    ¡°No problems with the temperature after the move?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I walked around the party-sized tent we were keeping all the beer in. It had cooling runes inscribed on all the sides. They¡¯d been expensive, but doppelbocks tasted best cold. One of thepetitors back in the first round had even won using magically chilled bottles, but this was a lot cheaper.


    ¡°Any word yet from Riverside?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m sooooo curious.¡± I didn¡¯t whine. ¡°Any guesses?¡±


    ¡°Beer that explodes in your face.¡± Richter said, instantly. ¡°Mages always love explosions.¡±


    Johnsson shook his head. ¡°Nah, it¡¯ll be a brew that turns your fists into rocks, or maybe your head.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯ll be simple, just like ours.¡± Annie proimed. ¡°Schist¡¯s a brewer first, too. <i>I </i>think it¡¯ll be a regr Sacred Brew with a bit of a twist. Something extremely sour, or super spicy, or <i>extra</i> sweet. A brew that <i>hits</i><i>hard</i>. I just hope it isn¡¯t high alcohol like ours¡­¡±


    ¡°Not salty?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Please, that was <ist</i> round.¡±


    We went through our pre-sale day checklist onest time, and then the hour arrived. Annie whispered to me as Dwarf Draconis strutted about on his ¡®stage¡¯ atop Whistlemop¡¯s cart, ¡°Are our permits in order? We did get that strongly worded letter from the city about thest time.¡±


    ¡°Aye. I upgraded us to a ¡®public show¡¯ rather than ¡®public speech¡¯. It cost more for the permit, but it should be fine.¡±


    Any further conversation was stymied as the ming bagpipes roared to life, screaming the tune to Thunderstuck ¨C thanks to your truly ¨C while an enormous bass drum pounded the beat.


    ¡°My Kinshasan brothers and sisters! Who¡¯s ready to see a show?¡± Draconis roared above the din, clearly making use of [Project Voice]. Geeze, everyone had that bloody Ability!


    The crowd roared back, and Draconis activated his signature mes as he breathed fire into the air.


    What followed was something straight out of the WWE as Draconis put on a show, jumping and leaping andunching mes every which way. A fire marshal from Earth would¡¯ve had a heart attack.


    After a solid minute of pointing,ughing, shouting, and swearing, a voice echoed out over the crowd.


    ¡°You think you own this street, Draconis? I was burying my shit here before you were born, and I¡¯ll add you to the pile if you don¡¯t get outta here!¡±


    Draconis swung to face the offender, and the crowd¡¯s gaze swung with him.


    ¡°Badgerlord!¡± Draconis shouted, his face a rictus of rage. ¡°You filthy animal!¡±


    ¡°Aye, and I¡¯ll get even filthier when I take a bath in yer guts!¡± A dwarf standing on a nearby rooftop screamed back. He was wearing pitch ck hide armour with a white tunic. He also had <i>massive </i>shoulderpads with ck and white stripes, and a big metal coif topped by a badger head.


    ¡°Looks like roast Badger¡¯s on the menu tonight!¡± Draconis raised his fists. ¡°Come over here if yer dwarf enough. Though I guess not, since yer just a lowly badger!¡±


    ¡°Argh! I¡¯ll rip off yer b ¨C ¡°


    *aaaaahh* [Tranted From Primma Donna Goat] ¡°My sensitive royal ears!


    I pped as the crowd roared their approval, solid B-Movie acting there. Good show, good show.


    Badgerlord jumped down off the roof onto Whistlemop¡¯s caravan, and the pair of luchadwarfs began to wrestle. It was toned down from their regr show ¨C a wagon-top wasn¡¯t a proper ring ¨C but it was still impressive choreography.


    Choreography that Draconis was meant to win. After five minutes of pping, punching, kicking, and screaming, Badgerlord, the Lord of the Badgers, copsed to his knees.


    ¡°Can nothing stop you, Draconis?¡± He groaned, before copsing off the cart and onto a safety tarpaulin set up for the purpose.


    Draconis wiped a sweaty arm across his brow. ¡°Nothing on this Erd can, Badgerlord, except maybe another dragon.¡±


    At that point he held up aically enormous bottle of our new <i>Dragonator. </i>The bottle was a dark green, with the image of a vicious looking red dragon painted on thebel.


    ¡°Like this! The Dragonator! It¡¯s the only brew that¡¯s capable of takin¡¯ down even me, The Dwarf Draconis!¡±


    With that he lifted the novelty bottle to his lips and drank long and deep. He full on <i>chugged</i> the friggin¡¯ thing!


    The entire staff of the Thirsty Goat winced. Draconis hadn¡¯t actually tried any of the Dragonator yet, because he wanted his initial reaction to be as honest as possible. We¡¯d warned him¡­


    He coughed once, and a wisp of smoke came out with it. He nced down at our little group with eyes as wide as saucers.


    ¡°Oy, that¡¯s ¨C¡° was as far as he got before his eyes rolled back, and ck smoke rocketed out of his open mouth and into the sky. It looked like his soul was escaping his body. Without another word he toppled like a tree right off the cart and onto the tarpaulin. Badgerlord gave a muffled *<i>oof*</i> as Draconisnded right on his midsection.


    There was dead<i></i>silence in the market, which was broken as somebody in the audience asked, ¡°Is he dead?¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 61: Deja Vu

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 61: Deja Vu</h4>


    ¡°By a vote held by the council of Greybeards, Riverside Brewery and Thirsty Goat Brewery were found <i>not </i>criminally responsible for the riot that urred within Redwall Grand Market on the 1st day of the 5th month following the joint sales of Burning Brew and Dragonator. In ordance with the Ordinances of Kinshasa, Volume 1, Section 5, Subsection 10, the aforementioned breweries will be fined for damages incurred by the city and local businesses. The amount shall be determined at ater date, but shall not not exceed 60,000 Gold at a ratio of 2/1 for Riverside Brewery. If unable to meet their obligations, the owners shall be subject to no less than 100 years in a Kinshasa penal reform mine or until they are able to provide the required gold.


    Health and Safety Auditors have determined that the aforementioned brews do not ssify as a risk to the popce under normal circumstances, and the Thirsty Goat Brewery and Riverside Brewery may continue to sell them so long as a warning is properly affixed to Burning Brew¡¯sbel.


    Gods bless the King and Kinshasa.¡±


    Annie read the fancy letter, written on vellum and sealed with red wax, with a trembling voice. When she was done, she copsed into a chair, breathing heavily. We all knew it wasing, and the mood around the Thirsty Goat had been ck for the past couple days as we awaited the Greybeard¡¯s judgment.


    The Redlip Riot as it was being called, had resulted in mostly <i>material</i> devastation. The Guard had quickly quelled the worst of the fighting, and Annie and Schist had managed to rally the sober to hold the line against the agonized drunken horde. I¡¯d made it through quite handily, so for now I just added the day to the list for CPTSD therapy with Aqua.


    The amount roughly matched what we¡¯d been told to expect by our [Lawyer]. The fine would go towards repairing the city streets and shop fronts as well as the Healer¡¯s fees. Apparently the transient traders and bazaar merchants would be getting a significantly reduced amount, and wasn¡¯t Whistlemop unhappy about <i>that</i>.


    Not that I¡¯d seen him muchtely. He was angry at being ¡®abandoned¡¯ and I was angry about theck of hired guards. We¡¯d talk again, eventually. Like adults.


    Eventually.


    Aqua wrapped an arm around Annie¡¯s shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s okay Annie. We have more than enough to cover that amount, it¡¯s not like it was back then. You¡¯re not going to a penal mine, and nobody died.¡±


    ¡°Which is impressive, when you think about it.¡± Kirk put in. ¡°Dwarves seem quite adept at avoiding fatal blows whenpletely smashed. If all that¡¯d happened in a human settlement there would¡¯ve been at least <i>some</i> deaths.¡±


    ¡°We get lotsa practice,¡± Johnsson said. ¡°And we¡¯re hardy.¡±


    ¡°A lot of Vitality crammed into an itty bitty package.¡± Kirk agreed.


    Johnsson growled and Kirk growled back.


    ¡°That much will wipe out everything we¡¯ve made in Kinshasa.¡± Annie groaned. ¡°But you¡¯re right, it¡¯s just Gold. We can be thankful to Barck for our luck that nobody got seriously hurt.¡±


    I carefully didn¡¯t point out that all the new brews were by Barck¡¯s design, so it was <i>really</i> his fault in the first ce.


    ¡°You do realize that the Thirsty Goat coffers don¡¯t have enough to cover thatrge a fine. We¡¯re going to need to dip into my personal funds.¡± I grumbled.


    A myriad of angry resnced into me.


    ¡°Which is fine! I¡¯m just sayin¡¯...¡± I finished,mely. ¡°I don¡¯t have <i>infinite</i> money.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing that every mine in Crack is using Boomdust now.¡± Johnsson said usingly. ¡°And I see Whistlemugs <i>everywhere</i>. How much money do you <i>have</i>?¡±


    ¡°Enough¡­¡± I prevaricated.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. How is ¡®dis gonna impact ¡®de contest?¡± Richter asked. ¡°There¡¯s no way it won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯ll be worse for Riverside than us,¡± I said, happy to change the subject. ¡°They have more to lose. We¡¯re neers, and outsiders at that. Plus, it really <i>was</i> the Burning Brew that set things off.¡±


    ¡°I wish I had your optimism, Pete.¡± Annie sighed. ¡°I just hope my father doesn¡¯t hear about this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Malt probably sent him a message via [Herald] the very next day.¡± Johnsson put in unhelpfully.


    ¡°Aghh!¡±


    ¡°For now, let¡¯sy low.¡± I raised my hands, trying to calm the situation. ¡°We <i>do</i> have enough to cover the fine, and our brew was a proverbial <i>hit</i>. I think Schist is overestimating how much people like spicy food, and it¡¯s gonna cost him. The worst is over, so let¡¯s just go to the Goat, have a pint, and wait for this all to blow over.¡±


    I was interrupted from any further pithy remarks by the pitter patter of feet as Bando burst into the office. He gasped for breath for a moment before shouting, ¡°There¡¯s an inspector from the Brewers Guild! You¡¯ve been summoned before the Masters!¡±


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the vition.


    Aqua pped her hand to her face.


    Annie red at me.


    ¡°Idjit.¡± Johnsson remarked.


    ¡ª


    Our escort turned out to be a Journeyman Brewer serving directly under Guildmaster Monk. He gave us just long enough to change into nicer clothes, then marched us out to his unigoat cart.


    The trip to the Brewer¡¯s Guild ran right through Food Street. The destruction of only a few days prior was nowhere to be seen, and the cheerful atmosphere of cutthroat hawkers and eager buyers was back in force. The only reminder of that event was the re from the asional trader who recognized us as we passed. I was able to ride with my head held high ¨C <i>we</i> didn¡¯t do it ¨C but Annie shrank down into herself.


    ¡°Keep your head up, Annie. You don¡¯t want to look guilty, that¡¯ll be blood in the sand.¡± I murmured, elbowing her in the side.


    ¡°But¡­ so many of them suffered because of <i>us</i>!¡±


    I nodded my head at a torn up tent. The merchant beneath it was haggling with a customer. ¡°Did you personally tear that up?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°Then tha sufferin¡¯ wasn''t because of you. Even tha Greybeards didn¡¯t think so, or they would¡¯ve found us guilty.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re making us pay 20,000 gold!¡±


    ¡°Up to, in civil liabilities, but you probably would¡¯ve been willin¡¯ ta pay that regardless. If anything, it¡¯s nice havin¡¯ a <i>maximum</i>. I¡¯ll repeat, what happened with the riot <i>wasn¡¯t our fault</i>. We may have identally instigated it, but we didn¡¯t <i>do</i> it. Besides, we tested the Dragonator <i>plenty</i>, and the worst we got was Johnsson projectile vomiting all over Bando.¡±


    She gave me a long hard stare. ¡°This really isn¡¯t affecting you, is it?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Actually, civil proceedings are practicallyfortable. Ya get called into court every once in a while when you own a sessful business; everybody wants a slice of yer pie. I stopped keepin¡¯ track after the third time we were sued fer false advertising.¡±


    Annie stared at me. ¡°That many? For what?¡±


    ¡°We were sellin¡¯ a beer called ¡®God¡¯s Own Dunkel¡¯, and some chucklebuck made a huge kerfuffle over it. Sued us fer ¡®falsely imin¡¯ the beer belonged to god¡¯. It got thrown out, like most of tha rest, and everything after that was just noise.¡± I waved the memory away, like a bad smell.


    ¡°Just <i>most </i>of the rest?¡±


    ¡°Eh. We lost a couple. One over some rotten beer and another from a neighbour that imed our heavy delivery vehicle traffic was against zoning and causin¡¯ ¡®em poor sleep. I did feel bad about thatst one, but we got better instion fer his house and paid out tha nose fer rezoning.¡±


    Annie gave me a sideways nce. ¡°You know, we''ve only really ever talked about business. You never talk much about your past.¡±


    I gave her a wink. ¡°I¡¯m trying something Aqua mentioned. It¡¯s helping.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should get some therapy too¡­¡± She mused as we arrived at our destination. We hopped out of the cart and triapsed into the Brewer¡¯s Guildhall. It was much like the Guildhall in Minnova ¨C an imposing stone edifice with an adjoining beer garden. If there were two big differences, they were theck of a raised seating area for the Masters in the beer garden, and the addition of a big statue of the First Brewer on the threshold.


    The first brewer was¡­ unremarkable. His beard was done up in the knotted traditional style, and he wore the heavy robes of a Master Brewerplete with an onion in his pocket, but otherwise he looked like any other dwarf.


    ¡°Do you like onions?¡± I asked Annie nonchntly.


    ¡°Sure, why?¡±


    ¡°Just curious.¡±


    ¡°Wait here.¡± Our escort stopped us and went to report in. Even the front foyer was simr to Minnova ¨C it was all mine deco, with careful thought put into making the space feel like a cave. From where we were standing we could see a kiosk covered in bottles with eager customers purchasing their beer for the day.


    ¡°Right this way.¡± Our escort announced, returning. We followed him down a side tunnel and down a ramp into the bowels of the guild. There wasn¡¯t any brewing happening here, it was all administrative and beer storage, so there wasn¡¯t much to see other than a multitude of grey and brown robes. And yep, just like Minnova, it <i>reeked</i> of onions back here.


    I gave Annie an angry re as I held my nose shut.


    ¡°What?? It¡¯s not like <i>I </i>force them to keep onions in their pockets.¡± She protested.


    If only she knew¡­


    We were brought to a room I recognized, since we¡¯d been in it before. It was the conference chamber where we¡¯de to share our bottling tech. Our journeyman escort knocked at the door and announced, ¡°Brewers Goldstone and Roughtuff,¡± then pushed us through.


    The inside was anticlimactic. A simple square space hewn from the stone with arge circr wooden table in the center. No artwork, windows, or anything that could be remotely distracting was anywhere to be seen. One wall was taken up by an enormous ckboard, which was currently nk.


    A ring of two dozen dwarves sat around the table, giving us the stink eye, a bottle of Burning Brew and another of Dragonator before each. A couple of them had bright red lips and teary eyes. Malt was in attendance as well, rosy red lips and all. I spotted Master Blunt and gave him a nod, and he frowned but nodded back.


    Master Brewer Schist was here too, looking shamefaced and standing right next to the door. Annie and I stepped up beside him.


    ¡°Howdy ol¡¯ fishin¡¯ buddy. Are they bitin¡¯?¡± I asked sotto voce.


    Schist snorted. ¡°Harder than a gam of shaleshark.¡±


    ¡°Why, does gam gam have sharp dentures?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°If you two are quite done, I¡¯d like to begin.¡± A feminine voice enunciated from a dwarfess sitting beneath the ckboard. The voice set off every warning bell in my head at once. It was a voice that was used to being obeyed, and brooked no argument. It was a voice well known to middle-managers and front-of-store staff everywhere.


    ¡°Point of order, Guildmaster Monk.¡± A portly dwarf to my left said. ¡°We haven¡¯t been joined by Master Sprout yet.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯rete, and we won''t be waiting any further.¡± The Guildmaster rose to her feet. She was wearing standard ck Master¡¯s robes fitted loosely to her stocky dwarven frame. Her ensemble eschewed any armor besides an ornamental gorget and a set of silver bracers, and she had hair as white as Malt¡¯s own. It was done up in a short white ponytail, and her beard was a close cropped chin strap rather than the traditional braided affair. ¡°We¡¯re all busy dwarves, so I¡¯d like to begin. Any objections?¡±


    The room echoed as a couple dozen voices shouted, ¡°Nay!¡±


    ¡°Then,<strong></strong>I call this disciplinary hearing for Brewers Schist, Goldstone, and Roughtuff to order!¡±


    Wow, Deja Vu!

 Book 3: Chapter 62: Beer Goggles

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 62: Beer Goggles</h4>


    Guildmaster Monk was nothing at all like Guildmaster Malt. Thankfully she was <i>also </i>nothing like Guildmaster Browning. She was severe, yes, and domineering, but she wasn¡¯t demeaning or sarcastic. She was Guildmaster, and we were Guild members who¡¯d been naughty, and that was all there was to it.


    It still stung when she arched an eyebrow at us like we were petnt children.


    ¡°Master Brewer Schist!¡± Her voice was wrinkly with age, and had the cultured tones of an Academy graduate. ¡°What concerns me the most in all of this is <i>your</i> behaviour. I expected something like this to happen eventually, the Administration has been carelessly unting our traditions and craft such that it was inevitable, but I never would¡¯ve imagined that it would be<i> you</i> standing in front of me. Master Stein, would you please list the Guild Ordinances these two breweries broke?¡±


    An extremely short ck-haired dwarf went to the front of the room and began writing Ordinances down on the board as he read them out. There were¡­ quite a lot of them.


    ¡°Sale of unapproved brew.¡±


    ¡°Using unsanctioned brewing techniques.¡±


    ¡°Inciting a riot via promotion of excess consumption.¡±


    ¡°Sacred Brew not meeting Guild standards.¡±


    ¡°Unsanctioned use of Guild property.¡±


    ¡°Lack of regtion onion attire.¡±


    I¡¯d read the Guild Ordinances a dozen times by now, so none of the listed vitions were a surprise to me. The bigger surprise was that nothing had been done about us until now. Many of those Ordinances could apply to everyone in the brewing contest.


    The Guildmaster stared at us impassively as the vitions were listed off, then drummed her fingers on the table in the following silence.


    After an awkward minute of coughs and shuffling, she spoke. ¡°In total, fifty businesses, one major thoroughfare, and ¨C at minimum ¨C ten thousand gold worth of city infrastructure was damaged. Over one hundred injured, requiring over twenty hours of time from the [Healers]. What do you two have to say for yourself?¡±


    She asked it in the general sense, but her gaze was firmly locked on Schist.


    ¡°Maria¡­¡± Schist began.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you Maria me! You will refer to me as <i>Guildmaster Monk</i>!¡± The Guildmaster snapped back with the venom of a woman scorned.


    Oh. <i>Ohhhhhhhhh</i>.


    I stepped back and tried to blend into the wall. Beside me, Annie did much the same.


    Schist coughed and tried again. ¡°Guildmaster Monk. We¡¯re all aware of the ongoing tension between the Administration and guilds. As a long-standing Master of the Brewer¡¯s Guild, I¡¯m thankful the Guild has not chosen to take the same tack as the cksmith¡¯s Guild in this matter.¡±


    The Guildmaster scoffed. ¡°Those fools are ying right into the Administration¡¯s hands. We can see the runes on the wall, it¡¯s clear that these ¡®Octamillenial Events¡¯ are an attack on the guilds¡¯ power and prestige. We¡¯ve been content to let it pass us by before taking any action.¡±


    She nodded at Malt before continuing. ¡°Additionally, information provided to us from Guildmaster Malt has kept the touch of the Guild light on the neers from Minnova. However, <i>your actions</i> have forced our hand! We <i>cannot</i> allow such incidents to continue without throwing the guild into chaos! No less than five Master Brewers handed in a request for your resignation as a Master Brewer, Schist!¡±


    Now it was Schist¡¯s turn to scoff. ¡°Are any of them in the room right now? Would they care to make such a request to my <i>face!? </i>Not one year ago I proved myself the best damn Brewer in Kinshasa!<i></i>I was brewing for centuries before any of you even thought of churning Ancestral Seed! <i>¡± </i>He turned a baleful re on the assembled Master Brewers, and they quailed back.


    There was another moment of tense silence, but nobody spoke.


    The Guildmaster slumped back into her seat with a sigh. ¡°You see? Even we are divided. Fractious and stuffed full from a life of indulgence and fattened by our own brews. Too cowardly to be more than boats on a river, content to be swept away down Darkwater.¡±


    One of the Master Brewers, a portly dwarf with a blonde dovetail beard, squeaked hotly, ¡°Guildmaster ¨C !¡±


    ¡°Be SILENT, Master Faucet!¡± Monk smashed a fist on the table. ¡°If you are unable to stand up for your own convictions,<i> I WILL NOT DO IT FOR YOU</i>!¡±


    The dwarf shrank back into his seat, his face red and puffy. Those seated next to him scooted their chairs away slightly, trying to distance themselves from him with literal distance.


    ¡°We cannot deny the allegations.¡± Schist began. Annie flinched, and I held back a groan. Our defence! ¡°<i>However</i>, everything we did, we did for the good of the Brew! So much has changed in Crack since the First Brewer brewed. There are more gnomes! The East is now fully settled! The dungeons have be little more than ancient storehouses of the Gods ripe for us to loot. I can go out, right now, and have my leg lopped off and reced with a working limb of metal and magic. And yet, in all that time, our craft has not improved <i>one iota</i>!¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°It has no need for improvement!¡± Master Faucet scoffed. ¡°The Sacred Brew is perfect! Blessed by Barck himself and kept pure by generations of our Ancestors!¡±


    ¡°Barck is the God of <i>Innovation</i> you DAFT FOOL!¡± Schist spat. ¡°If you think he¡¯s truly happy with it, you¡¯re wee to wait a few years and get his opinion from a [Prophet]! If he¡¯s even willing to answer, you know how he is!¡±


    Another Master held up their hand, and Guildmaster Monk pointed at them. This time it was a red-haired dwarfess with an Eastern ent.


    ¡°Master Schist, we all appreciate the hard work you¡¯ve done as a Brewer. Can you tell us <i>why</i> you decided to throw it all away on what appears to be a whim?¡± She asked, pointing vaguely in my direction. ¡°And not even for a Feud! Just a simple wager against someone who isn¡¯t even a Master Brewer??¡± Her voice was terse and full of confusion.


    Schist looked in our direction, and a sad smile crossed his face before he turned back to the circle of Masters. ¡°Before I answer your question Master Mcgrist. How many of you have started using the bottling system presented by the Thirsty Goat earlier this year? And made changes to improve sanitation as rmended by Brewer Roughtuff?¡±


    Most of the Master Brewers shouted ¡°Aye¡±, excepting Master Faucet and a few others.


    Schist nodded. ¡°Most of you. I can tell you why; it saves an incredible amount of time, it¡¯s quite lucrative, and it results in <i>better beer</i>. Are there any objections to that? Or are you allcking so much in the craft that you can¡¯t tell gold from pyrite?¡±


    ¡°Now see here Master Schist! Are you calling the Sacred Brew <i>pyrite</i>!¡± Master Faucet objected hotly.


    ¡°No, you idiot! I¡¯m making a metaphor! The point is, you¡¯ve all <i>already</i> seen the positive in the changes proposed by the Thirsty Goat!¡± Schist cracked back. ¡°This contest was the first time, and perhaps thest, that I stretched my legs as a Master and saw where my skills could take me! Most of you haven¡¯t felt the need yet, but you will, just give it another couple centuries. Maria knows what I¡¯m talking about!¡±


    ¡°Pfah! Mushy talk fer Mushfolk!!¡± Faucet sneered.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a head harder than diamond, Faucet!¡±


    Schist and Faucet began to bicker, in slowly raising volume.


    Several of the Masters had begun nodding along with Schist as he spoke, and I felt some weighte off my shoulders. Our hard work, and Guildmaster Malt¡¯s hadn¡¯t been for nothing. The Guild was primed for change, and just needed a little push.


    I nced at Annie and gave a little waggle of my head. Her lips firmed and she nodded. It was time to make our pitch.


    I held up a hand.


    ¡°Brewer Roughtuff, I¡¯ll take your statementster.¡± The Guildmaster stated curtly over the din.


    ¡°I actually had a question?¡±


    ¡°That <i>was</i> a question. But you are <i>young</i>, and it is the wont of youth to ask foolish questions, I will allow another.¡±


    ¡°Is what we made actually Sacred Brew?¡±


    Monk gave me a curious look, and pulled at her beard. ¡°By the Guild Ordinances¡­ It would be difficult to say. Did you use the Ancestral Seed provided in a direct line from the First Brewer to the Thirsty Goat Brewery?¡±


    ¡°... No?¡±


    She gave me a nk look.


    ¡°I made my own.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ made your <i>own</i> Ancestral Seed.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°You made your own <i>Ancestral Seed</i>. The gift imparted by our Ancestors.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    She picked up the bottle of Dragonator beside her and sniffed it. She then took a small sip and shivered. ¡°Ugh, I can¡¯t get used to it. Let¡¯s assume I ept your preposterous im that you didn¡¯t use the proper Ancestral Seed, and I¡¯ve read the reports on your brewing apparatus, you certainly didn¡¯t use the traditional Brewing techniques to make this. And the bittering agent is different as well¡­¡±


    ¡°She invented tha bittering agent.¡± I pointed at Annie, who smiled nervously.


    At this point several of the other Masters had caught on to the topic of our conversation and were listening in.


    Annie and I had both agreed that springboarding off of Master Schist was going to be our best bet for getting the ¡®It¡¯s Not Sacred Brew¡¯ n to seed. <i>Especially</i> after the Redlip Riot. Who cared if the Guild said we couldn¡¯tpete as Brewers anymore? If they did, they¡¯d have to nail Schist to the wall too, because he¡¯d <i>never</i> let them censure us while he got off scot free. And Schist was the most popr Brewer in town ¨C it¡¯d be an even worse riot than Redlip.


    The Guildmaster ced the bottle of Dragonator down with distaste. ¡°Then tell me. If you didn¡¯t make Sacred Brew, then what <i>did </i>you make?¡±


    Schist was eyeing me with a ¡®what the hell are you doing?¡¯ look, but I ignored him and continued, raising my voice to address the crowd. ¡°What Master Schist was sayin¡¯ was true. The skills of the Master Brewers have stagnated. Of all tha crafts in Kinshasa, ours is the <i>only one</i> that only allows a single recipe. Fer all their faults, the cksmith¡¯s guild allows their smiths ta create more than just a single sword. Can an [Alchemist] be considered a Master if they only ever make one potion? Can ya truly call yourselves Masters if you¡¯ve never actually <i>contributed</i> to tha growth of yer craft?¡±


    ¡°Now see here, Brewer!¡± Master Faucet shouted. ¡°My n has been providing Sacred Brew to the dwarves of Kinshasa for millenia! If the guild Ordinances didn¡¯t allow it in this space, I would demand a Feud for your nder!¡±


    ¡°And Kinshasa no doubt thanks you fer yer service. But that was tha <i>city</i>. How have ya furthered the <i>craft</i> of Brewing? Have ya found a way to improve the carbonation? Ta reduce the failure rate? Since I arrived in Kinshasa I¡¯ve invented several machines that I¡¯ve shared willingly with you all, and that I know many of you use. Even the one piece of equipment I know fer certain every dwarf in here approves of ¨C the <i>Whistlemug</i> ¨C was invented by a <i>gnome</i>! Not a [Brewer], A gnomish <i>[MERCHANT]! </i>What have ya done fer Brewin¡¯ that can match <i>that</i>!?¡±


    Master Faucet flinched and copsed back into his seat. The Master Brewers were simrly struck dumb, and I sent a silent thank you to Whistlemop. I¡¯d have to make things up to him soon.


    Monk spun her hand in circles. ¡°What is your point, Brewer Roughtuff?¡±


    ¡°My point, Master Monk, is that perhaps these events are an opportunity fer tha Guild to grow. A King has no throne without a Kingdom and to be first means nothin¡¯ if there¡¯s no second. The best way fer us ta respect our Traditions and the Ancestors would be to make the Sacred Brew one among many. What we made was not Sacred Brew, it was just <i>beer</i>, brewed by [Brewers].¡±


    Everyone pped.


    Okay, actually, the room devolved into screaming and shouting and the axes came out. But a dwarf can dream.

 Book 3, Chapter 63: Lords and Ladies

    Book 3, Chapter 63: Lords and Ladies


    <strong>Three Days Later</strong>


    The two nobledies sat in the drawing room of Bentley Manor. Tourmaline was in her usual disguise as Wreck, wearing a simple set of nondescript brown leather. Opal was dressed in a blue and silver hauberk that set off her white goatee nicely.


    A half-eaten tter of snacksy on the table between them as they chatted.


    ¡°I heard about the riot, but I hadn¡¯t heard that they were censured by the guild.¡± Tourmaline said. ¡°What happened next?¡±


    Opal shook her head. ¡°From what Annie told me, they and Schist are required to hand over all the new brewing techniques they designed for the contest. They¡¯re also required to give an additional 10% of their ie to the Guild for the next century as a penalty, and are forbidden from brewing Sacred Brew for the same time frame.¡±


    ¡°... Does that mean they won¡¯t be able to brew at all?¡± Tourmaline¡¯s face didn¡¯t show a single crack, but her tone betrayed her worry.


    Opal grinned. ¡°The Guild<em>also</em>announced that Sacred Brew and ¡®beer¡¯ are now considered separate entities. They petitioned for a revision to the Ordinances and it was granted. Only Guild [Brewers] are legally allowed to brew Sacred Brew or sell beer publicly, but amateur brewers may now legally brew beer.¡±


    Tourmaline sat bolt upright. ¡°Is that possible? Is it even possible for amateurs to obtain the necessary ingredients?¡±


    ¡°I have it from a good source that a certain book is currently circting the market. It teaches how to get the required yeasts, and includes a basic primer on safe variants of pineweed for vouring.¡± Opal sighed. ¡°Said source taught me the basics. At<em>length.¡±</em>


    Tourmaline raised an eyebrow. ¡°Now that is certainly news¡­ Is Pete selling the book? So soon? I can¡¯t imagine all the Master Brewers are happy about that.¡±


    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s being sold by the Greybough Consortium. There¡¯s a fairlyrge protest in front of the elven Embassy right now. It helped force the Guild''s hand.¡± Opal tittered.


    ¡°How did Pete manage that?¡±


    ¡°He partnered with the Ambassador from Awemedinand.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°No more dangerous than the current state of the city, Tourmaline.¡± Opal sighed again, and drank from her tankard. ¡°Any news from Whitewall?¡±


    Tourmaline nodded. ¡°The riot has drawn the attention of the Greybeards. Grandfather was talking about it. They were focused on the cksmiths before. I doubt this news will help when it reaches their ears.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not good.¡± Opal drew in her breath.


    ¡°The King will be happy about it, though.¡±


    ¡°The King? Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He was hoping to use the contests to mix things up with the guilds. Based on your news it looks to be seeding. Harmsson¡¯s faction was using the contests to rabble rouse, so I¡¯m d something good came from them.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Harmsson.¡± Opal frowned. ¡°Pete says that he¡¯ll be at the big beer festival he and Schist will be putting on. Their ¡®beerfest¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Pete<em>invited</em>him. Though he ims it was<em>Schist¡¯s</em>fault.¡±


    Tourmaline frowned. ¡°When I asked them for news of Harmsson, I didn¡¯t want them to put themselves in his<em>way</em>.¡±


    ¡°Oh, they know.¡± Opal frowned. ¡°Annie says that between butting heads with the Guild, their alliance with the Pot Corporation, and the riot, they¡¯ve ended up fairly closely aligned to Harmsson¡¯s Great Charter. And they like what he¡¯s been doing for Yellowwall. They aren¡¯t allying with him, but Schist gave the okay for him toe and make a speech at beerfest.¡±


    Tourmaline tapped her fingers on her chair¡¯s arm. ¡°That will interest Grandfather. He¡¯s been wanting to meet with Harmsson incognito. Neutral ground like a festival could be good for that.¡±


    ¡°The Duke wants to meet with Harmsson??¡± Opal gawped. ¡°I thought he hated him.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ after Pete told me about Lord ckbeard''s alliance with Harmsson, the movements of many smaller nobles have be clearer. Harmsson¡¯s reach in Administration is quite deep. Grandfather thinks Harmsson actually has a good chance at enacting real change, especially for the gnomes.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t Harmsson just an opportunist? Why would he actually change things?¡±


    ¡°Grandfather thinks Harmsson is a true believer. Too many of his early projects had a real positive impact, and he seems to be adept at tricking the nobility into helping their ¡®lessers¡¯. That¡¯s why he wants to meet him.¡±


    Opal¡¯s expression turned musing. ¡°I can send the information on to Annie. Do you want to let Harmsson know the Duke will be there?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ I think we should leave it as a surprise. I don¡¯t want Harmsson getting ideas.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of ideas¡­¡± Opal¡¯s tone grew hesitant. ¡°Do you have anything new for Lady Barnes? For your¡­ mother?¡±


    Tourmaline shook her head, her jaw taut. ¡°No¡­ thetest potions I¡¯ve designed will destroy the poison, but will probably kill her while she¡¯s still so weak.¡±


    ¡°The [Healers]¡­¡±


    ¡°The poison is resistant to it. They can¡¯t do anything.¡±


    ¡°Oh Tourmaline¡­.¡±


    ¡°Grandfather is still being pressured to remove her as his heir, but he won¡¯t do it while she¡¯s still alive.¡±


    ¡°The ckbeards?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tourmaline thumped her fist onto her armored knee. ¡°Damn them! I just<em>know</em>they were involved in this somehow! Mother and their Patriarch never saw eye to eye.¡±


    Opal nodded. ¡°And the Barnse¡¯s have always backed the current King¡¯s attempts to pull power from the nobility and Greybeards. Your uncles¡­¡±


    ¡°Useless as usual. They wouldn¡¯t want to rock the boat. Ugh, this is all because the King was making noise about mother bing heir apparent.¡±


    There was a beat of silence as the two finished off thest of the treats and discussed the events of the Redlip riot and the new beers. Tourmaline was especially interested in learning the magic behind Riverside¡¯s spice trick.


    The twodies partedpany with a hug, and went their separate ways, each with news to share.


    ¡ª


    The mood around Harmsson¡¯s little campaign office was electric these days. Between the Redlip riot, an explosion at one of the cksmiths, the cheating in the Cooking contents, and strong unrest sentiment due to the neglect of Yellowwall, chaos reigned in Kinshasa.


    And chaos was good for Harmsson.


    At this exact moment, Lord Harmsson was sitting at his desk with one leg propped up. He¡¯d been doing a<em>lot</em>of walking around these days. After meeting with city administrators to finish up the water lines to Yellowwall, and meeting with minor lords to discuss his ns, he was tuckered out.


    Because he was an old dwarf.


    Damnit, he¡¯d never even gotten this ancient back on Earth. Now he understood why all the old geezers said to take care of your<em>knees</em>.


    Lord Newcastle stood before him holding a sheaf of paperwork. The middle-aged dwarf was just now beginning to show hints of white in his beard, unless it was dyed. Newcastle was a hard worker, but he was also the kind of dwarf who wasn¡¯t willing to wait for what he considered his due. In this case, the respect due to age.


    Harmsson would have traded him a white beard for his knees in an instant.


    Newcastle gave him a serious look, and Harmsson sighed as he sent everyone else out of the room.


    Newcastle activated a magical device to protect against eavesdroppers, then cleared his throat. ¡°The matter with the cksmith shop explosion does not seem to have been traced back to us. Everyone is continuing to me the guild.¡±


    Harmsson steepled his fingers, then caught himself and stopped. Dammit! He was not going to turn into some cliche cartoon viin! ¡°Good. Did the team get out without injuries this time?¡±


    Newcastle snickered. ¡°Yes. No Godsdamn<em>ducks</em>hanging around.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm. I am still not sure I fully believe Sam¡¯s story about that. A duck??¡±


    ¡°Yes! The durn fool had one tied up in his garden. I am amazed it did not eat him.¡±


    Which wasn¡¯t quite what Harmsson meant. A<em>duck</em>? His team gave them the same reverence someone from home would give a bloody<em>croc</em>. He¡¯d need to go look them up one day.


    ¡°Any other injuries? I am still quite displeased about that apprentice. He didn¡¯t deserve that.¡±


    ¡°No sir. And we did manage to get him a good prosthetic through secret channels. It shouldn¡¯t be traced back to us.¡±


    ¡°Good, good. I am happy that everyone is still performing to expectations. Do Sam and Drum require any supplies?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Drum was asking for more anti-scrying powder, and Sam needs more Boomdust.¡±


    T¡°Very well, get on that. Have we found out where the Boomdust came from yet?¡± It was his best lead on a Chosen other than Raspberrysyrup, though it was always possible that it¡¯de from her in the first ce. He had his doubts though, she didn¡¯t strike him as the type to have that kind of knowledge.


    ¡°No. It is buried somewhere in City Hall in Minnova, and Lord Bronzeson just doesn''t have the same dwarfpower out there.¡±


    Harmsson sighed. ¡°Damn ckbeard. He had a simple task, and he miffed it up sopletely.¡±


    ¡°I still say you should cut him loose.¡± Newcastle shook his head. ¡°He is the worst kind of noble.¡±


    Harmsson almostughed out loud. If only Newcastle was capable of self introspection.


    ¡°Where is Lady Vi?¡± Newcastle asked, looking around. ¡°I had some news for her as well.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s out with Marigold doingdy things.¡± Harmsson sighed. Lady Vi was the mostpetent of his underlings, and it was always painful when she was gone. And of course, he was practically helpless without his lovely secretary Marigold to keep track of his schedule. The elfess was as punctual as she was tantalizing.


    ¡°Boxing?¡± Newcastle asked with curiosity.


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Tch. I¡¯ll never understand dwarfesses. Give me a good old game of hitball any day.¡±


    ¡°Mmm¡­¡± Harmsson hrm''d nomittally.


    There was a knock at the door, and Harmsson motioned Newcastle along. ¡°Anything more?¡±


    ¡°No sir.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Come in!¡±


    A young dwarf entered carrying a letter and a box. Harmsson gave him a small nod. ¡°Good evening, Micah. Mail for me?¡±


    ¡°Aye Lord Harmsson. Bando passed it on.¡±


    ¡°Must be the mail from the Thirsty Goat. Here¡¯s a gold for the trouble.¡±


    ¡°Thankee sir.¡± Micah swept some sweat from his brow and gave an eager smile. ¡°Anything more you need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Stand there and look sharp for now.¡±


    Harmsson read over the letter once, then twice. His eyebrows raised. ¡°They are actually going ahead with their little beer fest? After the riot? I am surprised the guild is allowing it!¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡± Micah agreed. ¡°Bando is looking forward to it. He says maybe he¡¯ll finally find ¡®imself a dwarfess, what with bein¡¯ a part of an up-anding n like the Goldstones. He says they¡¯re gonna be hirin¡¯ a lot more guards this time, and limiting drinks. Schist is makin¡¯ his beer less spicy too.¡±


    ¡°Ach, shame. I liked it.¡± Newcastle harrumphed. ¡°The rarified taste of a Riverside True Brew with a<em>kick</em>worthy of a unigoat!¡±


    Harmsson carefully didn¡¯tment. He was managing to keep his disdain for the dwarven<em>Sacred Brew</em>under wraps, mostly by not drinking it if he could avoid it. ¡°What¡¯s in the box?¡± He asked, pointing under Micah¡¯s arm.


    ¡°Bando sent it along sir. It¡¯s a fresh batch of Dragonator!¡±


    Newcastle didn¡¯t bother keeping the disdain from<em>his</em>voice. ¡°Pfah! Slop worthy of pigs! The Thirsty Goat is lucky the dragons left so long ago, or they would surely have fried them for their insolence.<em>Dragon</em>ator indeed!¡±


    Well, if<em>Newcastle</em>objected¡­ Harmsson motioned for Micah to pass him the box, and the young dwarf popped it open and passed over arge dark green bottle. Harmsson paused as he looked at it. It reminded him of home. When he¡¯d first seen the now ubiquitous bottles, he¡¯d been suspicious at first of a Chosen¡¯s involvement, but it was just<em>ss</em>made by local artisans,


    Harmsson popped the top, again struck by deja vu. It really<em>was</em>like a bottle from home. Smoke immediately poured from the open top and Harmsson stared at it warily. ¡°Is this safe to drink?¡±


    Micah gave a gap-toothed grin. ¡°Aye sir! It¡¯ll knock you out if you drink it too fast, and leave you right drunk, it will!¡±


    Harmsson lifted the bottle to his lips with trepidation. He took a hesitant sip and swished the beer around his mouth experimentally.


    It certainly tasted different. He could see why Newcastle hated it ¨C it was<em>too</em>bloody different. It tasted almost nothing like a regr Sacred Brew. In fact, if he wasn¡¯t mistaken, it had the same smooth texture of a Guinness from back home. He quickly grabbed a nearby ss and poured some of the Dragonator inside. It was quickly luded by smoke, but the head showed the clear signs of a Nitro brew.


    And the taste¡­


    It tasted like a bock from home.


    Like<em>home</em>. Harmssons¡¯ face grew dour.


    ¡°How popr is this Dragonator?¡± He asked Micah. ¡°And the Thirsty Goat in general?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s real popr sir! I¡¯ve even heard tell that they might beat Riverside! And I dunno if you¡¯ve heard, but the Guild has opened up brewin¡¯ fer everyone! I¡¯m makin¡¯ meself a chestnut beer! I¡¯m gonna be the next First Brewer, I am!¡±


    Harmsson frowned. ¡°Is that true?¡± He nced at Newcastle, who shrugged.


    Micah nodded eagerly. ¡°[Bard¡¯s] are just starting to spread it around now, sir!¡±


    Harmsson chose his next words carefully. ¡°Would you say that the Thirsty Goat has a¡­<emrge influence</em>¡­ on the local brewing scene, then?¡±


    Micahughed. ¡°Sir! If this spreads to the other cities, the Thirsty Goat will have influenced every damn dwarf in Crack! Maybe the world!¡±


    Harmsson saw red in his vision, but kept from swearing with herculean effort. ¡°Thank you for the news, Micah. You can go.¡±


    ¡°Yessir!¡± The eager youth gave a closed fist salute to the chest and ran out, mming the door behind him.


    ¡°Do you think¡­¡± Newcastle asked, watching Harmsson¡¯s face with concern.


    ¡°Yes! This drink<em>proves</em>it!¡± Harmsson growled, pointing at the bottle. ¡°It is<em>too big</em>a technological leap. It<em>has</em>to be him! Have Bronzeson investigate Peter Roughtuff, see if he is the one who invented Boomdust. It should be easier to approach it from the other way round. If Bronzeson can not do it, tell him to hire a [Detective]. I want to know<em>everything</em>about Roughtuff before that beerfest!¡±


    ¡°And if he is a Chosen?¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s face fell, and he copsed back into his chair. He¡¯d beenining about his knees, but now he truly felt<em>old</em>. The weight of centuries on his back, suffocating and growing day by day.


    ¡°I liked him, you know.¡± Harmson¡¯s voice was weary. ¡°A dwarf after my own heart, doing what he could to improve lives. I was content to let that fool Raspberrysyrup serve as a bellweather, but Pete seems cagey. And he has a real chance at beating me. If¡­ if he<em>is</em>one of the other Chosen¡­¡±


    Harmsson nced back over at the bottle of Dragonator. If Pete was one of the Chosen, all the little things suddenly fit into ce.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send word to Bronzeson.¡± Newcastle murmured. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    Harmsson frowned. ¡°Last week¡¯s spy report had more to say about that beerfest. Are members of the Council of Greybeards really going to be there?¡±


    Newcastle nodded. ¡°Yes. They¡¯re interested in seeing what all the fuss is about.¡±


    ¡°They nevere out of their holes in Whitewall¡­¡±


    ¡°They are for this, sir.¡±


    Harmsson drummed his fingers on the table and heaved a sigh. ¡°A shame¡­ I was actually looking forward to a fun party. For now, see to it that Adventurers loyal to us get hired to guard the beerfest, and get our people inside. If the Councilmembers<em>do</em>show up, we¡¯ll be poised to strike. And if Pete<em>did</em>invent Boomdust.¡± Harmsson¡¯s voice grew pained. ¡°Then¡­ we¡¯ll set Ambermine loose during themotion.¡±


    ¡°What about Sam, sir?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll worry about that when the timees. Now, leave me.¡±


    Newcastle bowed his way out of the room as Thad Harmsson silently drank himself into oblivion.

 Book 3: Chapter 64: Lords and Ladies

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 64: Lords and Ladies</h4>


    The two nobledies sat in the drawing room of Bentley Manor. Tourmaline was in her usual disguise as Wreck, wearing a simple set of nondescript brown leather. Opal was dressed in a blue and silver hauberk that set off her white goatee nicely.


    A half-eaten tter of snacksy on the table between them as they chatted.


    ¡°I heard about the riot, but I hadn¡¯t heard that they were censured by the guild.¡± Tourmaline said. ¡°What happened next?¡±


    Opal shook her head. ¡°From what Annie told me, they and Schist are required to hand over all the new brewing techniques they designed for the contest. They¡¯re also required to give an additional 10% of their ie to the Guild for the next century as a penalty, and are forbidden from brewing Sacred Brew for the same time frame.¡±


    ¡°... Does that mean they won¡¯t be able to brew at all?¡± Tourmaline¡¯s face didn¡¯t show a single crack, but her tone betrayed her worry.


    Opal grinned. ¡°The Guild <i>also</i> announced that Sacred Brew and ¡®beer¡¯ are now considered separate entities. They petitioned for a revision to the Ordinances and it was granted. Only Guild [Brewers] are legally allowed to brew Sacred Brew or sell beer publicly, but amateur brewers may now legally brew beer.¡±


    Tourmaline sat bolt upright. ¡°Is that possible? Is it even possible for amateurs to obtain the necessary ingredients?¡±


    ¡°I have it from a good source that a certain book is currently circting the market. It teaches how to get the required yeasts, and includes a basic primer on safe variants of pineweed for vouring.¡± Opal sighed. ¡°Said source taught me the basics. At <i>length.¡±</i>


    Tourmaline raised an eyebrow. ¡°Now that is certainly news¡­ Is Pete selling the book? So soon? I can¡¯t imagine all the Master Brewers are happy about that.¡±


    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s being sold by the Greybough Consortium. There¡¯s a fairlyrge protest in front of the elven Embassy right now. It helped force the Guild''s hand.¡± Opal tittered.


    ¡°How did Pete manage that?¡±


    ¡°He partnered with the Ambassador from Awemedinand.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°No more dangerous than the current state of the city, Tourmaline.¡± Opal sighed again, and drank from her tankard. ¡°Any news from Whitewall?¡±


    Tourmaline nodded. ¡°The riot has drawn the attention of the Greybeards. Grandfather was talking about it. They were focused on the cksmiths before. I doubt this news will help when it reaches their ears.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not good.¡± Opal drew in her breath.


    ¡°The King will be happy about it, though.¡±


    ¡°The King? Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He was hoping to use the contests to mix things up with the guilds. Based on your news it looks to be seeding. Harmsson¡¯s faction was using the contests to rabble rouse, so I¡¯m d something good came from them.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Harmsson.¡± Opal frowned. ¡°Pete says that he¡¯ll be at the big beer festival he and Schist will be putting on. Their ¡®beerfest¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Pete <i>invited</i> him. Though he ims it was <i>Schist¡¯s </i>fault.¡±


    Tourmaline frowned. ¡°When I asked them for news of Harmsson, I didn¡¯t want them to put themselves in his <i>way</i>.¡±


    ¡°Oh, they know.¡± Opal frowned. ¡°Annie says that between butting heads with the Guild, their alliance with the Pot Corporation, and the riot, they¡¯ve ended up fairly closely aligned to Harmsson¡¯s Great Charter. And they like what he¡¯s been doing for Yellowwall. They aren¡¯t allying with him, but Schist gave the okay for him toe and make a speech at beerfest.¡±


    Tourmaline tapped her fingers on her chair¡¯s arm. ¡°That will interest Grandfather. He¡¯s been wanting to meet with Harmsson incognito. Neutral ground like a festival could be good for that.¡±


    ¡°The Duke wants to meet with Harmsson??¡± Opal gawped. ¡°I thought he hated him.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ after Pete told me about Lord ckbeard''s alliance with Harmsson, the movements of many smaller nobles have be clearer. Harmsson¡¯s reach in Administration is quite deep. Grandfather thinks Harmsson actually has a good chance at enacting real change, especially for the gnomes.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t Harmsson just an opportunist? Why would he actually change things?¡±


    ¡°Grandfather thinks Harmsson is a true believer. Too many of his early projects had a real positive impact, and he seems to be adept at tricking the nobility into helping their ¡®lessers¡¯. That¡¯s why he wants to meet him.¡±


    Opal¡¯s expression turned musing. ¡°I can send the information on to Annie. Do you want to let Harmsson know the Duke will be there?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ I think we should leave it as a surprise. I don¡¯t want Harmsson getting ideas.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of ideas¡­¡± Opal¡¯s tone grew hesitant. ¡°Do you have anything new for Lady Barnes? For your¡­ mother?¡±


    Tourmaline shook her head, her jaw taut. ¡°No¡­ thetest potions I¡¯ve designed will destroy the poison, but will probably kill her while she¡¯s still so weak.¡±


    ¡°The [Healers]¡­¡±


    ¡°The poison is resistant to it. They can¡¯t do anything.¡±


    ¡°Oh Tourmaline¡­.¡±


    ¡°Grandfather is still being pressured to remove her as his heir, but he won¡¯t do it while she¡¯s still alive.¡±


    ¡°The ckbeards?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tourmaline thumped her fist onto her armored knee. ¡°Damn them! I just <i>know</i> they were involved in this somehow! Mother and their Patriarch never saw eye to eye.¡±


    Opal nodded. ¡°And the Barnse¡¯s have always backed the current King¡¯s attempts to pull power from the nobility and Greybeards. Your uncles¡­¡±


    ¡°Useless as usual. They wouldn¡¯t want to rock the boat. Ugh, this is all because the King was making noise about mother bing heir apparent.¡±


    There was a beat of silence as the two finished off thest of the treats and discussed the events of the Redlip riot and the new beers. Tourmaline was especially interested in learning the magic behind Riverside¡¯s spice trick.


    The twodies partedpany with a hug, and went their separate ways, each with news to share.


    ¡ª


    The mood around Harmsson¡¯s little campaign office was electric these days. Between the Redlip riot, an explosion at one of the cksmiths, the cheating in the Cooking contents, and strong unrest sentiment due to the neglect of Yellowwall, chaos reigned in Kinshasa.


    And chaos was good for Harmsson.


    At this exact moment, Lord Harmsson was sitting at his desk with one leg propped up. He¡¯d been doing a <i>lot</i> of walking around these days. After meeting with city administrators to finish up the water lines to Yellowwall, and meeting with minor lords to discuss his ns, he was tuckered out.


    Because he was an old dwarf.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the vition.


    Damnit, he¡¯d never even gotten this ancient back on Earth. Now he understood why all the old geezers said to take care of your <i>knees</i>.


    Lord Newcastle stood before him holding a sheaf of paperwork. The middle-aged dwarf was just now beginning to show hints of white in his beard, unless it was dyed. Newcastle was a hard worker, but he was also the kind of dwarf who wasn¡¯t willing to wait for what he considered his due. In this case, the respect due to age.


    Harmsson would have traded him a white beard for his knees in an instant.


    Newcastle gave him a serious look, and Harmsson sighed as he sent everyone else out of the room.


    Newcastle activated a magical device to protect against eavesdroppers, then cleared his throat. ¡°The matter with the cksmith shop explosion does not seem to have been traced back to us. Everyone is continuing to me the guild.¡±


    Harmsson steepled his fingers, then caught himself and stopped. Dammit! He was not going to turn into some cliche cartoon viin! ¡°Good. Did the team get out without injuries this time?¡±


    Newcastle snickered. ¡°Yes. No Godsdamn <i>ducks</i> hanging around.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm. I am still not sure I fully believe Sam¡¯s story about that. A duck??¡±


    ¡°Yes! The durn fool had one tied up in his garden. I am amazed it did not eat him.¡±


    Which wasn¡¯t quite what Harmsson meant. A <i>duck</i>? His team gave them the same reverence someone from home would give a bloody <i>croc</i>. He¡¯d need to go look them up one day.


    ¡°Any other injuries? I am still quite displeased about that apprentice. He didn¡¯t deserve that.¡±


    ¡°No sir. And we did manage to get him a good prosthetic through secret channels. It shouldn¡¯t be traced back to us.¡±


    ¡°Good, good. I am happy that everyone is still performing to expectations. Do Sam and Drum require any supplies?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Drum was asking for more anti-scrying powder, and Sam needs more Boomdust.¡±


    T¡°Very well, get on that. Have we found out where the Boomdust came from yet?¡± It was his best lead on a Chosen other than Raspberrysyrup, though it was always possible that it¡¯de from her in the first ce. He had his doubts though, she didn¡¯t strike him as the type to have that kind of knowledge.


    ¡°No. It is buried somewhere in City Hall in Minnova, and Lord Bronzeson just doesn''t have the same dwarfpower out there.¡±


    Harmsson sighed. ¡°Damn ckbeard. He had a simple task, and he miffed it up sopletely.¡±


    ¡°I still say you should cut him loose.¡± Newcastle shook his head. ¡°He is the worst kind of noble.¡±


    Harmsson almostughed out loud. If only Newcastle was capable of self introspection.


    ¡°Where is Lady Vi?¡± Newcastle asked, looking around. ¡°I had some news for her as well.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s out with Marigold doingdy things.¡± Harmsson sighed. Lady Vi was the mostpetent of his underlings, and it was always painful when she was gone. And of course, he was practically helpless without his lovely secretary Marigold to keep track of his schedule. The elfess was as punctual as she was tantalizing.


    ¡°Boxing?¡± Newcastle asked with curiosity.


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°Tch. I¡¯ll never understand dwarfesses. Give me a good old game of hitball any day.¡±


    ¡°Mmm¡­¡± Harmsson hrm''d nomittally.


    There was a knock at the door, and Harmsson motioned Newcastle along. ¡°Anything more?¡±


    ¡°No sir.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Come in!¡±


    A young dwarf entered carrying a letter and a box. Harmsson gave him a small nod. ¡°Good evening, Micah. Mail for me?¡±


    ¡°Aye Lord Harmsson. Bando passed it on.¡±


    ¡°Must be the mail from the Thirsty Goat. Here¡¯s a gold for the trouble.¡±


    ¡°Thankee sir.¡± Micah swept some sweat from his brow and gave an eager smile. ¡°Anything more you need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Stand there and look sharp for now.¡±


    Harmsson read over the letter once, then twice. His eyebrows raised. ¡°They are actually going ahead with their little beer fest? After the riot? I am surprised the guild is allowing it!¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡± Micah agreed. ¡°Bando is looking forward to it. He says maybe he¡¯ll finally find ¡®imself a dwarfess, what with bein¡¯ a part of an up-anding n like the Goldstones. He says they¡¯re gonna be hirin¡¯ a lot more guards this time, and limiting drinks. Schist is makin¡¯ his beer less spicy too.¡±


    ¡°Ach, shame. I liked it.¡± Newcastle harrumphed. ¡°The rarified taste of a Riverside True Brew with a <i>kick</i> worthy of a unigoat!¡±


    Harmsson carefully didn¡¯tment. He was managing to keep his disdain for the dwarven <i>Sacred Brew</i> under wraps, mostly by not drinking it if he could avoid it. ¡°What¡¯s in the box?¡± He asked, pointing under Micah¡¯s arm.


    ¡°Bando sent it along sir. It¡¯s a fresh batch of Dragonator!¡±


    Newcastle didn¡¯t bother keeping the disdain from <i>his</i> voice. ¡°Pfah! Slop worthy of pigs! The Thirsty Goat is lucky the dragons left so long ago, or they would surely have fried them for their insolence. <i>Dragon</i>ator indeed!¡±


    Well, if <i>Newcastle</i> objected¡­ Harmsson motioned for Micah to pass him the box, and the young dwarf popped it open and passed over arge dark green bottle. Harmsson paused as he looked at it. It reminded him of home. When he¡¯d first seen the now ubiquitous bottles, he¡¯d been suspicious at first of a Chosen¡¯s involvement, but it was just <i>ss </i>made by local artisans,


    Harmsson popped the top, again struck by deja vu. It really <i>was</i> like a bottle from home. Smoke immediately poured from the open top and Harmsson stared at it warily. ¡°Is this safe to drink?¡±


    Micah gave a gap-toothed grin. ¡°Aye sir! It¡¯ll knock you out if you drink it too fast, and leave you right drunk, it will!¡±


    Harmsson lifted the bottle to his lips with trepidation. He took a hesitant sip and swished the beer around his mouth experimentally.


    It certainly tasted different. He could see why Newcastle hated it ¨C it was <i>too</i> bloody different. It tasted almost nothing like a regr Sacred Brew. In fact, if he wasn¡¯t mistaken, it had the same smooth texture of a Guinness from back home. He quickly grabbed a nearby ss and poured some of the Dragonator inside. It was quickly luded by smoke, but the head showed the clear signs of a Nitro brew.


    And the taste¡­


    It tasted like a bock from home.


    Like <i>home</i>. Harmssons¡¯ face grew dour.


    ¡°How popr is this Dragonator?¡± He asked Micah. ¡°And the Thirsty Goat in general?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s real popr sir! I¡¯ve even heard tell that they might beat Riverside! And I dunno if you¡¯ve heard, but the Guild has opened up brewin¡¯ fer everyone! I¡¯m makin¡¯ meself a chestnut beer! I¡¯m gonna be the next First Brewer, I am!¡±


    Harmsson frowned. ¡°Is that true?¡± He nced at Newcastle, who shrugged.


    Micah nodded eagerly. ¡°[Bard¡¯s] are just starting to spread it around now, sir!¡±


    Harmsson chose his next words carefully. ¡°Would you say that the Thirsty Goat has a¡­ <irge influence</i>¡­ on the local brewing scene, then?¡±


    Micahughed. ¡°Sir! If this spreads to the other cities, the Thirsty Goat will have influenced every damn dwarf in Crack! Maybe the world!¡±


    Harmsson saw red in his vision, but kept from swearing with herculean effort. ¡°Thank you for the news, Micah. You can go.¡±


    ¡°Yessir!¡± The eager youth gave a closed fist salute to the chest and ran out, mming the door behind him.


    ¡°Do you think¡­¡± Newcastle asked, watching Harmsson¡¯s face with concern.


    ¡°Yes! This drink <i>proves</i> it!¡± Harmsson growled, pointing at the bottle. ¡°It is <i>too big</i> a technological leap. It <i>has</i> to be him! Have Bronzeson investigate Peter Roughtuff, see if he is the one who invented Boomdust. It should be easier to approach it from the other way round. If Bronzeson can not do it, tell him to hire a [Detective]. I want to know <i>everything</i> about Roughtuff before that beerfest!¡±


    ¡°And if he is a Chosen?¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s face fell, and he copsed back into his chair. He¡¯d beenining about his knees, but now he truly felt <i>old</i>. The weight of centuries on his back, suffocating and growing day by day.


    ¡°I liked him, you know.¡± Harmson¡¯s voice was weary. ¡°A dwarf after my own heart, doing what he could to improve lives. I was content to let that fool Raspberrysyrup serve as a bellweather, but Pete seems cagey. And he has a real chance at beating me. If¡­ if he <i>is </i>one of the other Chosen¡­¡±


    Harmsson nced back over at the bottle of Dragonator. If Pete was one of the Chosen, all the little things suddenly fit into ce.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send word to Bronzeson.¡± Newcastle murmured. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    Harmsson frowned. ¡°Last week¡¯s spy report had more to say about that beerfest. Are members of the Council of Greybeards really going to be there?¡±


    Newcastle nodded. ¡°Yes. They¡¯re interested in seeing what all the fuss is about.¡±


    ¡°They nevere out of their holes in Whitewall¡­¡±


    ¡°They are for this, sir.¡±


    Harmsson drummed his fingers on the table and heaved a sigh. ¡°A shame¡­ I was actually looking forward to a fun party. For now, see to it that Adventurers loyal to us get hired to guard the beerfest, and get our people inside. If the Councilmembers <i>do</i> show up, we¡¯ll be poised to strike. And if Pete <i>did</i> invent Boomdust.¡± Harmsson¡¯s voice grew pained. ¡°Then¡­ we¡¯ll set Ambermine loose during themotion.¡±


    ¡°What about Sam, sir?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll worry about that when the timees. Now, leave me.¡±


    Newcastle bowed his way out of the room as Thad Harmsson silently drank himself into oblivion.

 Book 3: Chapter 65: The Garden of Graves

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 65: The Garden of Graves</h4>


    The next month was a blur, not because we were busy ¨C we were, but not that busy ¨C no it was a blur because it was so <i>fun</i>. I didn¡¯t even have time to write in my journal with all the fun I was having.


    I wrote everything in my beer journal though!


    With the floodgates open, we began trying absolutely everything, just to see what stuck to the wall. That included testing every different kind of hops I could get my hands on, and wasn¡¯t our only hop distributor happy about that! I gave some to Joseph to see if he could grow them in the elven kingdoms and help drive down the prices. He¡¯d agreed, and I couldn¡¯t <i>wait</i> to see the results. Right now we were buying up most of the hops in the city and I felt bad for all the craft brewers.


    And there were <i>so many craft brewers!!</i> There wasn¡¯t a day that went by that some young and excited dwarf came by the shop and asked for brewing advice. We couldn¡¯t give them our forms or Ancestral Seed (that was still controlled) but I could point them in the direction of other craft brewers with working yeasts and offer bittering ¡®advice¡¯.


    They brought beer for me to try too! Most of it was awful, but a few were turning out some great craft Ales! Four different dwarves came rushing in over the course of the month to announce that they¡¯d been Blessed or Titled due to finding their calling in life. They ran the gamut of miners, adventurers,bourers, and minstrels ¨C every walk of life.


    And now they could live a life of exploring what they loved.


    I couldn¡¯t help but feel that this was how Titling was supposed to work. It wasn¡¯t that you worked hard at something for ages and ages until the Gods rewarded you for your hard work. Instead, you were meant to find something that <i>clicked </i>for you, and the Gods would take notice.


    Kirk told me that was closer to the human approach, which was why the short-lived species still had plenty of Titled.


    It was a problem for another time and another Chosen ¨C I had my hands full already.


    In one week we¡¯d made the following beers:


    A Saison ¨C a light pale ale with added fruity adjuncts and extra bottle conditioning for extra fizz. The favourite so far was a mix of elderberry and the saaz hops with a <i>hint</i> of Goldstone bitters. Saisions were best paired with chicken or any other kind of white, light, meat. It seemed to cause severe burping in most dwarves, which had¡­ interesting results when drunk with Ass ster.


    A Sour ¨C with the need for salt out of the way, we were free to y around with different kinds of sour. They continued to be the most popr with Gnomes, and I ended up sending all our test brews to Copperpot. The most popr style among our dwarven clientele was made using a spicy fruit from Greentree called a Crim. The result reminded me of a Spicy Mango beer using Cayenne Peppers that I¡¯d had in California. I couldn¡¯t recall the exact brewery that made it, but it¡¯d been amazing. I put the beer¡¯s poprity down to all those who loved Riverside¡¯s Burning Brew, but couldn¡¯t quite take the heat.


    And finally, I managed to get my Protein Conversion spell to work consistently enough to whip up a small batch of barley brew that didn¡¯t cause everyone to copse with agonizing cramps. The team dered the brew ¡®average¡¯, though Kirk really liked it, and Johnsson swore it had a delicious balcony aftertaste. It would take more time for me to get the spell working consistently enough for mass production, but for now I was confident enough to start working on my next spell.


    A basic Fireball.


    Because, of course. And screw the haters! Throwing fire was a man¡¯s - er - dwarf¡¯s romance!


    My new brews quest had updated to a nice new total as a result of all that hard work.


    <strong>Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>More! MORE!</i><i></i>


    <i>Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</i><i></i>


    <i>Drinks Invented: 14/16</i>


    <i>Rewards: +1 Strength</i>


    Yessiree! I¡¯d been a busy dwarf!


    This is all to say that our little event with Schist kind of crept up on me. Not to say I wasn¡¯t prepared! But between all the brewing, and the additional therapy sessions, rxation sessions, and more, it felt like the end of the fifth month came screaming up with all the subtlety of Penelope demanding a beer.


    We took extra precautions for the party this time. We chose one of thergest, most secure, and most venerable beer gardens in Kinshasa for the party ¨C an enormous open seating area in Redwall called ¡®The Garden of Graves.¡¯ In typical morbid dwarven fashion, it was the location where the dwarven defenders of the young country had won a major battle against the monsters that once controlled Crack. Nobody had wanted to build on the site, and over the millennia therge open space had been converted to a beer garden.


    Because what could be more honorable to the ancestors than throwing a drinking party over their graves?


    Mausoleums were interspersed with dwarven pic drinking tables, and you had to watch where you stepped to avoid tripping on tombstones. Strings of Solstones overhead lent everything a cheery orange glow. We''d set up gigantic barrels of Dragonator and Burning Brew every dozen or so meters on raised tforms. They were more for decoration than drinking, but they''d do if we ran out.


    They also had a surprise inside.


    The ce came with guards, but we¡¯d hired more. A <i>lot</i> more. After the Redlip Riot, the adventuring guild was more than happy to rmend a bevy of muscr teams to keep the peace.


    We wrote drinking regtions, and set out clear signage that anyone breaking the rules would be given the toss.


    For entertainment, we managed to get Raspberrysyrup, a solid collection of [Bards], and even Sam! The redheaded old rapscallion wasing with Harmsson, and offered to provide some rip-roaring bagpiping to set the mood.


    And so the end of the fifth month was upon us.


    Suddenly.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡ª


    I passed through the crowd, head bopping to Berry¡¯stest hit, <i>All that Glitters is Gold</i>, set to the ssic Smash Mouth tune, and collected a few dirty sses. We¡¯d learned from previous mistakes, and were only letting in enough clientele to fill the space, leaving the rest to stew in line.


    AND NO BEER IN THE LINE!


    There wereints, but nobody wanted a repeat riot. Even the city Guard had turned out in force, with an increased presence on the periphery of the event. Any time the line got out of hand, they were often first on the scene, breaking up fights and removing ne''er-do -wells.


    My tax dors at work.


    As a joint endeavour we had our small team working with Riverside brewery¡¯s massive coterie of journeymen and apprentices. I couldn¡¯t imagine trying to run an event this big with just our team.


    Master-no-more Schist approached and gave me a happy smile. He had a tray in one hand stacked tall with metal tankards.


    ¡°Things are going great, Pete! Your giant is great at breaking up fights! The arm on that fellow! I could¡¯ve used him back in the day for tossing drunks in the river!¡±


    ¡°Go find yer own giant!¡± I cat-called back.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m not allowed to throw past the dock anymore. Few decades back someone didn¡¯t get dredged up by the fisherdwarves and ended up caught in the sluices downstream. He survived, but the city wasn¡¯t happy with me.¡±


    ¡°Hah! So you¡¯ve been a thorn in their side fer a while! d to know that I wasn¡¯t tha cause fer yer fall!¡±


    ¡°Not a fall Pete.¡± Schist took a deep breath, his face growing pink as he looked around the space with open pleasure. ¡°This is the most fun I¡¯ve had in centuries. Ya know, I had a dozen young dwarvese and show me their brewsst week? And six of ¡®em got Blessed by Barck!¡±


    ¡°Six!? I only ¡®ad four!¡±


    ¡°Har! I guess we know who''s still the most popr brewer in Kinshasa, then!¡±


    I grumbled, but conceded the point. It didn¡¯t really matter; the Thirsty Goat was now the favourite to win ording to the betting pools, and I¡¯d have to take my victory there instead.


    ¡°Actually, I came ¡®cause some of theds were asking for you.¡± Schist nodded to a distant corner of the garden where some pong tables had been set up. ¡°They¡¯re wanting you to set up something called Axescggin?¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ no, we decided not to run that tonight fer reasons. I can give ¡®em somethin¡¯ else ta do though!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave it in your capable hands!


    I wove my way through the crowd to the tables, and my smile grew wider as I saw the yers. Some of them were familiar to me, namely Rumbob and Drum, while the rest were a solid mix of dwarves and gnomes. The dwarves still outnumbered the gnomes, but it was a noticeable shift in demographics. Bando was present as well, facing off against Rumbob and Drum. His partner was a sultry looking dwarfess. Oho!


    ¡°¡®Rum Tum Rumbob!¡± I called as I approached. ¡°Drum! d ta see you!¡±


    ¡°Pete! Ya blighter!¡± Drum called. ¡°I can¡¯t believe ya made Harmsson wait in tha line!¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°He wants to uplift thamon dwarf, he can wait with thamon dwarf. I let you an¡¯ Sam in early, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Har! Aye! And wasn¡¯t Lord Newcastle miffed about that! He near exploded when Harmsson meekly got into line! Made this whole nonsense worth it!¡±


    I sniffed. ¡°It¡¯s not nonsense. It¡¯s a party!¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± Drum scoffed and turned back to the pong table. His silver arm blurred, and the pong ball sank directly into one of the cups on the opposite end of the table. Bando and his partner groaned.


    ¡°Pete! Ya gotta help us here!¡± Bando pleaded. ¡°Drum¡¯s too good at this! Do you have anythin¡¯ else we could y?¡± His partner nodded eagerly.


    I pulled a gold coin out of my pocket and flipped it in the air. It sparkled as it fell. I caught it in a practiced motion and covered it up on the back of my other hand. ¡°Heads or tails?¡± I craned my neck at Drum. ¡°Heads I win, tails you lose.¡±


    Drum rolled his eyes as Rumbobughed his big bellyugh. ¡°Ya think I¡¯m gonna fall for that tired old goat?¡±


    ¡°Worth a try. You seem to like Pong, so I¡¯ll teach you a simr game called ¡®Coins¡¯¡±


    Drum looked at the gold coin in my hand. ¡°Coins¡­ does it involve tossin¡¯ the coin in a cup?¡±


    ¡°Kind of. Everybody sit around the table. Drum, Rumbob, you two there, Bando and, ah ¨C ¡° I gestured at two spots on the table beside each other. Doing my part to help the younger generation find love! Ah, Pete, you¡¯re such a sweetheart!


    ¡°Birch.¡± The dwarfess said in a strong alto, as she put her hand out for a fist bump. She had a dark green heart shaped beard and was wearing a flowing dress of amber with bright blue highlights. It looked a lot like Aqua¡¯s usual ensemble, though with a breastte that showed off her assets and bracers instead of pauldrons.


    She pulled in the chair next to Bando, and gave him a sparkling smile. The kid fairly keeled over.


    We older gentlemen at the table shared a knowing nce and hid grins.


    I pulled out my own chair to sit and was interrupted by an angry bleat. Penelope was underneath the table, probably trying to catch any falling mugs of beer.


    *Baaahhh!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°How dare you invade my space, varlet!¡±


    ¡°Sorry Penelope. Okay everyone, the game is simple.¡± I dered, pouring a full whistlemug and sitting down between Drum and Birch. ¡°The mug full of beer goes in the middle. Then we each take a coin and try ta get it in the beer.¡±


    Drum ndly stared at me as he pulled a gold coin from his pocket and tossed it in the beer without even looking at it. ¡°That all?¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°No, no. You have to bounce it off tha table first. You cannae just toss it in. And, when ya seed, you point one person out. They have to drink tha beer, and catch the coin with their teeth when they do.¡±


    Bando had a thoughtful expression. ¡°But if¡¯n they¡¯re too drunk and drink the coin?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Then they shit gold tomorrow. And they¡¯re out. You¡¯re also out if you fall unconscious.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± Drum murmured, as he bounced another coin off the table and failed to sink it. ¡°Hmmm¡­. How do ya even do it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an old hand.¡± I gloated, expertly thunking a coin off the table and into the ss. Drum watched my wrist as I did it a few times in a row, then tried it himself. He didn¡¯t quite sink the coin, but he was close!


    Rumbob, Birch, and Bando quickly followed suit. Rumbob immediately figured it out, followed by Birch, and finally Bando.


    ¡°I say we spice things up!¡± Drum called. ¡°Winner gets to keep all the coins!¡±


    ¡°*Ho Ho Ho!* you think you¡¯re good enough for that?¡± Rumbobughed with a tinge of menace.


    ¡°Aye, and I¡¯ll put my money where my mouth is.¡± Drum thundered, plunking a strange blue colored coin on the table. I leaned in to look closer; it looked just like a gold coin¡­ but was blue? Bando looked just as confused as I did.


    Rumbob however, recognized it immediately. ¡°A mithril crown! Where did ya get that!¡±


    ¡°Secret!¡± Drum grinned. ¡°Now, what¡¯s yer ante?¡±


    Rumbob looked thoughtful, but eventually pulled a perfectly round hunk of ck metal from his purse. It wasn¡¯t a coin, but had some rune inscriptions that indicated a magical nature. ¡°It¡¯s an adamantine fire starter for my pipe. But I¡¯ll want a bit of practice.¡± He then went straight to smashing the coin on the table.


    I thought for a while then shrugged and pulled out a gold coin. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything fancy. But I¡¯ll add a sack of gold if I lose.¡±


    We turned to look at Bando, who turned red. ¡°Me maw says I¡¯m not allowed ta gamble. And I don¡¯t got much ta bet anyways.¡±


    I took pity on the kid. ¡°I¡¯ll cover him. Same bet as me. Think of it as a bonus, Bando.¡±


    We all turned to look at Birch. She reached tantalizingly beneath her breastte and pulled out a disc of metal. Seriously, why dodies do that?? Caroline used to do it all the time, and Sammy eventually copied her! You didn¡¯t see guys wandering around with money stuffed in their jockstraps!


    She thunked the disc on the table, and it glittered as it spun, wobbled, and fell. It was made of a shimmering golden metal, with a white gem set in the center that glittered with an inner fire.


    Four dwarven eyes snapped from where they¡¯d just been to the center of the table.


    ¡°Will that suffice?¡± Birch smiled wolfishly.


    ¡°Good luck¡­¡± Drum muttered to Bando.


    Bando just gulped.

 Book 3: Chapter 66: Coins

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 66: Coins</h4>


    Rumbob was the first to fall.


    Mostly because I¡¯d casually mentioned to everyone that he was the champion drinker of Minnova.


    Rumbob had given me a dirty look, and kept passing drinks my way, but I was better at the game than him, and it was 4v1. Even with all his drinking Abilities and high Vitality, he wasn¡¯t able to keep up. With a groan he toppled like a tree. The crowd roared their approval as Kirk appeared like a ghost and dragged the rotund dwarf away.


    When the size of the bet had spread through the crowd, the majority of the other pong yers hade to circle our table. They shouted encouragement and jeers, and imprecations about skipping out on work. Thatst had been from Aqua, and I¡¯d ignored it.


    The drink of choice was, of course, our doppelbock.


    Though with a twist. I wanted something special for this party, so we were using a barrel of my secret reserve: an Eisbock.


    Eisbocks were the ultimate in high ABV beers, at an estimated 30% alcohol. They were made by cooling a bock until the water in it froze out in a chunk at the top. The alcohol, with its lower freezing point, remained. Remove the ice, and vo! Ice - bock! I¡¯d eschewed the soporific hops and smoke for this batch, no need to knock everyone out in the first round!


    Drum was surprisingly capable, and had managed three full mugs already. He was swaying and swearing like a sailor each time he missed the center cup, but he was still upright!


    Bando sank his coin and smugly passed me the mug as the crowd cheered.


    My eyes narrowed and I gave him a death glower as I drained the mug, catching his gold coin in my teeth. Heughed and muttered something to Birch, who guffawed. Little ingrate. Someone needed a reminder about whose gold he was betting!


    y passed to Birch, who calmly sank her golden disc, and passed the mug to Drum. He tipped the mug back, then began choking as the disk caught in his throat. He managed to horck it up, but not before his eyes rolled up and he passed out.


    I demurely fished the disc out of his mouth and passed it to Birch. Then I thumped my own coin violently down on the table. It glittered and spun high into the air. As it fell, I stared through it, catching Bando¡¯s gaze with my own re. He gulped as the coin sshed into the cup and I ticked my head at it. ¡°Go on Bando. Pick it up.¡±


    And then there were two.


    The crowd pushed in from all sides, and the noise was deafening, but all my attention was fully on the worthy opponent before me.


    Birch brushed ¡®dust¡¯ from her shoulder in a gesture that somehow came across as sultry. She adjusted her gown and smirked. ¡°Well, well. It seems that it¡¯s now just the two of us. Are you prepared?¡±


    I cracked my neck. ¡°I was born ready!¡±


    She flicked her disc down and it bounced,nded on the edge of the ss, then tottered and fell to the table. She frowned as the crowd jeered at her. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    I leaned backfortably in my own chair andzily bounced my own golden coin into the mug. I gestured at it. She nodded the point and picked up the mug. Then, to my surprise, she stood and chugged the entire drink in less than a second. Then she spat the coin down onto the table where it spun briefly before ttering onto its side. I stared at her in shock as she posed, then sat back down.


    The crowd stared briefly, then broke into raucous cheers.


    Then it was her turn. Her face turned serious as she lined up her shot, and took it. The coinnded in the ss without even hitting the edge, and the cheering turned intoughter.


    I took the mug, drained it, and spat the disc back onto the table. Birch and I locked eyes, then began tossing coins and draining mugs in earnest.


    Time passed, the crowd grewrger, though quieter, and somehow¡­. we were still tossing coins. I¡¯d thrown up at least once, and Birch could barely stand, but we were still sinking nearly half our shots, and neither of us had screwed up a chug yet.


    ¡°Yer - yer a worthly opponent.¡± I muttered drunkenly, as I lined up my shot. It bounced and flew somewhere into the garden. There were distant screams of ¡°IT¡¯S RAININ¡¯ GOLD!¡± ¡°BEST PARTY EVER!¡± and someone from the crowd mutely passed me another coin.


    ¡°The worth *hic* orthy-est.¡± Birch hupped, flicking her disc down. Itnded on the table, though nowhere near the mug.


    ¡°So whas¡¯ tha disc?¡± I asked, endeavoring to line up my next shot. With a grunt I smacked the coin down and it bounced into the cup with a tter.


    ¡°¡¯S nothin¡¯ <i>too</i> special.¡± Birch said offhandedly, as she drained the mug. ¡°I¡¯ve got millions like it. That one¡¯s sentimental though.¡± She swayed as she finished the mug, and nearly dropped it as she ced it down.


    ¡°Richdy, eh?¡± I rose to my feet with augh. ¡°Good thing! You missed the coin! You lose!¡±


    Birch winked at me and stuck her curled tongue out. The coin was stuck in a pink fold, and she waggled her eyebrows as she tongued it out. ¡°Nope!¡±


    The crowd and I both groaned as she took her turn and missed the mug. I managed to get her to drink two more beers before she got me again.


    If youe across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Are you from Kinshasa?¡± I asked, trying to keep my mind sharp. I almost went the way of Drum, choking on the damn disc, but managed to cough it up onto the table. I absentmindedly used [Spot Clean] on the mess. I missed my shot and gestured for her turn.


    ¡°No.¡± She said. Her voice was inviting though, and her eyes twinkled. She had¡­ very pretty eyes, now that I was looking at them. They looked like windows into the cosmos, deep and dark. I could fall into those eyes¡­ ¡°I¡¯m from elsewhere. What about you? Minnova, right?¡±


    She missed her shot, and I had a few seconds to think about an answer as the crowd found her disc and passed it over. ¡°I¡¯m from farther out originally, but I consider Minnova my home away from home.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nice. Not all who wander find a home.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the truth.¡± I grunted, as I sank another shot. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯re yer ns?¡± Birch asked. ¡°After tha - tha contest. Will ya stay?¡±


    I blearily considered her for a minute before answering. At the crowds insistence, I took a shot as well. It didn¡¯t even make it to the lip of the mug. ¡°I dunno. I have things I want to do.¡±


    ¡°Sounds fun.¡± Birch licked her lips.


    After a few more throws, Birch begged leave to use the washroom, and I acquiesced. The point wasn¡¯t to lose from a burst dder, after all.


    A rough feminine voice interrupted from behind me as Birch sashayed away. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend?¡±


    ¡°Birch.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s pretty.¡±


    I stared in the direction that the green bearded dwarfess had disappeared. ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    A sudden silence stretched, and I felt ice creeping up my back. I turned around, barely keeping from toppling over. Behind me was Tourmaline, dressed in simple but clean ochre te, and a dwarf I recognized as her grandfather.


    The Duke.


    SHIT!


    ¡°Nice party, Pete.¡± Tourmaline continued archly.


    ¡°Hallo Brewer Samson!¡± The duke gave me a fist bump like some, regr dwarf. He was nked by two nervous looking cloaked dwarves with long white beards. A trio of inclothes security kept any drunken revelers from bumping into them.


    I blinked. Why was the Duke here??


    Tourmaline and her Grandfatherpleted the basic social niceties, then moved away in the direction where Harmsson was sitting with his entourage.


    My drunken brain was screaming trying to guess why the Duke was at my party. He wasn¡¯t <i>unwee</i> per se, but the general popce weren¡¯t exactly <i>happy</i> with the nobility right now. Heck, some of the dwarves here were downright hostile. We had enough security that I wasn¡¯t worried, but what if the <i>Duke</i> tried something! Like having his own personal guards attack Harmsson or something equally horrifying!


    Maybe he just liked beer?


    Unfortunately, at this point I was a bit too drunk to figure it out. Besides, Birch hade back, and our y immediately resumed.


    We continued making idle chit chat, all of it pointless information. We were both too sloshed to focus on anything more serious.


    Then, as Birch was forced to drink another mug of Eisbock, Penelope bumped her chair legs from beneath the table. Birch¡¯s elbow slipped, and the remaining beer, along with my coin, sloshed out and onto the table.


    There was stunned silence in the audience, followed by a very udlylike curse from Birch.


    I¡¯d won!


    I¡¯d won! Haha! Urgh! Gugh!


    I held my hand over my mouth as I stood to give her a fist bump. She huped as she reached across the table to return it. ¡°That was imp ¨C impr - cool.¡± I slurred, pointing at Rumbob¡¯s still unconscious form. ¡°Ya did bett¡¯r than <i>him</i>. Are you a champ drinker here fer tha contest too?¡±


    ¡°You could say that¡­¡± Birch¡¯s voice was slurred as well, but her smile was sharper than a cat¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ve certainly never lost a <i>drinkin¡¯ </i>contest.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s only because you¡¯ve never faced me.¡± I retorted. ¡°And my <i>butter</i>.¡±


    She gave me a nk look, thenughed. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true! We¡¯ll need to do that next time!¡± She stood steadily to her feet and gestured at the items on the table. ¡°Your winnings.¡±


    She was growing sober before my eyes and I goggled at her. She straightened her clothes and brushed herself off, then spun on her heels and sauntered away.


    As the grumble charged in to p me on the back and congratte me, she vanished into the mass of dwarves.


    ¡°Hey, wait!¡±


    Her voice came back strangely crisp, as though it was being transmitted directly into my mind. It cracked like mountains and had the weight of eons behind it.


    *WATCH YOUR MINIMAP CAREFULLY TONIGHT. MY LUCK BE WITH YOU, PETER*


    I struggled to stand, drunk as I was, and promptly toppled sideways into aughing trio of Adventurers. On the table before me, a blue coin, a ck stick, two gold coins, and a hollow golden disc.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Milestone Gained!</strong><strong></strong>


    For defeating one of the eight Gods of Erd in a game you havepleted a Milestone. Please choose from one of the four following Abilities.


    I pushed the prompt aside and goggled at the center of the disc, where the glowing white gem had been a moment before, then shoved through my adoring well wishers. Birch was gone, nowhere to be seen


    As I looked wildly about the garden, a hand thumped onto my shoulder. It was heavy, and it felt unfriendly. But when I looked back, the only dwarf standing there was Lord Harmsson. He was wearing his fine business armor, and still carried his impressive cane. He was smiling, though for some reason the smile didn¡¯t reach his eyes.


    ¡°Hello Peter. What an incredible party!¡± He said, bowing at the neck. ¡°I was surprised to see the Duke here. He and I had an¡­ illuminating talk.¡±


    ¡°Oh, ¡®zats good. I''m zorry, but I¡¯mma bit busy - ¡±


    ¡°Yes. It helped mee to a decision.¡± He interrupted. His gaze was sharp as he looked me up and down.


    ¡°Uh huh?¡±


    ¡°Do you mind if I do my speech now? I¡¯d like to do it while the night is young.¡±


    ¡°Sure? Just wait till Berry¡¯s done¡­ she likes ta¡¯ hog tha¡¯ limelight.¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s smile thinned and his gaze sharpened. His tone started unsteady but grew firmer as he spoke. ¡°An interesting turn of phrase. ¡®The Limelight¡¯? I¡¯ve never heard of that before. I¡­ I hope you have a wonderful night, Mr. Roughtuff. Honestly, from all I¡¯ve heard you¡¯re a fine dwarf and you deserve some good times. Eat, drink, and be merry. I know I will remember this evening for the rest of my life.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Sure.¡± I gave him a polite bow. <i>Didn¡¯t</i> fall over. And toddled off to find my [Healer]. Richter! Help me! I haven¡¯t been this drunk in <i>years</i>!!!

 Book 3: Chapter 67: Bedrock

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 67: Bedrock</h4>


    It took me around five minutes or so to find Richter and coax some healing out of him.


    He had some¡­ terse words for me. When I was capable of thinking straight, my mind immediately went to the events prior.


    I pulled the strange golden disc out of my pocket and looked it over. It was gorgeous, of <i>divine</i> workmanship, and the glowing gem in the center was still missing.


    So I hadn¡¯t imagined it¡­


    I nced back at the prompt I¡¯d received.


    <strong>Milestone Gained!</strong><strong></strong>


    For defeating one of the eight Gods of Erd in a game, you havepleted a Milestone. Please choose from one of the four following Abiltiies.


    My head was still swimming even after Richter¡¯s ministrations, and I activated [sh of Insight] to help me focus. That Milestone¡­ And what Birch had said¡­ ¡®<i>My</i> luck be with you¡¯... Birch¡­ Barck¡­


    No.


    <i>NO.</i>


    <i>THAT </i>was the bet!? The bet I¡¯d been anticipating for three years!?! A random game of coins!?! Where was my devil at the crossroads with a golden violin!? Where was my death defying contest of skill and chance!? <i>AND WHY WAS HE A HONEYPOT!?</i>


    Oh Gods. Bando. What was I going to tell him? ¡®Sorry you got jilted by your date, she would¡¯ve been a Godlyy?¡¯


    AGH!!!!


    Wait, did that mean I¡¯d just won my soul back!? Had the glowing gem been my soul or just a representation of it?


    Had Drum CHOKED ON MY SOUL!?


    What if he¡¯d swallowed!?! Would I be fishing my soul out of his¡­


    I took a deep breath and counted to ten.


    Calm, Pete. Calm.


    Just add it to the pile for therapy with Aqua next week. It¡¯ll be a very entertaining session.


    I took the time as Berry finished her set to check over the Abilities I¡¯d been promised. They were, obviously, pretty nice.


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Lucky Break]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You are a lucky soul and everything always seems to go your way.</i><i></i>


    <i>This Ability will massively increase your luck for a single moment.</i>


    <i> This Ability can be used once per day. It will activate automatically in times of great need.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Lucky Break]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Godbotherer]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve spoken to Gods multiple times, and even ruined their ns. Why stop now?</i><i></i>


    <i>This Ability allows you to ask a single question of one of the Gods and have it answered.</i>


    <i> This Ability can be used once per month.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Godbotherer]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Gamblin¡¯ Dwarf]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You bet more in one pot than most people do in their entire lives. Increases your luck by a small amount when ying games of chance.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable and can be turned on or off.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Gamblin¡¯ Dwarf]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    <strong>Possible Milestone: [Iron Constitution]!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>You¡¯ve used your tolerance for alcohol to great effect, and probably will again in the future.</i><i></i>


    <i>This Ability increases your Vitality by 4 for the purpose of resisting the effects of poisons.</i>


    <i>This Ability is always avable and can be turned on or off.</i>


    <strong><i>ept [Iron Constitution]?</i></strong><i></i>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    Some very nice things there.


    Yesiree, very nice indeed.


    I could take Godbotherer and go bother Barck once a month. Seemed a waste, but what a <i>cool</i> party trick. The Gods could make themselves visible in space, right? That¡¯d totally happened when I¡¯d been floating around the sea of stars with Barck. Imagine telling your friends ¡°hey, look outside, I¡¯m gonna show you something neat¡± and then a freaking GOD was hanging in the sky.


    Neat, neat, neat.


    I immediately went and selected [Lucky Break] instead, because I kept almost <i>dying</i>. Anything that reduced that chance was fine by me.


    I checked my Minimap. There wasn¡¯t anything out of the ordinary on it right now, but just in case I ticked on the various filters I had avable. Nope. Nothing. And it made it impossible to read the map ¨C this ce was a <i>sea</i> of people. I turned the general races back off and made sure monsters were still on. Why had Barck said to keep an eye on it? That didn¡¯t bode well¡­


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the vition.


    As I finished looking at my map, my attention was drawn to a sudden lull in the noise.


    Lord Harmsson was now center stage, leaning on his cane. He was nked on either side by two dwarves that I didn¡¯t recognize, a grey bearded dwarf in ck and silver armor with a grey armband and a steely blonde-bearded dwarfess in simr attire.


    The silence spread through the garden until you could hear beer slosh.


    Harmsson raised a Whistlemug in one hand and his voice echoed as it bounced off tombstones and pong tables. ¡°Countrydwarves! Please join me in a toast! For Crack and Kinshasa!¡±


    ¡°FOR CRACK AND KINSHASA!¡±


    ¡°And for the King!¡±


    ¡°FOR THE KING!¡±


    There was a mighty <i>CHUG</i> as thousands of dwarves drank as one.


    Harmsson looked over the crowd, and then gestured in my general direction. ¡°I want to thank our hosts, The Thirsty Goat and Riverside Brewery. This has been an incredible event! Our fine city, and all the new [Brewers] sprouting up in Crack have much to thank them for!¡±


    I felt a warm tingle in my heart and the crowd cheered again. Some of the surrounding dwarves smacked me on the back. I knew it was a bit of confirmation bias ¨C anyone who hated us probably wasn¡¯t here ¨C but it still felt good to know that we¡¯d touched so many lives.


    ¡°I am Lord Thad Harmsson,¡± he continued. ¡°Even if you don¡¯t know who I am, I know you! I¡¯ve worked tirelessly all my life for the good of this city! I was the one who instituted the immigration retraining reforms! I was the noble responsible for the traffic improvementsst year! I was the one who brought water to Yellowwall and organized repairs after the Shaleshark attack! I love this city, and I want to see it seed as the shining jewel of western Crack! ¡±


    There were grateful mutters around the room, and calls of ¡°CHEERS!¡±, and ¡°YER THA BEST!¡±, and ¡°GIT ON WITH IT!¡± rang out.


    Harmsson¡¯s cheerful face turned thundery. ¡°And all that time I watched while City Hall grew fat on your taxes! While the High Lords in Whitewall squandered the salt of our brows and our dungeon! The Council of Greybeards and the High Nobility are a gue upon this city, and this country! They allow monsters to run rampant, brigands to stalk the hills, and honest dwarves to die starving and beerless in the gutter!¡±


    The muttering turned angry and I felt sweat bead on my brow. That was not the script! This was supposed to be a speech celebrating the Octamillenial and the various contests; for Harmsson to push his Grand Charter and improvements for gnomes! A plea for peaceful reforms! He¡¯d sent me the speech to review yesterday!


    I knew slimy politicians couldn''t be trusted!


    I glowered as I scanned the room for Annie. We''d been prepared for trouble, so let''s make it <i>double</i>.


    Harmsson¡¯s fingernced out, this time singling out Duke Barnes and his group. His eyes were burning embers. Duke Barnes stood tall, his chin high as he red right back.


    ¡°And wouldn¡¯t you know it? Some of those same High Nobles are here tonight! Duke Barnes and two of the Council! They came to speak to me, and so I hoped for a second chance at peace! But instead, they tried to weaken my resolve! To betray my brothers and sisters of Kinshasa for my own gain!¡±


    Tourmaline began to shout, ¡°LIE-¡±, but the Duke covered her mouth with a sh of movement. His face was stone. The two cloaked dwarves beside him tried to break away, but the crowd pushed them back.


    The atmosphere in the garden began to thicken with a feeling I recognized in my gut. It was the tang of battle, of dwarven hearts beating as the Red Rage grew within them. I could feel it rising within myself in response and tamped it down.


    It was time to activate our contingency ns. I finally spotted Annie about a hundred meters away with the rest of the Goat crew. Her face was white and she¡¯d pulled out one of the emergency Commstones we¡¯d bought for contacting our hired Adventurers.


    I let out a relieved breath. It''d cost a pretty penny, but I wasn''t letting a repeat of the Redlip Riot happen on my watch.


    I nced at my Minimap and ticked through all my filters. Still nothing. I smirked as our hired adventuring parties began filtering into the room. They moved through the crowd with purpose¡­ in the wrong direction? They weren¡¯t moving towards Harmsson, but the <i>Duke</i>. Several teams spread out to contain the crowd, all of them wearing grey armbands. My heart dropped as I saw Sam and Drum among them.


    My hand crept into my pocket as I felt the first pangs of nervousness. My fingers brushed the reassuring edges of contingency number two.


    I really didn''t want to activate contingency number two.


    ¡°It just so happens that five hundred of my hand picked dwarves are here <i>right now</i>.¡± Harmsson dered as random dwarves throughout the garden began tying grey armbands to their biceps. ¡°You will recognize them by their armbands! They are grey, like the simple stone that forms the foundation of Crack! Let the nobles have their fragile Gold and Silver; we are <i>bedrock</i>!¡±


    ¡°BEDROCK!¡± The grey-banded dwarves all shouted at once.


    ¡°But for all of you! The fine people of Kinshasa! Today will be a joyous day! I encourage you to continue drinking in celebration, while we <i>deal</i> with these traitors to the fine folk of Kinshasa! We are tired of waiting for the King to do the right thing and hear our pleas! We are tired of the Council of Greybeard¡¯s tyranny! Today we will usher in a <i>revolution</i>!¡±


    His grey armbadedpatriots raised their weaponry and shouted in unison. ¡°REVOLUTION!¡±


    I took a deep breath and pulled my hand out of my pocket. Okay, if that was the way he was ying it, maybe everything would stay peaceful for all us uninvolved folk.


    But¡­ Tourmaline. She was here, and she definitely didn''t count as uninvolved. And revolutions that started with armbands historically never turned out good. My eyes were drawn to Tourmaline and the Duke.


    The Duke was¡­ <iughing</i>.


    His chuckles reverberated in the sudden quiet. ¡°You were right, Harmsson! Tonight was about second chances!¡± His voice was so loud I had to cover my ears. ¡°A pity you chose yourself over your ideals! And it might¡¯ve worked, but for one thing! You were too willing to work with opportunists, and opportunists can be swayed with <i>opportunity</i>.¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s eyes narrowed as he nced over at one of his two lieutenants, the grey bearded dwarf. The lieutenant swore, and mouthed something that looked like ¡®<i>ckbeard¡¯.</i>


    Suddenly, light red as spells activated overhead. The sound of pounding footsteps came from all around us and the ground rumbled. As my eyes adjusted to the light I could see rank and file of steel armoured city troops charging to surround the garden. They poured in from every alley, every street, an entire <i>army</i>.


    The Duke looked up at Harmsson with a smug sneer. ¡°By order of the Council of Greybeards,. everyone here is under arrest! What say you, Harmsson?¡±


    Harmsson sneered back. ¡°I already said it, Barnes. REVOLUTION!¡±


    ¡°REVOLUTION!¡±


    I didn¡¯t know whether tough or cry. An entire revolution? At this time of the year, at this time of the day, in this part of Kinshasa, localized entirely within my beerfest?


    As the two sidesunched into battle, I activated the runestone in my pocket, and ducked under a nearby table as contingency number two went live.

 Book 3: Chapter 68: Contingency Number Two

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 68: Contingency Number Two</h4>


    When I¡¯de to Schist about contingency ideas in case of another riot, or if things went sideways with Harmsson, we¡¯d made a long list. Schist had considered it a fun thought exercise, and I¡¯d considered it good nning. We¡¯de up with a lot of ideas, but nailed down the one we¡¯d thought would be maximum chaos with minimum destruction.


    Which meant the entire garden exploded into chaos when I activated the magical trigger in my pocket and several hundred barrels of Dragonator detonated upwards, covering the entire beerfest with smoking, sticky beer.


    During our tests, the Dragonator had shown to make a highly effective smokescreen when exposed over a wide area in a short period of time. Whenbined with an alchemical additive in the charge, we were able to increase the ¡®stickiness¡¯ factor as well.


    I stuck a finger out from under the table and pressed it against a pool of beer. I had to exert a good bit of effort pulling it back out again and nodded with approval.


    All ording to n.


    I activated my Manasight, and green figures began dotting the smoke. It was hard to catch individual people, but it was good enough to dodge out of the way as sticky, angry dwarves iled about, unable to get free from the swamp of beer. I began counting down in my head; sixty seconds was enough to avoid the worst of the stick, and plotted my escape route in my mind.


    We all had designated exit points into the service tunnels below the beer garden. Mine was in a mausoleum about twenty paces to the east from here. That was, of course, assuming my memory was correct.


    I began edging through the mass of people, moving aside any time a slowly moving mass of green mana got too close.


    I let out a sigh of relief as I spotted the telltale brown mana of stone, and my outreaching hands felt the cool surface of the Mausoleum. I stumbled around it, keeping away from the figures currently glued to its surface, and felt for the lock.


    There were two locks.


    Why were there <i>two</i> locks!?


    I bent closer to examine them. One was a standard bolt lock, which I had a key for. The other was a moreplex affair, that I <i>didn¡¯t</i> have a key for. It also hadn¡¯t been there during set up!


    Upon careful examination, I spotted some writing on the lock in grease pen.


    ¡°Is this the bathroom?¡± - Birch


    I instantly regretted not selecting [Godbotherer] earlier this evening, so I could¡¯ve phoned Barck once a month for the next 600 years just to ask ¡®Why are you such a douche¡¯?


    I did my best to remain calm. Everyone was still stuck to various surfaces, and the worst that would happen was getting arrested. The problem was, I wasn¡¯t exactly popr with the Council of Greybeards right now, and I didn¡¯t want to try dealing with charges while in prison. I also didn¡¯t want to stick around to see if Harmsson had more up his sleeve.


    I ran through the map of the beer garden in my head. From here, my best chance was a tunnel just to the North East. It would dump me in the sewers beneath Darkwater, which is why we hadn¡¯t included it in our ns, but it was still my best bet for now.


    I ducked, dodged, and dived in the quickly dissipating smoke, until the ess tunnel stood before me. It was still locked, but I had the key, and I sighed with relief as it slid in and turned.


    My sigh hitched in my throat as a red dot appeared on my minimap a short distance behind me. I nced at my filters, and they were all still off. The only thing that would show as red on my map was a monster.


    Or¡­ a filter I¡¯d setst year and never turned off. A filter for a certain gnome named¡­ <i>Ambermine</i>.


    I felt a tide of crimson TeAR aT My MInD, but I tamped it down. The dot was slowly approaching my position; he probably thought he had the drop on me. After all, he was an assassin hiding within a massive screaming crowd, just one gnome among many.


    I felt a surge of adrenaline as I pulled a spherical ss bottle from my pocket. It contained the same alchemical mix that we¡¯d put in the charges, but amped up to eleven. It was a fairlymon item in use among adventurers called a Stickyfoot Potion. We were all carrying a few today.


    Ambermine probably had ways of dodging, but hopefully I¡¯d catch him by surprise. I kept ¡®fiddling with the lock¡¯ and counted down as the red dot approached my back. With a short swear at any watching Gods, I activated [Lucky Break], then turned and tossed the vial towards the red dot on my Minimap.


    I could just barely make a short figure in the smoke as the bottle arched out. Ambermine reactedte, tried to dodge the vial, then tripped as his shoes briefly stuck on the floor. The bottlended directly on his chest and burst, showering him with a ballooning mass of sticky goo.


    Ambermine¡¯s muffled swearing was music to my ears as I ducked inside the tunnel and locked the door behind me. I considered running over and braining him with my warhammer, but¡­


    This world hadn¡¯t made me hard enough tomit murder yet. Plus, I didn¡¯t really want to get <i>near</i> a hired killer. That seemed to be an unhealthy ce to be. Best to let the army deal with him.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    I jimmied the lock behind me and filled both it and the doorjamb with more Stickyfoot. I was now down to two bottles of the potion, but no gnomish Assassins wereing through that door today, that was for sure! A [Stoneshaper] might be able to do it, or a mage, but Ambermine was neither.


    I sank to the floor in relief, my heart beating in my chest. Today had¡­ <i>not </i>gone to n. And why in the Nether had Barck locked my escape hatch!?


    As soon as I caught my breath, I began hurrying down the tunnel. I pulled a small Solstone from my pocket and activated it. The tunnel was, of course, well made. A gravelly path sloped slowly downwards, and the walls were smoothly hewn from the stone. It was cramped, and I had to duck, but it wasn¡¯t dirty.


    I went over my options as I made my way down the tunnel. I had Harmsson¡¯s approved speech, and we¡¯d managed to ¡®halt¡¯ the revolution with our contingency. Hopefully that would count for something, and with Tourmaline¡¯s help maybe we¡¯d be able to avoid any jail time.


    That was our best case scenario.


    Worst case, I¡¯d be spending another century in a reform mine.


    I continued down the path for another ten minutes or so, and I smelled the sewer before I saw it. The air grew damp, and spongy moss began appearing on the walls as the temperature dropped. I was nearly home free!


    Which was precisely when I heard the sound ofbat from further up the tunnel.


    <i>Great</i>. I immediately doused my Solstone and the darkness closed in on me.


    I couldn¡¯t exactly go back, so I turned on all my Minimap filters and inched forward. Down here there weren¡¯t any other people, so the three dots showed up clearly.


    I gripped my warhammer tight in one hand, and my second-tost bottle of Stickyfoot in the other, and tiptoed thest few paces down the tunnel as quietly as I could. I peeked out into a murky cavern that stretched out of sight to my left and right. A river of something I didn¡¯t want to describe ran in a deep channel in its center. Luminescent moss, likely the same stuff that formed the ¡®stars¡¯ on the ceiling of Crack, filled the space with an eerie purple light.


    And by all the bits o¡¯ the Gods, it <i>stank</i>.


    Three dwarves were locked inbat. Two wore the standard issue equipment of the army, and the other I couldn¡¯t quite make out in the poor light. He was wearing a cloak and hood and favoured one side. des shed and Abilities were activated amidst the sh of steel as they spun in a dance of death.


    I only had a moment to think, so I activated [sh of Insight]. Barck had likely set me down this path for a reason. The only people that <i>should</i> be down here were the Thirsty Goat crew or the Garden staff.


    The two from the army looked like they were aiming to kill, while the third dwarf was on the defensive.


    So¡­ I did what any intelligent dwarf would do in such a situation. Friendly Fire!! I waited until the three were clustered together in a confusing melee, then tossed the Stickyfoot potion into the mix. All three went down in an angry swearing mess. The more they tried to extricate themselves, the more they got stuck together.


    I waited until the angry yelling dropped to angry panting, then stepped out into the light, my warhammer held high.


    The two guards began shouting at once.


    ¡°By the order of the king! Lay down your arms!¡±


    ¡°We are on assignment from the High Council of Greybeards! Dying us is a crime!¡±


    ¡°Let us free and we¡¯ll be lenient!¡±


    I considered the pair and chose my words carefully. ¡°How do I know you¡¯re with the army? Anybody could im that.¡±


    ¡°My name is Captain Urist Mcextra! You can find my name on my pauldrons!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help myself. ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Release us and help us capture that criminal and you¡¯ll be rewarded!¡±


    ¡°Aye, aye. Just gimme a sec. I need to corroborate your story.¡±


    The so-called ¡®captain¡¯ grumbled, but stopped thrashing. As I got closer, my face fell into the light, and the third figure began struggling harder. I reached over and pulled away the cloak, to reveal¡­


    Lord Freaking Harmsson. The massive asshole himself. He looked nothing at all like the well-manicured and put together Lordling I¡¯d seen up on the stage. He was sweating and banged up, his clothes covered in sticky ck beer, and his side was wet with blood.


    ¡°Peter!¡± He gasped. ¡°I¡¯m so d to see you! Help me!¡±


    I stepped away as though stung. ¡°Yeah, maybe I should let these two finish ya off.¡±


    ¡°No! You can¡¯t!¡± He said, hoarsely. ¡°They¡¯re the Council¡¯s Secret Police! They¡¯ll kill you too, just to remove any witnesses!¡±


    The pair of guards went <i>very </i>still and I eyed them a bit more warily. I spun my warhammer idly as I spoke. ¡°I could off all three of you. I <i>especially</i> have a bone to pick with <i>you</i> Harmsson.¡±


    ¡°Peter. You¡¯re not a killer.¡± Harmsson¡¯s face twisted into a sick smile.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s a cliche viin line if I¡¯ve ever heard one.¡± I mused. ¡°Did you set Ambermine on me?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± Harmsson asked, nkly.


    I sighed. ¡°Cut the crap. I know he¡¯s working for you. What I don¡¯t understand is why you waited so long to stab me in the back. If you were going to send an [Assassin], why not do it while I¡¯m sleeping at night.¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s vision twitched up and to the left. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know what you¡¯re ¨C ¡°


    ¡°Do you n to release us?¡± Mr. Mcextra interrupted.


    I nced his way in surprise. ¡°Uh¡­ maybe. Depends on how I¡¯m feeling?¡±


    ¡°Very well, then. [Iron Command]! <i>RELEASE US</i>!¡±


    I felt my mind <i>twist</i>, and <i>wrench</i> at his words.


    *Ding!*


    <strong><i>Milestone Used</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>[Unbending] has prevented [Iron Command].</i>


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have done that. I¡¯m allergic to mind affecting Abilities.¡± I said angrily, then sshed my final Stickyfoot potion over the two. By the time I was finished they were quite thoroughly coated and glued to the ground. I did have the good grace to make sure they could still breathe through their noses. Their breaths came out in angry snorts, as they heaved with rage.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve just killed them.¡± Harmsson muttered.


    I shrugged and leaned on my warhammer. ¡°The night¡¯s still young. And not all of us are sofortable with murder. Now there¡¯s nobody to disturb us, so, let¡¯s talk, <i>Harmsson.¡±</i>

 Book 3: Chapter 69: In deep shit

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with why¡¯re you all here, Harmsson?¡± I pointed at the two sticky guards. They¡¯d finally stopped wiggling, but were still breathing.


    Harmsson chuckled. ¡°The same thing you are, obviously. Escaping the mess you made.¡±


    ¡°I made!¡± I snapped. ¡°That was <i>entirely</i> your fault.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t set a <i>trap</i> in a public venue!¡±


    ¡°That was <i>insurance</i>, that <i>you </i>forced me to activate. Don¡¯t try to weasel your way out of this one. I can¡¯t <i>believe</i> you tried to jump-start a revolution during my beerfest. What¡¯s <i>wrong</i> with you??¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s eyes shed dangerously. ¡°I was thinking about how to best get what we both want for this country!¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°Goatshite! What, fer you to rule it? Fat chance of that now!¡±


    ¡°No! For a more egalitarian society! For more rights for guild members and rights for gnomes!¡± Harmssons voice was pleading.


    ¡°Oh, puhleez, you donnae care about any of that!¡±


    Harmsson sagged. ¡°I did. I do, I really do. But politics is all aboutpromise and baby steps. And I ¨C I don¡¯t have time for baby steps. The king wasn¡¯t moving, and the Council were outright stonewalling me. I heard two of the Council would be at your beerfest, and with the Duke there too¡­ I saw my chance, and took it!¡±


    I hesitated at that. The tone of his voice was genuine, and he <i>was </i>an old dwarf¡­


    No, no, that was just the high Charisma talking! This was a hard-bitten honey-tongued dyed-in-the-wool politico lying before me, and I wouldn¡¯t give him another inch.


    And, it didn¡¯t really matter what his <i>goals</i> were. I was quite certain that he¡¯d set Ambermine on me. I¡¯d given him his one chance. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, won¡¯t be fooled again and whatnot.


    I waved his excuses away like they were the bad smell down here. ¡°Forget about all that, I don¡¯t care about yer motivations, Harmsson. Why¡¯re you <i>here</i>.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°I really was just escaping. This was the only key my contacts could get me, since it¡¯s a city ess point. Lady Vi and Lord Newcastle stayed behind to keep the army upied. They haverge ns, so they¡¯ll be safe.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ I¡¯m thest of the Harmsson line.¡± He said, meekly. ¡°And if I die, the hope of change goes with it.¡±


    There was a heavy silence. I broke it by pointing to the two trussed up guards.


    ¡°What about those two?¡±


    Harmsson frowned. ¡°They were waiting here for me. I suspect whoever gave me the key <i>also</i> tipped them off. They really are part of the secret police. You should kill them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not killing <i>anybody</i>.¡±


    ¡°You should consider it. They were willing to use a mind controlling Ability on you. They¡¯d only go that far if they nned to kill you. Or silence you some other way.¡±


    I choked. ¡°<i>What</i>??¡±


    Harmsson nodded as best he could. ¡°They work directly for the Council of Greybeards, and have a lot of extra-judicial powers. But Abilities like that are still illegal, so they wouldn¡¯t use it unless they were sure you¡¯d neverin.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I believe that.¡± I poked Harmsson. ¡°You''re prettyfortable with this whole killing thing, aren''t you? Speaking of which, why try and kill me, huh? Why send Ambermine?¡±


    Harmsson fell silent, and looked away, not even trying to deny it anymore.


    I stared at the miserable little [Politician] while I considered what to do. If the army knew Harmsson would escape this way, they¡¯d be knocking at the door up above sooner rather thanter. That meant I had to leave <i>right now</i>.


    I didn¡¯t know whether tough or cry.


    ¡°You know what? I don¡¯t care about your reasons, or justifications, or <i>you</i>. You aren¡¯t worth my time, Harmsson. I¡¯ll leave you here for the army. Good luck with whatever.¡± I gave him an ironic salute and headed into the darkness of the cavern.


    After I¡¯d gone about ten steps, Harmsson called out, ¡°That¡¯s the wrong way!¡±


    I came to a shuffling stop and heaved a massive sigh. Since this hadn¡¯t been in our escape ns, I didn¡¯t actually <i>know </i>the way out of the sewers. I stomped back to the group and paused in front of Harmsson.


    This book is hosted on another tform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know the way.¡± He said, not a single trace of smugness in his voice.


    ¡°Maybe I do, maybe I don¡¯t¡­.¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°This was my nned escape route. I memorized the wholeyout. It¡¯s a maze down here, and sometimes there¡¯re monsters. There¡¯s safety in numbers. Let mee with you, and I¡¯ll get us both out. You don¡¯t need to trust me, but right now you <i>need</i> me¡±


    The snake was right. I <i>didn¡¯t</i> know my way out of here, and time was of the essence. I wanted to be locked up snugly in the Thirsty Goat with mywyer when the Guard came calling. Not wandering the tunnels with vengeful maybe-secret-police out for blood.


    ¡°By Tiara¡¯s Teats!!!¡± I growled, and bent to help Harmsson pull loose. ¡°You¡¯d better promise that you won¡¯t screw me over!¡±


    ¡°I promise.¡± He said with sincerity.


    ¡°Uh - <i>huh</i>.¡± There wasn¡¯t anything so handy as a solvent for the stuff, it would crumble apart in about half an hour, but some judicious force applied to clothes in the right ce and careful maneuvering of a knife let Harmsson strip down to his un-glued skivvies.


    He stood and brushed himself off, then stretched. The left side of his tunic was stained with blood. He noticed me staring and shrugged. ¡°One of them nicked me. It¡¯s nothing serious; I have an Ability handling it and I¡¯ve got a potion if necessary.¡±


    As he spoke, he casually walked over to where his sword had fallen near my feet.


    ¡°Nuh, uh!¡± I said, grabbing the weapon and pointing it at him. ¡°I¡¯ll take that. You just concentrate on getting us out of here.¡±


    Harmssons gave me a casual nod, then pointed down the tunnel. ¡°It¡¯s down that way, then left. Let¡¯s go. Are you sure you don¡¯t want to just¡­ toss those two into the muck down there? Let the sewer handle the shit?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°No. I handled your little [Assassin], I can handle a pair of government employees. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    So saying, I nicked each of the guards in an easy to reach ce and collected some of their blood. The Ambermine trick had worked quite well, so I¡¯d need to make some more vampire tea when I had the chance.


    Harmsson watched me curiously then shrugged. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s hurry.¡±


    We headed off into the murky purple darkness, leaving the two behind. The system of sewerage tunnels was fairly uniform, with holes in the center of the roof every 100 meters or so for street cleaning and rain runoff. Rain could be an actual serious problem in Western Crack, as the canyon overhead allowed in impressive amounts of rainfall during the rainy season.


    When we reached the first fork in the path, I headed to the left, but Harmsson stopped me and pointed down the right path, holding a finger up to his lips.


    I stared at him in confusion for a moment, before realizing what he¡¯d done. I nodded and made sure to make some clear footprints down the left tunnel in some moss, then stealthily headed down the right tunnel.


    We walked through the tunnels in silence, Harmsson in front and me with a sword at his back. I had little interest in anything Harmsson had to say, and he was preupied with ensuring we were headed in the right direction. He¡¯d been correct, I absolutely would¡¯ve gotten lost down here, it was a totalbyrinth. And Gods, the smell. It was so bad you never got used to it.


    It was after nearly an hour of wandering that I had to ask the burning question. Harmsson had paused at another T-junction and was squinting down both tunnels looking perplexed. ¡°Harmsson¡­ are we lost?¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ possibly.¡±


    ¡°YOU-!!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m doing my best! I¡¯m running off pure memory here!¡± Harmsson snapped. ¡°I think we need to go back to thatst U-bend and go up the path to the left instead.¡±


    ¡°Fine¡­¡± I sighed, turning around.


    It was about a ten minute trek back, but as we approached, I stopped Harmsson with a finger to my lips. My [Map] filters were still on, and they¡¯d caught four dots back the way we¡¯de. Listening carefully, we could make out the sound of people talking.


    ¡°Shit.¡± I muttered, and pointed back. ¡°Go, go, go, go.¡±


    ¡°How did they get out so quickly??¡± Harmsson muttered as we ran as quietly as we could.


    ¡°I assume someone came and helped. Or it could be some of yours, or just city workers, but I¡¯m not taking any chances.¡±


    ¡°I think there¡¯s another exit up that way.¡± Harmsson pointed down another bend. ¡°It¡¯ll drop us out in Darkwater ravine, so there¡¯ll be some climbing, but it¡¯ll get us out.¡±


    ¡°Good enough. Go, go, go!¡± I hissed.


    So we ran. Unfortunately, we seemed to be well and truly lost now, as we ran into dead-end after dead-end. It was at one such dead-end where I stopped Harmsson with a hand against his chest.


    ¡°No, we cannae go back. They¡¯re already at thosest crossroads, we¡¯ll run right inta them.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± He asked, heaving for breath.


    I closed my eyes and nodded, staring internally at my [Map]. Four dots stood a ways back. The path was winding, so they were in view, but they¡¯d still catch up in about a minute or two.


    ¡°We need ta hide.¡± I said, pointing around the cavern. ¡°And prepare an ambush.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any hiding [Abilities].¡± Harmsson shook his head. ¡°You should¡¯ve killed them.¡±


    ¡°Whatever, we donnae know if it¡¯s even them. Just hide, and attack if I shout ¡®Fer Crack and Annie¡¯.¡±


    He choked back a nervousugh. ¡°What??¡±


    ¡°Just <i>do it</i>.¡± I gave him his sword, and he took it in a steady grasp. I kept a wary eye on him as I craned my neck looking for a ce to hide.


    The sewer in this section was a pile of logs and refuse. Some effort had been made to organize things, with the logs and various bits of dwarven city garbage arranged in a haphazard pile of sticks andrge stones. Possibly a collection tunnel, and someone with a cleaning Ability would be byter to dump it into an extra dimensional garbage.


    It was while I was wedging myself between two slimy logs that one of the dots on the map vanished. Followed closely by another. Then a third.


    ¡°Peter¡­¡± Harmsson¡¯s voice came from just to my left, a hint of terror in it.


    I looked over his way. He was pointing to a trio of boulders in the middle of the general pile. I looked more closely at therge mottled spheres.


    At the¡­ <i>very, big, eggs</i>.


    Thest dot had vanished now, and a muffled bellow reached us down the tunnel. I checked my filters again with mounting horror. Monsters were still on!! I should be able to see any!!!


    Then I ticked on the ¡®animals¡¯ filter, which was immediately popted with thousands of rats. As well as one <i>veryrge</i> dot approaching rapidly down the tunnel.


    ¡°PETER!!!¡± Harmsson shouted now, as thundering footfalls echoed down the dank tunnel.


    ¡°Wait for it!¡± I hissed, holding my mace at the ready and doing my best to hide.


    And then we saw it. An enormous yellow body covered in grime heaved into view, roughly the size of a draft horse. An orange beak with a wicked hook at the end snapped open and shut and a pair of beady ck eyes shimmered in the dark. It pped a pair of wings that nearly filled the entire cavern and let out a cry.


    ¡°QUACK!!!¡±


    ¡°Crikey.¡± Harmsson muttered, as the beast waddled fully into view. ¡°That¡¯s a <i>big duck</i>.¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 70: Duck, Duck, Dwarf

    I stared at Harmsson, the monstrous mard momentarily forgotten.


    ¡°Crikey!?¡± I growled, my vision turning red. ¡°It was <i>you</i>! <i>You¡¯re </i>the other chosen<i>!!! THAT¡¯S WHY YOU SICC¡¯D AMBERMINE ON ME!?</i>¡±


    The duck answered with an angry ¡°QUACK!!!¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s face paled, as a prompt appeared in my vision. It was one I¡¯d seen before.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>New Quest: All¡¯s Fair in Love and War 1/7</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>You¡¯ve discovered another Chosen, now sabotage them!</i><i></i>


    <i> Chosen Sabotaged: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Karmic Reversal + 1]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>Yes / No</i>


    I almost immediately hit ¡®Yes¡¯, just for the principle of the thing.


    But I held off, because I had other problems.


    One, big, <i>ducking </i>problem.


    The duck hissed, sticking its tongue out and stretching its wings. It had a <i>horrifyingly</i> long barbed tongue thatshed to-and-fro as it waddled menacingly in our direction. A thin line of razor sharp teeth edged its beak.


    I gulped, regretting my outburst, and then as any good Canadian, immediately took goose precautions. Ducks weren¡¯t geese, but all''s fair in love and waterfowl.


    ¡°Harmsson, you absolute arse, don¡¯t make any threatening moves,¡± I said, calmly.


    ¡°Keep your arms at your side, maintain eye contact, and stick to the wall. I¡¯m going to keep talking, as though to a small idiot child, because then you¡¯ll be able to understand, and it should confuse and calm it. Move away from the eggs while making it clear you aren¡¯t going for them. Do you understand me, you gabbling shit-gibbon? It should move to put itself in between us and the eggs before it attacks.¡±


    Harmsson did as I said, keeping his hands to his side. ¡°The insults are hardly necessary. You would¡¯ve done the same in my shoes.¡±


    ¡°Like hell, I¡¯ve been in yer shoes and they <i>stink</i>. Wash yer feet, you filthy animal.¡±


    Harmsson reddened, matching my petnt tone. ¡°Oh, are we doing this, you alcoholic Canucklehead? How many years in this world and you still haven¡¯t managed a half decent beer? You CoULdN¡¯T BReW YOuR WAy OuT oF A GarAGE!¡±


    ¡°Better than bin¡¯ a tinpot despot! Did ya learn all yer politics from Robespierre, or just the greatest hits? Aiming for yer own little beer hall putsch, Ya NAmBy PuSHOVER!?¡±


    The duck halted and gave a warning honk as our arguing grew more heated. It hissed again, the tunnel causing the sound to reverberate until it felt like being in the center of a leaking blimp.


    Our mouths snapped shut. Up close, it was even bigger than I¡¯d first assumed. It had to be <i>at least</i> the size of a moose. And it had <i>ws </i>on the end of its wings, like some kinda freaky feathered raptor!


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to let bygones be bygones if we make it out of this alive.¡± Harmsson said, as he visibly got a handle on his Red Rage. ¡°Gods, I was wondering why everyone was terrified of ducks. What kind of idiot keeps something like this as a <i>pet</i>?¡±


    ¡°Thanks for admitting to <i>that</i> particr crime.¡± I tutted, doing my best to tamp down my own inner fire. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering if that was you. Maybe I can stand as a witness at your inevitable trial.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shove off it. We¡¯re about to <i>die, you</i> moron.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I don¡¯t need ta be faster than the duck, I just need ta be faster¡¯n you <i>old man</i>.¡±


    ¡°If you think you have the Agility, <i>try it</i>.¡±


    The beast resumed its advance as we continued talking, its eyes whirling with an inner ducky madness. It stomped itsicallyrge orange feet in a threatening disy, and I couldn¡¯t hold back a snicker of nervous fear. This felt ridiculous; we were about to be eaten by the world¡¯srgest rubber duck.


    Harmsson and I continued slowly edging along opposite sides of the tunnel, giving the duck a free path to its eggs. It moved slowly, swinging its long neck from side to side as it kept both of us in view. Then it charged forward between us, settling itself on its nest.


    We breathed twin sighs of relief.


    Then the bloody thing reared its neck back, and in a moment of inspired action, I ducked as green slime spewed from its throat in a sizzling torrent. I dashed off the wall as a prompt appeared, which I epted in passing.


    *ding!*


    <strong>New Quest: Duck Danger</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>You¡¯ve discovered a duck nesting beneath the city of Kinshasa!</i><i></i>


    <i>Kill it! Don¡¯t die!</i><i></i>


    <i>Ducks in: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: Strength + 1</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    The stone where I¡¯d been standing smoked and bubbled as the liquid clung to it.


    ¡°IT HAS ACID BREATH!?¡± I gabbled in panic.


    In reply, the duck darted at Harmsson, shing the hooks on its wings at his midsection.


    Harmsson jumped back, activating a dodge Ability as his body moved in ways physics didn¡¯t normally allow. The wicked talons raked through the space he¡¯d just been, and the duck screeched with anger.


    ¡°HELP ME!!¡± Harmsson shrieked.


    ¡°Swear on Steve Irwin that you won¡¯t run off and stab me in the back?¡±


    ¡°What!? That doesn¡¯t ¨C ! Yes! Whatever! I swear!¡±


    ¡°Then if you¡¯ve got any cards, use them now!¡± So saying, I pulled out my wand and with desperate strokes stenciled the Sigil for a basic fireball spell. It was significantly harder than working with beer, but my hard work paid off as a basketball sized ball of fireunched at the duck and impacted on its chest, crisping its feathers. It bellowed in anger and turned back to face me.


    ¡°[Thad¡¯s Avatar of War]!¡± Harmsson shouted, and immediately swelled in size, growing to nearly the size of a giant. ¡°[Lesser Battle Cry]!¡±


    <strong>Condition Gained: [Lesser Bolstered]!</strong><i></i>


    <i>You have gained the [Lesser Bolstered] Condition!</i><i></i>


    <i>Your Vitality and Strength both increase by 2!</i>


    The duck paused in absolute consternation at its opponent''s new size. It was just enough of an opening for Harmsson to shout ¡°[Basic Charge]!¡± and sh forward, his now gigantic de aimed at the duck¡¯s neck.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the vition.


    It fluttered out of reach of the sword, then whipped its head around like a mace. Harmsson caught the blow on one arm with a grunt, then punched it back in the face. The duck shook its head with muttered quacking and shed its wing blindly, this time catching Harmsson on his arm. Blood fountained from the wound and he fell back with a howl of pain. His footshed out with a bright light, and the duck¡¯s elephantine body was raised into the air on the massive blow.


    As Harmsson retreated, the duck fell back to the ground with a squawk. I took the opportunity to build and fire off another fireball, which impacted the duck in the side of its head, blinding one side.


    The duck squawked with pain, then opened its mouth to spew more acid at Harmsson. So, I brought my warhammer down on itsrge webbed toes with a [Basic sh]. ¡°FER CRACK AND ANNIE!¡±


    Then I jumped to the side as the duck switched targets and bathed the area near its feet with green slime. It squawked with pain as its toes got an acid bath, and I let out a yelp as some sshed onto my ankle. A chomping beak chased after me, and a prehensile tongue reached out to snag my foot.


    Harmsson bellowed, ¡°[Thad¡¯s Interracial Charm]! Look at me!!!¡±


    The duck swung back to look at him with adoring eyes. I took the opportunity to ce a nearby sharp piece of wood against the duck¡¯s side.


    ¡°[Basic Pick]!¡± I shouted, and drove the stake into the beast with my hammer.


    It reared back, stumbling as blood began pumping from the wound.


    ¡°Why do you get all the cool Abilities?¡± I muttered, moving to nk it while it stumbled about, distracted. I began tracing another Sigil with my wand and swore as the spell failed; I still needed more practice!


    Harmsson¡¯s face was pale and sweaty as he wrapped a cloth around the wound on his arm. ¡°You didn¡¯t farm Quests? I¡¯ve Specialized over five times.¡±


    ¡°Just beer ones.¡± I gasped. ¡°And I¡¯m only taking brewing Specializations.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s your own damn fault.¡±


    The duck gave a long, mournful quack that dropped slowly down the octave. Then its feathers turned red as its eyes switched from ck to a burning white. In my horrified imagination, atin choir started up.


    ¡°IT HAS A SECOND PHASE!?¡± Harmsson cried as <i>literal fire</i> erupted from the duck¡¯s nostrils. The duck roared, sounding more like a dragon than a bloody duck, and blew a stream of fire onto Harmsson. Unlike the acid, the fire came out fast as a bullet, covering him in an instant. Harmsson cried out in pain as his beard caught fire. He careened into the slimy river and did what any educated man on fire would do. Stop, drop, and roll. I winced. The duck took advantage of his distraction to move in for the kill, jumping forward and burying a w into Harmsson¡¯s chest.


    Which gave <i>me</i> the opening I needed. I tossed my weapon and wand aside and jumped onto the duck¡¯s neck. I mped on with all four limbs and shouted, ¡°NOW HARMSSON!! [FLESH OF STONE]!!¡±


    The duck gave a bewildered quack as my body turned to a stone anchor. Its head fell to the ground with a *clonk*, presenting a long, yellow, juicy target. With a gurgling breath, Harmsson blindlyshed out once, then twice, his de true.


    The duck let out a soundless scream and waddled backwards. It pulled a wing back to strike onest time. I could see it headed for my neck as though in slow motion.


    And then it stopped as a glowing pure-white unigoat horn sank into the duck¡¯s breast.


    *BAAAHHH!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°For Crack and Annie!¡±


    The duck stared down at the goat in a dazed confusion I rted to. How was Penelope here? <i>Why</i> was Penelope here??


    Then, with a thundering crash, the duck copsed. Penelope and I barely managed to dodge out of the way as it sshed into the gutter.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest Complete: Duck Danger</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Congrattions, you murdered a mama duck! </i><i></i>


    <i>You monster!</i>


    <i>Gained 1 Strength! Your new strength is 18.8!</i>


    The fight was over. We¡¯d won.


    At a cost.


    Harmsson shrank down to normal size again and began grasping blindly at his coat pocket. ¡°Potion¡± he wheezed through burned lungs. I dug into his pockets, and came up with shards of bloody ss. His clothing ked away as I adjusted his shirt, and his skin was ¡­


    Gods. He should be dead. What was his <i>Vitality</i>!?


    He gave a chokingugh. ¡°It¡¯s broken isn¡¯t it. After all that worrying, and this is how it ends. Killed by duck in a sewer. <i>Poetic</i>. And I think there was a goat? Why was there a goat?¡±


    ¡°Shit, oh shit, oh shit. We need ta get you to a [Healer],¡± I whispered. The gouge on his arm was beginning to bleed through his makeshift bandage.


    ¡°Why bother?¡± He giggled. ¡°With me out of the way, you¡¯ll be home free!¡±


    ¡°Oh <ie off it!</i> I never even <i>wanted</i> ta win that goddam Game!¡± I had tears in my eyes as I realized the truth in that statement. I hadn¡¯t thought about the Game in ages. I¡­ had no real n of going home anymore.


    With all my reminiscing, and therapy, and letting go... I¡¯d given up on going back.


    Harmsson looked at me with unseeing eyes. ¡°You really mean that¡­ don¡¯t you. You weren¡¯t even trying. HA HA *COUGH¨C*!!!¡± He stopped mid-sentence as his body was wracked with coughs.


    Penelope waddled up and poked Harmsson with a hoof, then gave him an inquisitive *baaah*.


    ¡°Good girl.¡± He muttered, patting her nose with a trembling hand. ¡°I can *cough* see why the Thirsty Goat was so obsessed with you. A damn *wheeze* better sight than my own Goddess. Bloody bitch left me here to die.¡±


    ¡°Who was it?¡± I asked. "[Spot Clean]" I leaned him against the now ¡®clean¡¯ spot on the wall and sat next to him, staring at the corpse of the once-mighty bird.


    ¡°Lunara.¡± He grumbled. ¡°She said that being old was an advantage. That if I won I could wish for eternal youth, or to be a dragon.¡±


    ¡°Not to go home?¡±


    Harmsson turned an incredulous look my way, and gasped with pain. ¡°AGH! No! Why would I do that when I¡¯m a bloody <i>Lord</i>, and can *gasp* turn into a colossus?¡±


    His voice was weak now.


    ¡°What was yer name back on Earth?¡± I asked, keeping my toneforting. I tried to channel how my family had talked to me in the hospital back on Earth. This was¡­ really, <i>really, </i>hard. Even though I¡¯d been ready to kill him myself a few minutes ago, I still didn¡¯t wish <i>this</i> on him.


    ¡°Thadwick.¡±


    ¡°Ouch.¡±


    ¡°Always hated the bloody thing. Went by Thad all my life. And now this life, such as it was.¡±


    He fell silent, taking heaving breaths, each harder than thest. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die.¡± He whimpered. ¡°I did it once. I don¡¯t want to do it again. These Erders don¡¯t seem to care, we¡¯ll just reincarnate after all, but I wanted to live <i>this </i>life.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay here with ya.¡± I said. ¡°Until the end. As a fellow Earther.¡±


    Harmsson stared nkly at the grimy roof of the cavern. ¡°Can you do me a favour? Tell Vi to boot that wanker Louis ckbeard in the apricots? He was the one that got me this route, and betrayed our ns to the council. And tell Lord Newcastle to pry that pickaxe out of his arse. And tell Adina I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I felt my eyebrow being tugged upwards. ¡°¡®¡±Yer really askin¡¯ me for favours? After what you did today? I don''t even know half those people.¡±


    ¡°Please, Pete? I - I¡¯ll make it up to you somehow. Put a good word in for the Gods on my way out, or something.¡±


    I sighed and scratched the back of my head. ¡°I get it. I¡¯ll tell ¡®em, and I¡¯ll even boot ckbeard in the balls myself if I can.¡± I could be magnanimous and forgive a dying man, right? Heck, I¡¯d sack ckbeard just for the heck of it.


    Tears fell down Harmsson¡¯s ckened cheeks. ¡°I did put Ambermine on you. I¡¯m sorry. You were beating me at the Game, and I just ¨C *cough* I wish I could go back and do it all again. If I only had more <i>time</i>. There¡¯s so much good in this country, but I got so caught up on winning. <i>Damn </i>Lunara!¡± With that exmation, he went silent again, his eyes fluttering closed.


    A few more minutes passed in pained wheezing. Eventually, I just had to ask. ¡°Hey, you''ve been dyin¡¯ fer quite a while now¡­ yer not yin¡¯ me, right?¡±


    Harmsson peeked one eye open blearily. ¡°*Cough* Asshole. Have some respect.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m good, thanks.¡±


    ¡°HA! Ow! I ¨C I can¡¯t feel my legs anymore. I guess¡­ I guess it¡¯s Karma. I was always meant to die¡­¡± His head drooped and I had to keep him from slumping over.


    But what he¡¯d said niggled something in my mind and I activated [sh of Insight], then jumped to my feet. ¡°Karma!!!¡±


    ¡°Whuzzat?¡± Harmsson twitched and Penelope bleated angrily.


    I looked at Harmsson with wild eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not fated to die today! I need you to take the fall for the beerfest incident!¡±


    His voice dripped with what little irony remained in his body. ¡°That¡¯ll be a ¡­ hard ¡­ do as ¡­ charred corpse.¡±


    ¡°Not if I have anything to say about it! If I can save you, will you help deal with the fallout? And promise not to try to kill me anymore?¡±


    ¡°... bloody oath¡­.¡± Harmsson was barely audible, and his head drooped. It was now or never.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to assume that means yes.¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong><i>[Karmic Reversal]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Reverse the fate of [Thad Harmsson]?</i><i></i>


    <i>Fate will resume its course in one day.</i>


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    ¡ª


    They found us three hourster, as I led aining Penelope with Harmsson tied to her back. Harmsson was alive, but unconscious.


    Balin led the way, his [Party Finder] leading team Starshine straight to us. His golden armor was like a halo as he came sprinting down the tunnel; Balin of Goldenlight <i>indeed</i>.


    I fell into his arms and passed out.

 Book 3: Chapter 71: Of Gods and Ex-Men

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 71: Of Gods and Ex-Men</h4>


    <strong>From the Diary of Peter Roughtuff</strong>


    <strong>10th Day of the 6th Month, 8000, A More Serious Entry</strong>


    Writing this diary has been a great way to jot down my thoughts of home, old recipes, and to save something for any future children I may have.


    Yes, children.


    Because, I¡¯m not going home.


    I only realized it recently, but I¡¯m not ying this little game to win it anymore. I want to see my craft seed out of a love of the craft, and nothing more. I guess that¡¯s why I was chosen for the job. It just takes looking at Harmsson to see how everything can go off the rails when you¡¯ve only got eyes for the prize.


    Speaking of Harmsson, Richter and Starshine managed to get him healed up between abination of [Minor Blessing] and healing magic.


    I¡¯m not sure what to expect there, but I have some hope. He could¡¯ve left me to die in that sewer by just running off ¨C his stats were <i>way</i> higher than mine ¨C but he didn¡¯t. Is he a good person? I honestly don¡¯t think so, he¡¯s dangerous, but I don¡¯t think he¡¯s <i>evil</i>.


    Not that he''s doing much at this moment, given his imprisonment. He actually took all the me for the One Minute Revolution at the Garden of Graves. He backed my innocence, with evidence from Mcshave and his approved speech, and evenuded me and Schist for our proper riot nning. He also sent me an incrediblewyer, Vanitart, and she thinks we may be able to get off with some fines and warnings.


    The semi-finals of the various contests came to an end, of course. Bran won his round handily with his unfortunately named balls, and while it was close, we won too! Turns out that most dwarves are <i>not</i> spice aficionados. So even though it¡¯d seemed a done deal to everyone at the start, we pulled through in the end!


    Schist has been <i>more</i> than gracious, and I think we¡¯ll be life long drinking and brewing buddies. He¡¯s also gotten incredibly invested in Harmsson¡¯s crusade, and is doing the circuit pushing the somehow-not-dead Great Charter now that he¡¯s not busy with the contest.


    That''s right. With Harmsson out of the picture Schist has taken control of his entire operation. Don''t ask me how.


    Speaking of which, with all the kerfuffle, the next rounds haven¡¯t been announced yet, but we do know who we¡¯ll be facing off against. It''s apany called ¡°Brazen Bull Brewing¡± from Goma, a city in Southern Crack. I tried all of their drinks so far, and they¡¯ve been pretty good! Their ¡®most valuable brew¡¯ was simple enough ¨C an ale made with local ingredients, much like ours, but with the addition of a magically chilled bottle that always kept it cool. They called it a ¡®Winter Ale¡¯, the vour of which was pretty standard Sacred Brew. Their next drink, the ¡®hardest hitting¡¯ had been something different, with a vour profile that closely resembled our own Goldstone Brew. I was pretty sure they were straight up cribbing our work, which gave me a lot of confidence in winning the final round. To meet the requirements, they¡¯d gone all in on tech again, with an extrarge drinking bottle that doubled as a mace. It had some minor runes etched into it that caused it to act more like a big poofy mallet when swung as a weapon in a fight.


    It was <i>really</i> popr amongst the bar crawl crowd.


    In other news, Balin is back! Team Starshine sessfully defeated the boss monster ¨C a something-carp ¨C and came back with shiny new Abilities. Balin¡¯s is a fancy interposition Ability that lets him instantly swap ces with an ally. It isn¡¯t quite a teleport, but it¡¯s <i>fast</i>; dizzying to watch and even more jarring to experience.


    And onest piece of good news! ording to Tourmaline, a certain dastardly gnome got picked up by the army at beerfest! A warrant was still out for Ambermine¡¯s arrest and with Copperpot''swyers leaning on thew, he was quickly shuffled into a maximum security prison for murderous adventurers.


    Couldn¡¯t have happened to a more terrible piece of shit.


    In all of this, I have to wonder about ¡®Birch¡¯s motivation. Why did he/she put the lock on that door?


    ¡ª


    <i>Somewhere Else</i>


    On the side of a cliff stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table covered by aplex game-board sat in the centre of the gazebo. The edges of the board stretched into the distance while still somehow filling a defined space. Seven ornate figurines sat upon the board ¨C a dragon, an elf, one human, two dwarves, a gnome, and a beastfolk.


    Seven Gods sat around the board, each radiating an aura of power and majesty.


    One of them, a Goddess in the guise of a ck skinned elfess bedecked in a raiment of stars and moonlight smashed her fist on the board in rage. ¡°WHY DID THAT GOAT HAVE A BLESSING!?! You all saw that, right!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you weren¡¯t more concerned about your chosen ending up in prison.¡± Aaron saidzily, examining the movement of the pieces still on the board.


    ¡°His work continues without him.¡± Tiara pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m quite thankful for it, it¡¯s been making things easier for my Chosen. And besides, maybe he¡¯ll get out eventually, like Aaron¡¯s Chosen.¡±


    Aaron, who wore the guise of a proud beastfolk of the northern ins grumbled. ¡°He¡¯s taking too long. I <i>sent</i> him an oracle! He knows what to do next!¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Midna, goddess of Spirit and Communication swirled a ss full of Dragonator and stared into the smoke that erupted from it, as ck as her mood. ¡°The elves won¡¯t help him. That¡¯s <i>why</i> Tiara chose who she did.¡±


    Aaron gripped his antlers with consternation while Tiara giggled.


    ¡°WHY DID THAT GOAT HAVE A BLESSING!?!¡± Lunara screamed again. She gripped the table and tried to flip it.


    ¡°ENOUGH LUNARA!¡± Solen roared, his draconic jaws snapping with anger. Light shed within the Gazebo, blinding all those present.


    ¡°Agh, turn down tha¡¯ light ya shiny lizard.¡± A dwarven voice drawled from where Barcky lounging in his chair. He had a simr mug of Dragonator and was alternating sipping from it and blowing smoke rings that coalesced intos before whisking into the sky.


    Solen whirled on the dwarf. ¡°Don¡¯t test my patience Barck. Your deal with Lunara earned you entrance back into the Game, but you¡¯re still on brittle ground.¡±


    Lunara¡¯s attention focused onto Barck. ¡°You! That was your Chosen''s goat, what did you do!¡±


    Barck shifted ufortably, turned his chair into a recliner, and slowly tipped it back. When he was done, he gave Lunara a wry look. ¡°Saved ¡®yer Chosen. Like we arranged.¡±


    Lunara stepped forward, rage crackling in her eyes, and a mace springing to her hand. ¡°AGH!!!¡±


    ¡°He recycled its Spirit.¡± Midna muttered, her voice barely audible above Lunara¡¯s warcry. Barck winced.


    Lunara turned to face the mopy Goddess. ¡°He did what?¡±


    ¡°Recycled its Spirit. Each time it died, he siphoned it into the next ¡®Penelope¡¯. It¡¯s barely even an animal Spirit anymore, it¡¯s closer to a mortal Soul. It¡¯s been his pet project for millenia.¡±


    Six sets of eyes turned to Barck, who grumbled and buried his face in his smoking drink.


    Archis leaned forward with interest, his eyes sparkling. ¡°Oho! Now <i>that</i> is interesting! In my experience, the Spirit goes mad when you do that. Why isn¡¯t that goat a screaming psychotic mess?¡±


    ¡°Have you <i>met</i> a goat?¡± Aaron asked, rolling his eyes.


    ¡°The Spirit only goes mad due to the constant changes in stimuli and life experience.¡± Midna said, continuing to stir her smoking beer as she spoke. ¡°That goat spent multiple millenia being named Penelope, sitting around drinking beer and eating good food all day. As far as her Spirit is concerned, it¡¯s always been the same life.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need rules about that.¡± Lunara frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of a sudden influx of animalistic souls that we¡¯ll need to stuff into mortal bodies.¡±


    Archis whistled appreciatively. ¡°So you gave it a Blessing, Barck? That¡¯s a sneaky way of getting extra souls! That goat used [Nothingness] to keep out of sight so the other must¡¯ve been Yearn?¡±


    Barck shifted ufortably. ¡°No. I¡¯ve been locked out of the Game, remember? I haven¡¯t paid attention to the goat at all.¡±


    This time every gaze shifted to Midna, who gave a quiet little ¡°*Yip*¡± before vanishing in a swirl of grimy hair.


    ¡°Yearn¡­.¡± Lunara said, her eyes widening. ¡°<i>That¡¯s</i> what she¡¯s been doing! Where is she!?¡±


    Archis scratched his long beard. ¡°She¡¯s, ah, driving.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s been driving a lottely.¡± Aaron frowned.


    Lunara¡¯s face was growing frantic. ¡°And none of you found that odd!?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that usually keeps tabs on her.¡± Archis shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to peek at her Chosen! I wasn¡¯t paying attention to what she was doing <i>here!!¡±</i> Lunara dashed from the gazebo, her strides capable of covering gxies in an instant.


    Silence followed her departure as the other Gods considered what they¡¯d heard. Barck was the first to speak.


    ¡°I cannae help but notice there¡¯re only seven pieces? Who died?¡±


    ¡°Midna¡¯s Chosen gave up.¡± Solen said matter-of-factly. ¡°She¡¯s left the humannds and abandoned her craft.¡±


    ¡°A pity.¡± Tiara sighed. ¡°I liked her writing.¡±


    Aaron nodded. ¡°And I think she would¡¯ve sold well too.¡±


    ¡°But her first choice of material!!¡± Solenughed out loud. ¡°I will forever cherish the Count¡¯s face when he read it!!!¡±


    Suddenly, the mountain shuddered, and the rainbow of light surrounding the gazebo shimmered. Solen¡¯s eyes snapped to the waterfall outside, which had split in two. The great waters arced into the sky, the stream pouring upwards into the vast expanse of space.


    There was another shudder, and a quaking *BOOM* that echoed through the universe.


    A momentter, Lunara stepped back into the gazebo, a petnt young gnomess under her arm.


    ¡°DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE¡¯S BEEN DOING!?¡± Lunara bellowed, throwing Yearn to the ground.


    Yearn shifted into the shape of an elderly elven woman. ¡°Agh, my hip! You need to treat your elders with more respect, youngdy!¡±


    Lunara ignored her. ¡°SHE¡¯S BEEN STUFFING SOULS INTO <i>MONSTERS</i>!!!¡±


    ¡°They were <i>my souls</i>. Besides, it was <i>Barck¡¯s </i>idea.¡± Yearn muttered. ¡°I tested on his goat first. I only tried with the rest after Ricky was ready.¡±


    Tiara gasped. ¡°Your <i>Chosen</i>!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been working with the newly sentient monsters in the dungeons.¡± Yearn nodded eagerly. ¡°He¡¯s molding them into tribes, teaching themnguage, and giving them tools. He¡¯s gotten <i>so much Karma!!!¡±</i>


    The silence was deafening as the assembled Gods ran down the ramifications to their various portfolios.


    Archis was the first to react. Far be it from the God of Knowledge to turn his nose up at something new. ¡°Anything interesting?¡±


    ¡°The Southern Orc tribes have been cooking some really neat dishes!¡± Yearn nodded excitedly. ¡°And the goblins are <i>fascinated</i> by magic!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s broken <i>so much</i>.¡± Lunara groaned. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a <i>nightmare</i> to fix!¡±


    ¡°If it needs fixin¡¯¡± Barckughed. ¡°I agree with Archis! This sounds interestin¡¯!¡±


    Lunara sputtered. ¡°But¡­ But¡­ She¡¯s cheating! She¡¯s supposed to influence the mortal races! Not <i>monsters!!</i>¡±


    Her wails echoed over the mountain, but were lost to the crashing of the waterfall as it resumed the course it¡¯d followed since time immemorial.

 Book 3: Chapter 72: Final Format

    I stared at the elderly white-haired gnomess standing before me, my mouth agape with awe.


    ¡°You really did it?¡± I asked, my voice filled with hope.


    ¡°Of course I did!¡± She said smugly, holding up a man envelope. ¡°Who do you think I am?¡±


    ¡°Vanitart of <i>Muffin and Tart Attorneys at Law</i>?¡±


    ¡°Damn straight!¡± She adjusted her blouse proudly. ¡°If there¡¯s a [Lawyer] in this city with <i>half</i> my winning caseload, I¡¯ll eat my bo!¡±


    And she had a <i>big</i> bo.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you managed to do it in a month.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I thought it would take <i>years</i>!¡±


    ¡°What do you take me for, young dwarf? All the Ordinances were clear, and your own behaviour unimpeachable.¡± Vanitart sniffed. ¡°And with Harmsson pleading guilty, they had no choice but to ept my move to dismiss. You¡¯re still on the hook for that mess, but that mess was what saved you in the end. I was able to get it to count as ¡®in aid of the Crown¡¯ and that did the ticket!¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Harmsson didn¡¯t need to do that. He could¡¯ve plead insanity or somethin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t need to put me on your case either, but here we are. And insanity wouldn¡¯t work with all the [Telepaths] the courts have ess to.¡±


    I shuffled ufortably at the reminder of <i>why</i> the wizened old legal wizard was here. ¡°Well, either way, thank you fer yer help.¡±


    She gave me the old baleful eye. ¡°Hmmm¡­ just so long as your Bran keeps those egg and cheese thingsing, I¡¯ll consider us even.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°You mean the quiche? Of course.¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t let any guards or city officials in here without my say so!¡± She added with a harrumph. She then turned on a spiked heel and stomped out of the office and to her room in our Manor. She¡¯d shown up on our doorstep one day with a note from Harmsson and announced she was now ¡®<i>my attorney</i>¡¯. My protests about already <i>having</i> an attorney were quashed by said attorney giving his professional rmendation that I rece him.


    Hard to argue with that.


    She¡¯d been staying with us for nearly the entire month, and her nest in our library had now reached Kirk¡¯s own looming height. When she wasn¡¯t scouring the kitchen for food, she was out dealing with our legal woes.


    And there were a lot of legal woes.


    First were all the dwarves that I¡¯d put into a sticky situation at the beerfest. Then there were the fines from the city. Then there were the charges from the Crown. Then there were penalties from the Guild. And let¡¯s not forget the venue itself, which was¡­ less than pleased.


    I lost my deposit.


    Annie slumped into the couch as soon as Vanitart was out of sight. ¡°Ugh. What a weight off!¡±


    ¡°Only one of many.¡± I flopped down on the floor and made stone angels. ¡°But that¡¯s the worst of it. I think we¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Nothing about this is fine.¡± Annie muttered. ¡°This is all crazy. I never should¡¯ve left Minnova.¡±


    ¡°But then you wouldn¡¯t ¡®ave been center stage for the biggest event of this century, possibly this millenia!¡±


    ¡°Biggest event!?? Pete, the Goldstones are going to be on every noble¡¯s Feud list for as long as we exist!¡±


    ¡°Not if Schist has anything to say about it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°There¡¯s a fire under that dwarf.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s he doing?¡± Annie asked with concern.


    ¡°Mmm¡­ he came by and chatted while you were out canoodling with my brother. We talked about stuff. He¡¯s managed to patch things up between Harmsson¡¯s faction ¨C well, his faction now ¨C and the Duke. Him helping quell the riot in Greywall definitely helped. Harmsson was a good populist, but Schist is <i>popr</i>. All it took was his say-so and ten thousand angry citizens went home to bed.¡±


    Annie shivered. ¡°I¡¯m still thankful for all the security we installed. That could¡¯ve been bad.¡±


    When the city had arrested Harmsson to great fanfare, the mood in the city had been dark, especially among the recent immigrants and the citizens of Yellowwall. When he¡¯d been sentenced to death for high treason¡­ the city had exploded.


    In some cases literally, as the industrious and furious gnomes made their displeasure known.


    The marching protestors hadn¡¯t <i>quite</i> managed to tear down our storefront defenses, but our neighbours hadn¡¯t been quite so lucky. Some city-provided [Stoneshapers] had managed to fix the worst of the damage, but Greywall still bore the marks of that particr protest a monthter.


    Schist had been able to quell the uprising with the aid of his allies in the various Guilds and his speech at Scout¡¯s Crossing was something for the history books.


    Now a monthter, the city limped on as the final events of the Octamillenial approached. Much had been canceled, but the big fair was still on tomorrow, and¡­


    ¡°Is that it?¡± I asked, pointing at the red envelope that sat on the coffee table.


    ¡°It is.¡± Annie nodded. ¡°The final round of the contest.¡±


    We gave the envelope twin stares of worry. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s just gonna be canceled?¡± I asked. ¡°Like the cksmiths, and the diators?¡±


    ¡°I hope not. Not after we¡¯vee so far.¡± Annie¡¯s voice only had a slight quaver. ¡°But I¡¯m going to check privately before announcing it to everyone.¡±


    With a trembling hand she thumbed open the golden seal and began reading. After a moment, her shoulders rxed with relief. ¡°Oh, thank Barck. They¡¯re letting us finish.¡± Then her face darkened as she continued to read.


    ¡°What?¡±


    She waved me off and continued reading. I tried to read it upside down, but couldn¡¯t quite manage with the fancy calligraphy.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°They¡¯ve changed the format.¡± She groaned. ¡°They¡¯ve attached us to the drinking contest.¡±


    ¡°I mean, that¡¯s not too bad. Rumbob¡¯s the future winner, and he¡¯s in here with us! Heck, it could be fun! A big event all about the brewing and drinking of beer? Sounds like a great idea!¡±


    ¡°Except we need to provide half the beer for the spectators.¡±


    I gulped. ¡°Half by <i>ourselves</i>?¡±


    ¡°Yes, inbination with Brazen Bull Brewing. The rules say that ¡®a brewery capable of being the best in Kinshasa must be able to make at least that much beer.¡¯¡±


    I took a deep breath and centered myself. ¡°With [Rapid Aging] it should be possible.¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be much more than that disastrous beer festival so¡­ I agree.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s the actual contest?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hard one¡­¡± She muttered. ¡°It¡¯s somewhat simr to the Minnova contest, with a twist.¡± She passed me the paper to read and I scanned it. The important bit was near the bottom.


    It read, ¡®This Octamillenial we seek to bring the dwarves of Crack together. The eventual winner of the contest will represent the apex of their craft, and as such, their beer must as well. Thus, the final contest is to brew a beer that is capable of representing Crack. Unlike the previous rounds, the King himself will be the judge, as He alone holds the right to decide what best represents His country.¡¯


    ¡°Thank the Gods we knocked Riverside out, or this would¡¯ve been a shoe-in for Schist. You¡¯re right, it <i>is</i> simr to ¡®a beer that represents a dwarf¡¯.¡± I muttered. ¡°Yet, different. This¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to help much, Annie. This feels like it needs the hand of someone that¡¯s been living in Crack their whole life. ¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s pass this on to the team and let everyone brainstorm at the faire tomorrow. The drinking contest is on the 16th day of the 8th month, and we¡¯re already at the 2nd day of the 7th, so we dont¡¯ have much time.¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Always a rush. I¡¯ll think about it, but like I said, this one may be up to the lot of you. I can provide the recipe if you provide the patriotism.¡±


    Annie punched me in the shoulder. ¡°Hah! I think you¡¯ll have something ready to go. You sell yourself short.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s easy when you¡¯re my height.¡± I snickered. ¡°I¡¯ll go tell Johnsson and Richter. They¡¯re back at the Manor doing chores. You want to tell everyone in the pub?¡±


    Annie nodded. ¡°Aye. And Bran will be wanting <i>this</i>.¡± She waggled another red envelope.


    ¡°Can we read it first too?¡± I asked, reaching for it.


    She swacked my fingers with the paper. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Now, get going.¡±


    I got. I had to pass through the pub to get into the courtyard, and it was a tight squeeze. With our pub proving itself a safe ce to be during the riots, we were packed to the gills nearly every hour of every day. Bran loved it, considering it a test from Yearn herself of his patience and craft.


    The rest of us kind of hated it.


    The saving grace was one certain dwarf, who¡¯d single handedly made everything just a little bit easier.


    I watched Bando out of the corner of my eye as he wandered through the pub. He had two stacks of dishes and three jugs of beer bnced precariously on his various limbs. A dwarf stepped into his way, and where the old Bando wouldn¡¯t tripped, the <i>new</i> Bando waltzed on by as though the interloper wasn¡¯t there.


    I shook my head at the irony. Here was a dwarf that¡¯d briefly dated a <i>God</i>, and said God couldn¡¯t be bothered to Bless him. Instead, the God of Chaos, Aaron, and the Goddess of Rtionships, Yearn had sent down a double Blessing at the same time.


    Bando, bless his soul, had avoided the traps for a young firebrand like [Anarchist] and [Seductionist]. He¡¯d spotted where he was weakest and insteadbined [Chaos] and [Nether] to be a titled [Pacifier]. The chaos of the pub flowed around him like a stone in a river, and he now had a knack for keeping calm.


    Nope! I would<i> not</i> be envious of <i>Bando</i> of all dwarves!


    I had my own rewards!


    I¡¯d gotten a point of Vitality and Strength each forpleting thest round, and a new quest as well!


    <strong>New Quest: The Octamillenial Part 4/4!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Keep on Winning! You got this! I believe in you!</i><i></i>


    <i>Finals Won: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew]</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I <i>wanted</i> that reward. A lucky brew? That sounded <i>awesome</i>!


    My Gnomish Influencer quest had beenpleted as well. Now that I knew what Karmic Reversal did, I was quite happy to have another in my back pocket. The next level of the quest finally matched the Dwarven Influencer quest, but I suspected it would take more time.


    <strong>New Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 8/10!</strong><strong></strong>


    <strong></strong><i>The gnomes need your help. Influence 2,000,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</i><i></i>


    <i> Gnomes influenced: 110,137/2,000,000</i>


    <strong><i>Rewards:</i></strong><i> [Tools of the Trade]</i>


    I was willing to bet the reward was an Ability that summoned brewing tools. Would it summon replicas of our brewing facility here, or just the basics, likedles and measuring cups? Time would tell.


    And time <i>would</i> tell. My influence quests were ramping up by the day, and I was going toplete the first levels of the human and elf quests soon.


    All in all, things were looking up!


    Which is why my mood ckened when I nced outside the main gate to the courtyard and spotted a pair of guards doing their best to look nonchnt while they peeked through thettice.


    I pretended not to have seen anything and wandered over to the manor. As soon as I was inside I called, ¡°Vanitart! They¡¯re back!¡±


    There was the muffled sound of swearing, followed by the rapid tapping of heels on wood. Vanitart arrived sliding down the banister with a furious expression on her face.


    ¡°Those numbskulls! They¡¯d better have a good reason for being here after we won that injunction, or I¡¯mining to Mcjudge!¡±


    I followed the furious gnomess back into the courtyard and over to the gate. The guards shrank back as we approached and I felt a hint of schadenfreudic glee. I absolutely was <i>not</i> above hiding behind an old gnomesses¡¯s skirts when she earned more in a day than most dwarves did in a month.


    ¡°What do you two want?¡± She snapped.


    The guards stepped back, and one took off his helmet.


    ¡°Sorry Yer Ladyship. We¡¯re just making inquiries for now. Nobody¡¯s under suspicion.¡±


    ¡°Then if you don¡¯t have a warrant, look somewhere else and shove off!¡± She pointed out to the street. ¡°Did your mothers not wash your ears? Can you not hear me? Scram!¡±


    One of the guards coloured, and the one who¡¯d addressed Vanitart held him back.


    Vanitart gave them a baleful eye. ¡°You don¡¯t need to answer anything.¡± She muttered my way.


    I shrugged ¡°Eh, I like to imagine myself as civic minded. I¡¯m a loyal citizen of Kinshasa after all. What would you two like to know?¡±


    The pair rxed, and one of them pulled out a poster. ¡°Do you recognize this dwarf?¡±


    Sam¡¯s face stared back at me. A perfect facsimile. My high Charisma kept me from gulping, but it was a near thing.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to answer that.¡± Vanitart said, watching my face.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I know ¡®im, but you probably already knew that. Thest I saw him was at the Garden of Graves. Why?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s wanted for revolutionary activity and a string of recent attacks on nobles. As his next of kin, we wanted to know if you¡¯ve seen him. And encourage you to contact the guard if he shows up. He¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    Iughed. ¡°Next of kin?? What!?¡±


    They gave me twin curious looks and nced over their paperwork. ¡°Peter Roughtuff, once Peter <i>Samson</i>, <i>son of Sam</i> Barrelbow?¡±


    My mouth dropped open.


    ¡°We¡¯re done.¡± Vanitart snapped, and carted me away.

 Book 3: Chapter 73: All’s Faire in Love and War

    Yes, my life was full of problems. So I did what any sane adult does when overwhelmed. Avoidance!


    The music ying in the street was barely audible above the sounds of magical explosions, tamed monsters, and screaming children. Above me, fireworks shattered the night ¡®sky¡¯ and the people in the streets shouted their appreciation.


    I smiled happily at the sight. Copperpot had outdone himself.


    Today was the day of the Octamillenial faire, that long awaited event. All of Redwall had been transformed into a massive open party, with exciting exhibitions, marvels of magic and machine, and lots and <i>lots </i>of food. Everywhere I looked there were food carts and ces to spend what little remained of my enormous piles of gold. It reminded me of nd in Vancouver, minus the hot dogs and plus a lot of hairy children.


    Okay, maybe the hair wasn¡¯t <i>that</i> different. I thought back to some of the in-vogue hairdos of the nies and shuddered. I¡¯d always thanked whatever Gods existed back on Earth, which were apparently many, that Sammy had never wanted a big poofy do. Now, Caroline¡¯s hair back in the day, when she¡¯d gone through that ¡®Fitness Goddess¡¯ phase had been something to see! Brushing her hair had been like parting the red sea!


    I felt the tension in my shoulders releasing as I watched a group of mustachioed youngsters run past carrying giant stuffed animals. It seemed some traditions were universal.


    I turned to the dwarfess beside me with a big shit-eating grin. ¡°Want to go get some candied fruit? They managed to bring in honey from some ce called Hive Dungeon up in the human kingdoms. It sounds <i>awesome</i>!¡±


    ¡°Hive is a horror of a dungeon.¡± Tourmaline said, matter of factly in her same-song se tone. ¡°It has some of the most deaths per capita of any dungeon in North Erden.¡±


    ¡°Spoilsport.¡± I muttered. ¡°I¡¯m getting some of those rock candy sticks at the very least.¡±


    Tourmaline sniffed. ¡°That¡¯s bad for your teeth and can cause unnecessary weight gain. And it¡¯s so sweet. How can you <i>stand </i>it?¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s delicious! And it¡¯s only avable every 8000 years!¡±


    ¡°... It¡¯s avable year round from Mctaffy¡¯s shop.¡± Tourmaline¡¯s lip twitched. ¡°Though I admit there is something about festive candy that makes it taste better. I am not sure why; I¡¯ve tested them and they are elementally identical. Are you sure you¡¯re not a gnome?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the joy! The fun in trying something special on a special day!¡±


    So saying, I dragged her over to a streetside cart and got in line. She wasn¡¯t in her usual disguise, instead donning a bluish-silver set of mithril light te. Her skirt was hemmed in gold, with some tasteful gems at the cuffs. Her tinum curls and beard had been smoothed out until they looked like twin scintiting waterfalls. She was quite eye-catching, and more than one dwarf stumbled as they walked by.


    ¡°Thanks for the invite.¡± Imented as we waited our turn. ¡°I really wanted to talk to someone who wasn¡¯t from the Thirsty Goat. Being locked in the inn for a solid month was driving me stir crazy.¡±


    ¡°Myself as well. I wanted to thank you properly for saving my Grandfather.¡±


    I poked her in the side and she pped my hand away. ¡°Hey, I saved you too, you know.¡±


    ¡°I would have been fine. I have no real value as a political target outside of grandfather, and they would¡¯ve had him.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Never underestimate what desperate men, er, dwarves are capable of. And you sell yourself short, you¡¯re very valuable.¡±


    ¡°I do not see it that way.¡±


    ¡°Well you¡¯re valuable to Opal, right? And Annie? And, well, me, I guess.¡± I rubbed my arm sheepishly on the back of my neck.


    She gave me a long look, then smiled softly. ¡°Thank you Peter.¡±


    The line moved fast, all things considered, and I was soon munching on a slightly-too-sweet stick of candy. And it was <i>expensive!</i> It was easy to forget, but sugar was a raremodity down here.


    We made our way down the street, appreciating the sights as we went. After the bubbling tension of the past month, it was nice to see everyone so festive and happy for once. The mood around the goat had been downright <i>dour</i>.


    Of course, talk eventually turned to work.


    ¡°What is your n for the contest?¡± Tourmaline asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m really not sure.¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t have enough attachment to Crack to say, yet. It¡¯s my home now, but I can¡¯t say I know enough about what defines it.¡±


    Tourmaline gave me an inscrutable stare. ¡°Have your memories still not returned?¡±


    ¡°Mmm¡­ not fully.¡±


    We paused under a tree that¡¯d been installed in a small section of green space. A sign attached to it read ¡®Stop watering the tree with beer, you idiots¡¯. We stood in silence for a while, watching the chaos of the fair.


    ¡°I¡¯ve read your file at city hall,¡± Tourmaline blurted, suddenly. ¡°You¡¯ve never been a [Brewer].¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Oh. Uh, I thought that was private information.¡±


    ¡°My grandfather is the Duke. It was easy to get.¡±


    I crossed my arms. ¡°A bit of an invasion of privacy, isn¡¯t it? To quote a friend, rude!¡±


    Tourmaline snorted. ¡°I was allying myself with you. That much protection is natural.¡±


    ¡°Says the dwarfess who never showed her real face in the entire first year I knew her.¡±


    ¡°Says the dwarf who may or may not be Peter Samson.¡±


    ¡°Nope, just Peter Roughtuff.¡± I leaned back against the tree and broke a piece of rock candy off with my teeth, chewing it in contemtion. This wasn¡¯t exactly unexpected. Heck, I¡¯d given even odds she already knew about my unique status. I decided to approach the problem from a different direction. ¡°What¡¯s your best guess?¡±


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the vition.


    She eyed me warily. ¡°That you are somehow faking his identity. Though Sam should have seen through it. He clearly believes you are who you say you are.¡±


    I flinched at the reminder of he-whom-I-was-trying-not-to-think-about but managed a smile. ¡°Cold.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It means that you¡¯re wrong. Keep guessing!¡±


    ¡°... You managed to hide from the government and Guild long enough to be an illegal Brewer without anyone finding out.¡±


    ¡°Colder.¡± I said, pulling away from the tree. ¡°Let¡¯s head to Berry¡¯s exhibition, and you can keep guessing while we walk.¡±


    We made our way through the packed streets, dodging revelers and street performers. With all the music about, there were often groups of drunken dwarves dancing in traditional styles that ranged from pping knees and kicking feet to bashing each other over the head with wooden sticks.


    At one point we were forced to cross the street while a gnomish [Tamer] ran his duck through an obstacle course that culminated in the duck jumping through a ming hoop. I shivered at the sight of the yellow monster and pulled Tourmaline along faster.


    She continued guessing as we walked.


    ¡°You gained an Ability that helped you learn how to brew.¡±


    ¡°Cold.¡±


    ¡°You used an Ability to steal memories and knowledge from someone else.¡±


    ¡°E, cold. Is that really a thing?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You were given a divine revtion.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­. Warmer.¡±


    ¡°I assume that means I am close?¡±


    I smirked, and drawled, ¡°Waaarmer.¡±


    She stopped for a brief moment, a knot of consternation in the milling crowd. ¡°The Gods are involved in this?¡±


    ¡°Warmer! Don¡¯t stop,e on, we¡¯re going to bete!¡±


    We doubled our pace and ran in silence for a while as she thought, her eyebrows crinkling cutely.


    We knew we¡¯d arrived because the crowd somehow grew <i>thicker</i>, and we could see the enormous stage that Berry had built, or rather grown, with the aid of Joseph and the rest of the elvish embassy.


    A huge tree stood in one of the many beer gardens dotting Redwall, in this case a rather unique one called ¡®The Actual Bloody Garden¡¯. It was, of course, <i>actually</i> a garden, with grass, flowers, and everything else. It had provided the necessary soil and magic for Jospeh to grow a gigantic fuck-off tree in under a week. It rose up into the air at least ten storeys, and its branches spread out over the nearby single-storey buildings. The bottom branches had been covered in wooden ts to create a stage, and then festooned with lights and streamers.


    It looked massively out of ce, and gloriously festive.


    Tourmaline looked over the incredible bit of construction and then back at me. ¡°The Whistlemugs, Raspberrysyrup, Boomdust. You seem to be connected to so much change. Are you ¨C ¡° her tone grew oddly hopeful, and cracked slightly ¡°are you Barck?¡±


    I could guess where her mind was going. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry Tourmaline. I¡¯m not a God.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re getting warmer.¡± I nodded at the stage. ¡°Let¡¯s find a good ce to sit, and you can give me your next guess after the concert.¡±


    We managed to buy our way into a prime spot on top of a nearby shop, and settled down. Tourmaline activated an Ability and brought a small keg of beer out of nowhere with a *pop*, and I poured us each a ss. It was our own Kinshasa brew, and I nodded approvingly as we raised our mugs in cheers.


    ¡°For Crack and Annie!¡± We both intoned as the lights on the tree strobed, and the whine of an electric guitar sted out over the crowd. A trio of elves danced out onto the stage, their movements kicking up leaves. They were close to dwarven in shape and size with long green beards, and I tapped my toes in glee. The mythical dwarven elves atst! They were dressed in ck and white outfits that shimmered with inner magical light.


    And then the pink princess of pop strutted onto stage wearing a ck sequined halter top that made her look like she¡¯d been dipped in ck diamonds. She struck a pose and the crowd cheered. She thrust up her fist, and the music swelled into the nostalgic refrain of Taylor Swift¡¯s <i>New Romantics</i>. This had been Sammy¡¯s favourite song during her Swifty stage. Berry and her dancers strutted about the stage singing the opening lines. Then, as Berry ramped up to the chorus, my limited [Manasight] picked up the movement of Mana and the entire garden was swallowed by pitch darkness. Then with her next few lines of song, the leaves of the tree were transformed into glittering gems that dropped down like raindrops, the only light shimmering in the entire world.


    It was breathtaking.


    Which was precisely why the crowd started screaming the nostalgic scream of teenage girls.


    The rest of the concert was much the same; Berry had clearly chosen a tracklist celebrating change and hope. <i>Break Free, Levitating,</i><i>Don¡¯t Stop me Now</i>, and hriously, <i>Crazy in Love</i>. It wasn¡¯t all roses though, and I openly wept when she came out onto the stage with a guitar and solo¡¯d <i>Hurt</i> by Johnny Cash.


    After a solid hour of song and spectacle, it was over. Berry ended the concert with a massive congration of fire that flowed all the way up to the great crack far above and spread out like a rippling carpet.


    I really hoped she had a permit for that.


    The crowd immediately began to disperse, seeking variously food, bathrooms, more to drink, or a quiet ce to sit and contemte the meaning of life. Tourmaline and I didn¡¯t have anywhere to go, so we decided to wait for the crowd to disperse before we climbed down.


    ¡°You knew a lot of those songs.¡± Tourmaline dered. ¡°And I¡¯m certain you haven¡¯t watched her practice for a while.¡±


    ¡°Nope. I was locked in the house pretty tight. Does that change your guess?¡±


    Tourmaline crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her forearm as she considered me. ¡°You said that Barck was a warmer guess. Are you a soul that Barck ced in the body of Peter Samson?¡±


    ¡°Ooooh! Getting hot!¡±


    Tourmaline blinked. ¡°Only hot? That isn¡¯t correct?¡±


    ¡°Not fully.¡± I grinned. ¡°Come on, you¡¯re quite close!¡±


    ¡°Another God?¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a soul, but something else?¡±


    ¡°Colder!¡±


    ¡°This is ridiculous, just tell me.¡± Tourmaline huffed. ¡°I am running out of time to spend and would prefer not to waste it on such frivoloties.¡±


    I tsked. ¡°Well, that¡¯s no fun. If you must know, I <i>am</i> a soul that Barck put into this body after Peter Samson¡­ died¡­ but I¡¯m also from another world entirely.¡±


    Tourmaline nted her head to the side and examined me. ¡°Another world? That exins a lot...¡±


    ¡°Ouch! Does that satisfy your curiosity?¡±


    ¡°It does. Thank you.¡±


    I poured us a fresh round of beers and she took hers in silence. ¡°Did you have any questions?¡±


    Tourmaline took a long drink before answering. ¡°... do you know much about poisons? Or did your world have any knowledge that could help me? Anything you couldn¡¯t share before?¡±


    My smile turned into a frown. Tourmaline¡¯s mother had been poisoned a while back, and was on magical life support as the insidious toxin tried to kill her. ¡°No. I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know much about poisons at all. Did you find what you were looking for?¡±


    Tourmaline gave a very uncharacteristic curse. ¡°Midna¡¯s Mangy Mullet, I did! I even made a cure, but taking it will kill her. She¡¯s too weak. I had hoped¡­ but I should know not to hope. I just need to work harder.¡±


    I bit my lip as I considered Tourmaline. Her family had been instrumental in getting us off, and we still needed her to get us a shot at the Herder Treasure. ¡°When you say the cure would kill her, is that a guarantee? Like, if she took the poison, she¡¯d be fated to die? But she¡¯d be healed if she survived?¡±


    Tourmaline gave me a curious look. ¡°That is an odd way to put it, but yes¡­ I¡¯ve been asking around about highly Specialized [Healers] to see if they have anything that might help.¡±


    I took a deep breath and came to a decision. I¡¯d just gotten it, and I¡¯d wanted to save it for myself, but this seemed a worthy use. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about poison, but I do have something that might be able to help. How about you take me to your mother, and we¡¯ll talk about it on the way.¡±


    Tourmaline stared at me in shock, and as I exined, her shock turned into purposeful steps as she dragged me behind her.


    It was my only Karmic Reversal, but¡­ it would be worth it!

 Book 3 Official Release on Amazon!

    <strong>The Thirsty Goat Brewpub is on the move!</strong>


    With the events of the Regional Octamillenial Brewing Contest behind them, the team heads to the dwarven capital topete against the best the country has to offer. But when they arrive, they find a city in turmoil.


    Political factionspete for dominance in the city as the Octamillenial approaches, but Pete has more important things to worry about, like sourcing a local supplier for hops! Will Pete manage to nab the mantle of the greatest brewer? Will Penelope finally find her prince? And why are ducks so terrifying? With the help of new friends, the Thirsty Goat will need to weather the storm as the capital city erupts in one big brouhaha!


    This tale has been uwfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    <strong>Book 3:</strong> /amazon/B0CW1D91PT


    <strong>Book 1:</strong> /amazon/B0CC6CFVRT


    <strong>Book 1 Audio:</strong> /amazon/B0CHK42Z41


    <strong>Book 3 of a Bestselling Cozy Fantasy Series filled with love,ughter, epic fantasy, and a little mncholy.</strong>

 Book 3: Chapter 74: Iris Barnes

    Tourmaline led me through the city to the gates of ckwall. Unlike when I came here with Bran, the guards didn¡¯t even <i>try</i> to stop us, they just waved us through. Tourmaline walked through the gate with her head held high without so much as looking at them, and the guards thumped their chests as she passed.


    ¡°That¡¯s handy.¡± I muttered as we made our way down the pristine, sterile streets of ckwall. There wasn¡¯t a soul to be seen; the entire city was at the various festivities.


    ¡°It¡¯s annoying.¡± Tourmaline scoffed. ¡°But it does have its uses. I prefer the way people react to me as Wreck, but I will not deny the privilege my position affords me.¡±


    ¡°Must be nice ta have the best of both worlds.¡±


    ¡°It is a travesty. Often I feel like I¡¯m not a citizen of Crack at all, but some separate country. Though it pains me, I agree with much of that idiot Harmsson¡¯s <i>Great Charter</i>.¡±


    I gave her a side eye. ¡°I heard from Schist that you¡¯ve been helping him behind tha scenes.¡±


    Tourmaline nodded. ¡°He is <i>much</i> easier to work with. And he¡¯s clearly not motivated solely by personal gain.¡±


    ¡°So, uh, what¡¯re you aimin¡¯ for? Can I ask?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ no doubt Opal will tell you everything eventually anyways. Our deal regarding Harmsson is over, but I would appreciate it if you continued to send me updates on the pulse of the city.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have Schist fer that?¡±


    ¡°He is busy. You are not.¡±


    ¡°<i>Excuse</i><i>me</i>??¡±


    ¡°You are excused.¡±


    ¡°Fiiiine, we can keep sending updates. What¡¯s tha n?¡±


    Tourmaline began ticking points off her fingers. ¡°Schist has been putting pressure on the Council of Greybeards through his contacts within the Guilds and his popr support. He may not be a Guildmaster or an official Greybeard, but he¡¯s been around long enough to practically count as one. Your friend Copperpot has collected the gnomish oligarchs in Western Crack and is applying financial pressure from that direction. And from my end, I have been going to soirees and dinners that neither of them are party to, and gathered significant political support from the minor nobility. Many of the younger dwarves are upset with the state of the country, and wish to see change.¡±


    ¡°Phew.¡± I breathed. ¡°That¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± Tourmaline agreed. ¡°But it will be worth it. It is about time that we properly integrated the gnomes and codified the actual responsibilities andws for the nobility.¡±


    ¡°Any chance I could get into one ¡®a those?¡± I asked. ¡°I have ta boot Louis ckbeard in the nards.¡±


    Tourmaline arched an eyebrow. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Do I need a reason? He¡¯s <i>Louis ckbeard</i>. But if you must know, I made a promise.¡±


    ¡°A worthy promise. Unfortunately, after he betrayed Harmsson, Louis has be a favoured son of the Council. He is basically untouchable right now.¡± She glowered at the thought, her fists clenched.


    ¡°And, uh, what about your father?¡± I asked. I¡¯d never met or even heard the fellow mentioned. ¡°Where does he fit into this?¡±


    Tourmaline shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s taking care of our family holdings further East. With the recent increase in monster attacks, he is very busy. He left the care of Mother to me.¡±


    Rough. As a father, I chafed at the thought; I couldn¡¯t imagine leaving a sick Caroline for Sammy to take care of. But, I also wasn¡¯t responsible for an entire city, so I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.


    We continued to chat about the state of the country as we walked through the empty streets. I¡¯d missed a lot during the month I¡¯d been locked inside the Goat, and it was nice to hear what my friends and acquaintances had been up to.


    Also, it helped keep Tourmaline¡¯s mind off what was about toe. There was a non-zero chance that what we were trying wouldn¡¯t work, and her mother would be dead within the day. She was showing a lot of trust in me. I could only hope that I lived up to her expectations.


    Finally, we arrived at the gate of Whitewall, and <i>what</i> a gate it was! Unlike all the other walls, which were, well, walls. Whitewall was the end of Crack itself, a massive white cliff that towered up to the ¡®ceiling¡¯ far above. The gate was a pair of white metal doors that dwarfed the surrounding buildings. They were wide and tall enough for a trio of wagons to pass through side-by-side. Runes were etched into nearly every inch of their shining surfaces, and they glowed with an inner fire in my [Manasight]


    I whistled. ¡°Impressive.¡±


    Tourmaline nodded. ¡°They¡¯re mostly ornamental at this point, but they once had to stand against the strongest attacks that the ancient monsters of Crack could send at them.¡±


    This time we <i>were</i> stopped at the gates by a pair of guards in ck Adamantine armour. They were serious and no-nonsense as they scanned us with Abilities and magic items, and checked our IDs. When they were satisfied that we weren¡¯t going to try and assassinate the King or something, they waved us through.


    Whitewall actually felt like a throwback to Gemena, with its clean golem-patrolled hallways and winding corridors. Unlike Gemena though, the tunnels wererge enough for wagons, and there were no dirty miners trudging through them, just well-dressed and un-armored servants hurrying to and fro. They avoided our gaze, and stepped differentially out of the way whenever we crossed paths.


    ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s annoying.¡± I grumbled, as we passed a trio wearing green and orange livery. The group had stopped dead in their tracks and stood to the side of the tunnel when they¡¯d seen us, their eyes to the floor. ¡°It feels¡­ <i>undwarven</i>.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tourmaline said. ¡°And rude.¡±


    ¡°How do you deal with it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I sequester myself in myboratory and avoid public spaces as much as possible.¡± Tourmaline sniffed.


    With her guidance we soon arrived at arge open square. The main tunnel opened up to a courtyard that stretched about twenty meters up, and spread out roughly the length of a football field. Bright white crystals illuminated the surrounding white stone from every angle, eliminating all shadows and making it feel like the frigging holo-deck from Star Trek. Arge fountain, likely fed by the Darkwater somewhere far below us, sprayed water up to the ceiling before arcing down in scintiting rainbows.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°Nice ce.¡± I gulped. We were the only people in therge space, and it felt <i>ominous</i>.


    ¡°The Court of Nobles. There are a lot of magical defenses hidden in here.¡± Tourmaline said, nonchntly continuing forward. ¡°The Lyceum you so desperately want to get into is up those stairs over there,¡± she pointed all the way across the square to where a wide set of stars arced up to a tunnel set in the wall. ¡°But Castle Barnes is over this way.¡±


    She pointed to an enormous gate, then led me off to the left, where a trio of smaller tunnels branched out in different directions. We went down one and were soon back in the twisting branches of ancient dwarven architecture. After a surprisingly long walk, we stopped at one of many identical intersections.


    ¡°What¡¯re we doin¡¯ here?¡± I asked.¡±I thought Castle Barnes was the other way.¡±


    ¡°Mother isn¡¯t being kept in Castle Barnes.¡± Tourmaline said, cing her hand against a nk wall. My Manasight and regr sight both showed that there was nothing there. ¡°My Grandfather wanted to avoid tempting my Uncles. Mother is still his heir, even in her current state. We have a double pretending to be her in the medical ward back home.¡±


    So saying, she pressed her palm against the wall and <i>twisted</i>. There was the briefest *woosh* of air as the wall soundlessly dropped into the floor, revealing a new tunnel.


    ¡°This way.¡± Tourmaline quickstepped into the tunnel and I followed after. The door slid back up behind us and I eyed it with interest.


    ¡°No magic on that door,¡± I observed. ¡°Just pure engineering? I guess that helps keep it hidden.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Though a [Whisperer] could find it if they thought to ask the stones in this area. That¡¯s why it''s in a random tunnel like this.¡±


    ¡°Still¡­ why hasn¡¯t it been found?¡± I asked. ¡°Surely the nobility ¡¯avebed over every tunnel in Whitewall by now.¡±


    ¡°There are hidden spaces like this <i>all over</i> Whitewall. Knowing where they are isn''t overly helpful.¡± Tourmaline dered, ¡°Also, there were a dozen guards hiding on the other side of that door. If you were some random [Whisperer] or weren¡¯t with me, they would¡¯ve immediately eliminated you.¡±


    I gulped. I hadn¡¯t seen or sensed <i>anyone</i>. I went and activated <i>dwarves</i> on my [Map] and swore under my breath as dots propagated it. I nearly jumped as one such dot appeared inside the wall directly beside me. Gods<i>damn</i>!


    After a short walk we arrived in a small room with a bed in it. A white-haired dwarf in the armor of a [Healer] sat beside it in a wooden chair. She had mousey grey hair done up in a bun and a short goatee simr to Opal¡¯s. The room wasfortable, but in, with no ornamentation or decorations.


    A single dwarfessy in repose on the bed. It was easy to see who Tourmaline got her beauty from. Iris Barnes had the same tinum curls and smooth porcin skin as her daughter. Her beard was well brushed and maintained, though not in any particr style. Unlike her daughter, who tended to the severe, Iris Barnes had a more aquiline profile. If I had to describe her in a single word, it would be <i>valkyrie</i>.


    I¡¯d been expecting something like Sleeping Beauty, with a princess ready to be awoken. Instead, Lady Barnse¡¯s face was a horrid tinge of blue, and her breath came out in ragged gasps. ck veins stood out on her cheeks, and every once in a while she heaved in pain. The [Healer] kept a constant stream of Mana pouring into her patient, and she looked equally haggard.


    ¡°How is mother, Healer Beatrice?¡± Tourmaline asked, without preamble.


    ¡°Ah, Tourmaline.¡± The [Healer] gasped, wiping sweat from her brow. ¡°No better I¡¯m afraid. Thatst tincture you brought seemed to reduce her pain though. It may be worth trying more.¡±


    ¡°I have something new to try.¡± Tourmaline said, gesturing at me. ¡°A friend has an Ability that should help.¡±


    Healer Beatrice eyed me with the mistrustful eye of a doctor who suspected a WebMD self-diagnosis. ¡°You¡¯re one thing, Tourmaline, I trust your ability as a [Toxicologist]. But a random dwarf off the street is another. Have you spoken to your Grandfather about this?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Tourmaline dered. ¡°But he knows Peter, and he trusts him.¡±


    I kept my eyebrows tamped down. He <i>did</i>?


    ¡°Then I must protest.¡± The dwarfess said, moving between us and the bed. ¡°Lady Barnes is my patient. I will have to ask you to tell me what you have nned, first.¡±


    Tourmaline looked cross, but I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s fair. I have a fate maniption Ability.¡±


    The [Healer]¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Those are <i>exceedingly</i> rare. I don¡¯t know of any in all of Western Crack. Are you sure this dwarf is not misleading you, Tourmaline?¡±


    The temperature turned icy as Tourmaline gave her a stern stare. Beatrice paled and stammered, ¡°Excuse me, of course not. You say the Duke knows him?¡±


    Tourmaline nodded. ¡°As well as grand uncle.¡±


    ¡°Prophet Barnes?¡± The [Healer] said, surprise in her voice. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m from Minnova, originally. Prophet Barnes and I did some work together. He taught me a lot.¡± I smoothly interrupted. Oh yes, he¡¯d taught me <i>plenty</i>.


    Beatrice gave me a stern stare, then stepped aside. ¡°Very well. I do so under protest though, Tourmaline.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± Tourmaline said, stepping forward. She pulled a vial out of an extra-dimensional space with a twist of the wrist, and popped the cork. The liquid inside was a grungy brown colour and smelled <i>vile</i>, pun not intended. She passed it to the [Healer] and said, ¡°Administer this when Peter gives the word.¡±


    I stepped up to the bedside and took a deep breath. Here went nothing! ¡°[Lucky Break], [Karmic Reversal]!¡±


    *Bing!*


    <strong><i>[Karmic Reversal]</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Reverse the fate of [Iris Barnes]?</i><i></i>


    <i>Fate will resume its course in one day.</i>


    <strong><i>Do you ept?</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>Yes/No</i>


    I mentally hit ¡®Yes¡¯ as I shouted. ¡°Now!¡±


    Frowning, Beatrice ced her free hand on Lady Barnes with a clipped, ¡°[Administer Medicine]¡±. The liquid level of the vial in her other hand slowly drained away. On the bed, Lady Barnes arched her back and began to spasm. Her gasps turned to moans and then shrieks of pain. The veins on her face went from ck to bright red and began pulsing.


    The [Healer] immediately began activating Abilities rapid-fire ¡°[Lesser Healing], [Reduce Pain], [Cure Poison], I hope you two know what you¡¯re doing!!! Help me hold her down, and Tourmaline, put in the mouth guard!¡±


    I did as instructed, holding down Lady Barnse¡¯s shoulders while Tourmaline inserted a small wooden mouth guard between her teeth. Tourmaline¡¯s face was bone white as Lady Barnes continued to scream and shake, froth and spittle spilling out from behind the mouth guard.


    Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Lady Barnes slumped, her body bing limp as a wet rag. I noticed with relief that her chest was still moving up and down, and the ck veins on her face had receded.


    ¡°Mother?¡± Tourmaline asked, her voice smaller and more broken than I¡¯d ever heard from her. It reminded me of how Sammy had spoken to me in the hospital, and I shuddered. She ran her fingers through her mother¡¯s beard, desperation etched in every movement.


    The [Healer] checked Iris¡¯s pulse and sighed with relief. ¡°Her pulse is stabilizing. I don¡¯t know what you did but ¨C ¡°


    She gasped and fell backwards as Lady Barnes sat bolt upright in the bed, her eyes zing. She grabbed Tourmaline¡¯s wrist in a vicelike grip and looked around the room in confusion. ¡°[Sentinel]! [Greater Improved Perception]! [Quicken]!¡± She shouted, her fingers questing for a weapon that wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°Mother?¡± Tourmaline choked.


    ¡°Mal?¡± Her mother asked, confusion in her voice. She let go of Tourmaline¡¯s wrist and massaged her temples. ¡°Agh, my head! What¡¯s going on? Where are we?¡± She nced down at the bed and her white medical gown. ¡°What am I <i>wearing</i>??¡±


    Beatrice and I left to give the pair some space as Tourmaline burst into tears and fell into her mother¡¯s arms.


    At my request, a pair of beaming guards emerged from the walls to escort me back to Redwall. We walked back through the winding tunnels inpanionable silence.


    Okay, I may have cried a bit, too.

 Book 3: Chapter 75: India Pale Ale

    ¡°I havepleted looking into Brazen Bull Brewing, and I have to say¡­¡± Johnsson began as the meeting floor opened. ¡°This feels a bit anti-climactic. They¡¯re more an engineeringpany that makes beer than a brewingpany.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Richter nodded. ¡°We shoulda been against Riverside for ¡®de finals, not ¡®de semis.¡±


    ¡°Seems a waste.¡± Aqua sighed. ¡°And we used up all our good ideas already too.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself!¡± Johnsson tapped his head. ¡°I¡¯ve got so many good ideas in here!¡±


    Aqua snorted. ¡°Oh yeah! Name one!¡±


    Johnsson waggled his eyebrows. ¡°<i>REALLY</i> strong beer!¡±


    ¡°HAH!¡± Aqua shrieked withughter.


    ¡°Can we be a bit more serious.¡± Annie pulled the room¡¯s attention to her. ¡°I know we¡¯re alling down from an adrenaline high after the events of thest month, but we really do need some ideas.¡±


    Everyone looked my way and I shrugged. ¡°I have lots of beers we could make, but I don¡¯t really know how to tie them to the theme. You lot have lived in Crack for decades, so what would be a beer that represents it?¡±


    Johnsson was the first to speak. ¡°Something dark?¡±


    ¡°Ooh, and wet!¡± Aqua added.


    ¡°And stinky.¡± Richter nodded.


    Annie frowned as the room devolved back intoughter. ¡°Did you really note up with anything yesterday?¡±


    I heaved a breath. ¡°Honestly? I didn¡¯t really think about work at all yesterday.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! He was on a <i>date</i> with <i>Tourmaline</i>!¡± Aqua giggled. ¡°Good for him!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a <i>date</i>!¡± I protested. ¡°It was just two friends hanging out.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you came back sote?¡± Balin asked, wrapping an arm around Annie¡¯s shoulders. She snuggled into him. ¡°Just hangin¡¯ wit¡¯ a friend?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± My voice grew serious. ¡°We managed to cure her mother. The Heir Apparent of the Duke of the West is back, and she¡¯s really, <i>really</i> angry.¡±


    I was met with nk stares.


    Johnsson was the first to speak. ¡°You¡¯re serious? Really!?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°She¡¯s speaking to the Council of Greybeards right now. She ims she knows who poisoned her.¡±


    Johnsson whistled. ¡°She has a lot of allies amongst the high nobility. And the ear of the King. He dotes on her, and there was suspicion that the Council might name her the next ruler of Crack when he dies.¡±


    ¡°Long live the King.¡± Balin muttered.


    ¡°Long live the King¡­.¡± we all repeated. We¡¯d all had enough political upheaval for one year, thank you!


    ¡°Well, good for you!¡± Annie patted me on the back, then pulled me into a hug. ¡°And thank you so much for helping her. I never heard the full story back at the mine, but I knew something was eating her up inside. Does Opal know?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°With the noise Lady Barnes is making in Whitewall? She must¡¯ve heard by now. I decided to keep my distance given¡­ everything.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all fine and dandy.¡± Kirk jumped in. ¡°But we still have a contest to win.¡±


    ¡°What about a beer made from local ingredients like the Kinshasa brew, but made using ingredients from Crack?¡± Aqua asked, then flushed. ¡°Which is what we usually do. Never mind!¡±


    ¡°Somethin¡¯ old?¡± Richter asked. ¡°Like ancient tree bark from Greentree or somesuch?¡±


    ¡°What about a beer using an ingredient from every major dungeon or city?¡± Kirk put in. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of variety there.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡± Annie mused, writing it down on the office chalkboard. ¡°We could talk to Bran about pairing it with a special national menu.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s busy with his own work right now.¡± Aqua said. ¡°He threatened to bake me into a pretzel if I bothered him again.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not fair,¡± I groaned. ¡°He got such a good contest all neatly wrapped in a bow too. ¡®Erdroot¡¯, now <i>that¡¯s</i> a theme! And against the biggest restaurant in Kinshasa too, <i>The Smug Snapper</i>.¡±


    Annie scribbled a little fish on the board. ¡°He has an advantage, since they¡¯re a fish restaurant. They may struggle with a starch based meal.¡±


    Johnsson shook his head. ¡°Their chef¡¯s a five times Specialized [<i>Barck¡¯s</i><i>Great Gourmand]</i>. It¡¯ll be a hard fight.¡±


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°But a delicious one!¡± Kirk smiled, patting his belly. We all nodded in pleased agreement. We could all see the days of experimental delicacies stretching out before us. My mouth watered, and Aqua gulped.


    ¡°I can see we¡¯re all hungry. So let¡¯s try and wrap this up.¡± Annie¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°Do we really have nothing? Balin? You¡¯re probably the most patriotic of us.¡±


    Balin looked up at the ceiling in thought. ¡°I see it all, as an adventurer. And one thing I¡¯ve noticed sincein¡¯ to Kinshasa, is how much there is in Crack bubblin¡¯ beneath the surface, just like the Sacred Brew we all love. We¡¯re a mixed people, with gnomes, dwarves, elves, and humans all livin¡¯ our lives together as best we can. It¡¯s not perfect, but I hear in the humannds, the beastfolk are not more than ves. In the great forests, the elves hold dominion by virtue of their long lives. In tha south, the tribes are all separated. Only here in Crack do we all live together in rtive peace.¡±


    ¡°I can think of some gnomes who would disagree with that.¡± Johnsson muttered.


    Balin shrugged. ¡°Aye. But we¡¯re tryin¡¯. Tha gnomes are drinkin¡¯ beer now, and Copperpot¡¯s about to release a new sour. Schist is screamin¡¯ about that Great Charter of Harmssons at City Hall every day to anyone that¡¯ll listen, and mebbe somethin¡¯ wille of it. I think a beer that represents Crack would be a beer that¡¯s made for everybody.¡±


    We all blinked, and then Richter began to p. I joined in, and soon the gentle patter of hands meeting hands filled the room.


    ¡°That was lovely dear.¡± Annie pecked him on the cheek. ¡°And you may have something. Wasn¡¯t that the whole reason for that Umqubothi, Pete? You¡¯ve always wanted to make a beer for everyone.¡±


    ¡°Eh, you¡¯ll never make a beer everybody likes.¡±I nodded slowly. ¡°Buuuut, I¡¯m now able to magically iste the gluten proteins in barley and rece them with pork proteins about 95% of the time. So we could make a barley beer, which may be more ptable for humans and gnomes in general while not causing dwarves to bloat up like balloons.¡±


    Richter held his face in his hands. ¡°Please tell me ya didn¡¯t make a spell ta turn barley inta bacon.¡±


    I gave him a brilliant smile. ¡°Sure did.¡±


    ¡°Everyone is gonna think <i>I</i> taught you to be like ¡®dat.¡± He huffed.


    ¡°Not a problem so long as we win.¡± Annie patted him on the back. ¡°I like that idea. Anyone else?¡±


    ¡°Are we doing anything fancy again, like smoking beer?¡± Johnsson asked, looking at the distraught Richter.


    ¡°NO!¡± Was the immediate reply from the entire room.


    ¡ª


    A few hourster and only Johnsson and Richter and I were left, hard at work putting the finishing touches on the fermentation tanks.


    I waved over the tank with my wand, carefully drawing the required sigil. Richter leaned over my shoulder, his eyes intense, and I swore as the Sigil winked out. ¡°Lunara¡¯s Lace! Would you stop doin¡¯ that Richter! I cannae concentrate with you hangin¡¯ over my shoulder like that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just ¡®mirin my student¡¯s work.¡± Richter said.


    ¡°Never, <i>ever</i> say that word again.¡± I grumped, starting the sigil again. I could feel my Mana reserves tightening, so I¡¯d need to take a break soon.


    ¡°What, ¡®<i>student¡¯</i>? Ya can''t deny it Pete!¡±


    ¡°No, ¡®mirin. I have nightmares about that word.¡±


    ¡°If you say so.¡±


    I finished the sigil, and it flowed into the fermentation tank in a scintiting blue stream of mana.


    ¡°And that does it.¡± I said, rising to my feet and dry-washing my hands. ¡°Now we just let it ferment, and we¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°What did you call it again?¡± Johnsson asked, as he inspected the tanks, ensuring there was no bubbling or anything blocking the seals. An improper seal on a fermentation tank could be explosive, and we wanted to avoid that.


    ¡°It¡¯s an IPA.¡±


    Johnssons gave a curious grunt. ¡°IPA?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Most of us do, especially after a beer!¡±


    ¡°Shaddup. How¡¯s it taste?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to describe. IPA is short for India Pale Ale, and it¡¯s famous for being the hoppiest beer around.¡±


    Johnsson hopped down from his stool and moved to the next tank. ¡°But why that one in particr? Why not just a regr Sacred Brew with barley?¡±


    ¡°It has to do with what an IPA is and why it exists. Back on Earth, India was half a world away and across the ocean from where beer was most popr, a continent called Europe. At the time, a European Country called Great Britain had conquered India and was plundering its riches to send back home. The problem was, the British sailors <i>needed</i> beer to survive the grueling conditions of the British Navy. But trips could take <i>months</i>.¡±


    ¡°The beer went bad.¡± Richter hypothesized.


    ¡°It did.¡± I nodded. ¡°The solution was in the bittering agent used for beer at the time: hops. This little nt,¡± I held up a piece of hops fruit, ¡°also serves as a preservative. By waiting just a little longer to insure most of the sugars have been fermented, and then massively hopping the beer, the ale could survive being shipped to India. Hence, India Pale Ale. We¡¯ll probably need to call it Crack Pale Ale, or CPA for short, then hope the local ountant¡¯s Guild doesn¡¯t go after us. Nyuck!¡±


    ¡°Why would they do that?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°*Sigh* Never mind.¡±


    Richter stared at the tanks. ¡°Will it even taste good? Those hops are nice mixed wit¡¯ Annie¡¯s bitters, but ¡¯dey¡¯re real different.¡±


    I clicked my tongue. ¡°We won¡¯t know until we try, but honestly¡­ I think it¡¯ll turn away a lot of customers. It¡¯ll taste quite a bit different ¨C a lot drier and more bitter¨C but it willst as far as we can send it. To each corner of Crack and even to the humannds and the south. No rare Teleportation Abilities or expensive alchemicalponents required, just good old goat-driven wagon and time.¡±


    ¡°It certainly meets the theme.¡± Johnsson nodded. ¡°It¡¯ll be the only beer I know of that any dwarf in Crack or on the surface will be able to drink. Eventually.¡±


    ¡°Eventually.¡± I nodded. ¡°It is a risk.¡±


    ¡°But a good one.¡± Johnsson patted me on the shoulder. ¡°I think we have the right idea. Even if we lose the contest because people don¡¯t like the taste, we¡¯ll have made a beer that <i>we</i> think represents our country, and more importantly, one that anyone can drink.¡±


    ¡°You do realize that we¡¯re going to be locked in here for another month brewing, right?¡± Iined. ¡°With that stupid requirement that we provide half of the beer for the drinking contest, I¡¯m going to need to sit here and cast Barley to Bacon and [Rapid Aging] nonstop.


    ¡°And we all appreciate yer sacrifice.¡± Johnsson grinned. ¡°Just think of all you¡¯ll be able to do when we win and you be a Lord.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Let¡¯s spend the time with our heads down. Between everything Schist¡¯s been doing, and now all the kerfuffle around Lady Barnes, we¡¯re a bit too visible politically. I say we focus on being a cozy inn for a change.¡±


    There was general consensus, and we went our separate ways. With the tavern so packed, we were all working around the clock, and there wasn¡¯t time to waste. Two weeks until the IPAs were ready, and then¡­


    <i>Showtime</i>.

 Book 3: Chapter 76: Son of Sam

    The two weeks rushed by in a blur. The city rose in a fresh uproar with the return of Lady Barnes. She used the Patriarch of n ckbeard, the Duke of the North, as the culprit in her poisoning, and things got <i>really</i> noisy for a while. We were forced to batten down our hatches for a second time as angry dwarves took to the streets protesting the injustices oft enacted upon them by the high nobility. There were demands that Duke ckbeard be given the same punishment as any other dwarf under the Ordinances while protests rose over the mistreatment of those living in ckbeard heldnds.


    And right in the thick of it were Schist and Tourmaline. The two of them hit it off pretty well, and they were a powerful tag team. Schist had most of the local popce on his side, and he¡¯d also co-opted Harmsson¡¯s people while Tourmaline had surprising sway amongst the young nobility who <i>didn¡¯t</i> have sticks up their asses.


    Between the two of them, with Lady Barnes pushing from the top. The King and Council slowly began to bend. Changes were small at first, like allowing gnomes to hold positions in City Hall, but the snowball had begun rolling.


    Not that we at the Thirsty Goat were really paying attention; we had too much to do.


    Which brought us to beer testing day. And a surprise for me from Bran.


    ¡°Bran.¡± I choked, staring at the bowl in front of me with tears in my eyes. ¡°Tell me this is what I think it is.¡±


    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s my entry for the contest.¡± Bran said smugly. ¡°Fried erdroots with beer gravy, ground sausages, and cheese curds. Yer pootangy thingy, or as I like to call it, <i>Curdly Fries!</i>¡±


    I eyed him warily. ¡°That¡¯s it? Not ¡®Bran¡¯s Sloppy Weiner¡±?


    Branughed, his belly heaving. ¡°What would give you an idea like that!¡±


    ¡°No reason.¡± I took a bite from the te of poutine and closed my eyes in rapturous bliss. ¡°Mmmm!!! It¡¯s perfect!¡±


    ¡°Course it is. It¡¯s my entry fer the contest. I got a bunch of different versions, but I think I can argue they¡¯re all one dish.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ why the wieners? I rmended corned beef, or slices of goat by the way.¡±


    ¡°Found the wieners were tha most popr with that unending belly you lot call an inn.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it marvelous.¡± Annie cooed. ¡°We¡¯re making so much money, it¡¯s like all those fines are a thing of the past.¡± She leaned against Balin and the two shared a peck on the cheek.


    I chowed down on the poutine Bran had ced before me with abandon. Poutine was, of course, one of my favourite meals of all time. As a Canadian, I was legally required to be obsessed with two dishes. pjacks with Canadian bacon and maple syrup, and Poutine.


    The variety Bran had made used the appropriate squeaky cheese curds, which were thumb sized globs of white cheddar cheese. Some restaurantsmitted sacrilege by making Poutine using shredded cheddar, and were then burned to the ground by necessity. The curds were ced cold on a bed of steaming nched fries, then covered liberally in hot gravy and some variety of meat, usually Montreal corned beef. I was personally a fan of pulled pork poutine, which used shredded barbecue pork instead.


    Bran¡¯s used a spicedmb sausage with a peppered beer gravy that was simply divine. The cheese had melted to form a scrumptious gooey mess that clung to the fries as I lifted them to my mouth. I took another chewy bite and moaned with pleasure.


    ¡°Are you going to ask those fries on a date before going all the way, Pete?¡± Aqua asked sardonically.


    ¡°Shaddup. I¡¯ve been waiting for this for years.¡± I muttered around a full mouth.


    ¡°I think <i>I¡¯m</i> going to need therapy after watching you eat.¡±


    Annie pped her hands. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get things over with. Poor Whistlemop refuses toe out of his room until it¡¯s done.¡±


    The assembled grumble snickered. Unfortunately, we weren¡¯t joined by any of our usual hangers on today, with everyone so busy busy busy.


    *Baaah!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°I agree!¡±


    I eyed Penelope and guarded my fries. ¡°I¡¯m still not sure how she got down in the sewer with me. I really, <i>really</i>, want to ask Barck if she¡¯s another Chosen or something. And has anyone else noticed that she keeps vanishing and then turning up in the kitchen?¡±


    There was a *sching* sound as Bran sharpened one of his knives. ¡°<i>Yes</i>.¡±


    ¡°We can have a [Tamer] look into things when everything¡¯s a little tamer.¡± Annie filled the awkward silence that followed, then blushed. ¡°Gods, you¡¯re rubbing off on me, Pete.¡±


    I snickered. ¡°Not while Balin¡¯s around! Nyuck!¡±


    ¡°Shaddup, Pete!¡± Balin growled.


    We had a lot of different ratios of hops to test, so Richter got to work pouring multiple bowls for Penelope. The greedy goat followed him around the brewroom, butting at his ankles. When Richter had all the bowls filled hey them on the ground and we watched with rising excitement as Penelope went to drink.


    And refused the first bowl.


    The grumble groaned. Penelope bucked her head, stamped her foot, bleated angrily and moved to the next bowl.


    And refused it too.


    *Maaaaahhh!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°What is this garbage youy before me!?¡±


    This tale has been uwfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Now we were nervous. We¡¯d never had Penelope refuse an entire batch before, so there was still hope!


    Penelope continued down the line discarding bowl after bowl. When she got to thest one in the line she sniffed it, turned to leave, then bent back top at it curiously. Then, with a happy bleat, she dug in.


    ¡°Oh thank all the Gods and all their various bits.¡± Aqua breathed.


    ¡°I was really worried there.¡± I admitted.


    ¡°But she is drinking and ¡®dat¡¯s what matters.¡± Richter agreed.


    We watched her guzzle happily until she finished thest of the bowl, burped, then waltzed out of the brewroom without so much as a backwards nce.


    ¡°Where¡¯s she going?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°Excuse me.¡± Bran said darkly, storming out the door after her.


    Annie shook her head. ¡°That goat is going to get herself in trouble one of these days.¡±


    ¡°Eh, she saved my life. I can give Bran a Penelope budget.¡± I shrugged. ¡°At least we have one working ratio.¡±


    Richter poured a round for everyone and I led a toast to King and country.


    I swished my first sip around in my mouth for a while. I put it at an IBU 50 plus from all the hops, with a slightly dry mouthfeel. It was <i>very</i> much an IPA, with a definite <i>kick</i> from the bitter aftertaste. It finallycked the mealy dusty feeling that erdroot beer left in my mouth, and the alcohol content was high enough to be noticeable without being as high as the doppelbock. I¡¯d need to check itter.


    It tasted like home.


    ¡°Ooooh, I think the gnomes will <i>love</i> this.¡± Aqua muttered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± Johnsson huffed.


    ¡°We¡¯d guessed that was going to be a problem.¡± Annie said, jotting down everyone¡¯s thoughts andints on the board.


    We discussed our thoughts on the beer for a while until Bando suddenly interrupted us by popping his head into the room. ¡°Pete. Someone to see you. And Bran¡¯s chasing Penelope around the bar with a cleaver.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it.¡± Annie sighed.


    I followed Bando out to the pub and to a back table. A blonde haired dwarf was sitting there, looking pensive. He had arge walrus moustache and the barest hint of a goatee. I didn¡¯t recognize him, but he still looked oddly familiar.


    He saw me approach and gave a sad smile. ¡°¡®Allo thered. You¡¯re looking well, eh?¡±


    It was the Eastern ent that did it. My stomach dropped out and my face froze.


    ¡°Sam,¡± I said, my mouth tight. ¡°Or should I call you <i>father</i>.¡±


    ¡ª


    We sat drinking in silence for a while, a little knot of pent-up emotions in a very busy tavern. Sam had chosen a Liquid Gold, and I was drinking from my special reserve of Dragonator.


    ¡°I came ta tell you that me an Drum are leavin¡¯ town. It¡¯s a bit too hot here fer us right now, and it looks like things are movin¡¯ even without us. We aplished what we wanted. It may be a while before you see us again,¡± Sam eventually muttered.


    I frowned. ¡°Okay. Bye?¡±


    ¡°You called me pa.¡± Sam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. ¡°When did ya remember?¡±


    ¡°It came to my attention a couple days ago. When the <i>Guard </i>came looking for you. Called you dangerous. Are you dangerous, Sam? Should I call ¡¯em?¡± I breathed smoke out onto the table menacingly, then coughed, which ruined the effect.


    ¡°I¡¯d prefer if ya didn¡¯t,¡± Sam sighed. ¡°I shoulda guessed they¡¯de ta you.¡±


    ¡°And why would that be?¡± I said sweetly. ¡°Was if because you and Drum were on Harmsson¡¯s side at that little revolution? Did you know he tried to kill me there?¡±


    Sam squirmed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ¡®bout that. But, we did have someone watchin¡¯ Ambermine! He never would¡¯ve gotten near you but ¡®fer yer little surprise. Drum¡¯s still spoutin¡¯ mad at Harmsson over the whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± I nomitted. ¡°Where <i>is</i> Drum, by the way?¡±


    ¡°Drum¡¯s gettin¡¯ everything ready. And aye, it¡¯s true. I am yer pa. Though¡­ I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s fully true.¡± His voice turned using. ¡°I know yer not really me son.¡±


    I managed to avoid gulping. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Me and Pete were never close. Part of that was my fault. I was never a real good father. I was always away adventurerin¡¯ with Drum until our party disbanded. After that, I never could stay still for long. Travelled around yin¡¯ me pipes fer the odd gold ¨C you know how bards are. His mum never cared, she loved that about me, but it was hard on Pete. He dropped out of school. Fell in with some bad crowds. He buried ¡¯imself in drinkin¡¯ and gamblin¡¯, an¡¯ left his ma with a load of debts. When I heard he was picked up and sent to a reform mine, it wasn¡¯t unexpected. I¡¯d been in and outta them meself over the years.¡±


    He took a deep drink. ¡°Grim knew me, and recognized me from yer file. He told me you¡¯d lost yer memories, and thought I shoulde see ya, see if things changed over time. It can be dangerous, and downright hical in that kinda situation ta just up and say, ¡®Hey look, it¡¯s yer Pa!¡¯ so I just nted myself beside ya and made sure you were okay.¡±


    Bando stopped by and offered a refill of our drinks from a jug.


    Sam took a deep drag, emptying his mug. and motioned for Bando to refill it. When Bando had walked off, he continued. ¡°I watched how ya made that Boomdust, how ya made new friends andpanions. Yer drive and conviction. My son never had those. The most conviction he ever held was the one that put him in that mine. So I could tell, that was the body of my son, the blood of my blood, but the Spirit in it was different. My son was dead.¡±


    I scratched my beard. ¡°So why did you stay?¡±


    ¡°Ta kill ya,¡± Sam said, matter of factly. I felt a chill down my shoulder des, and my hand inched for my war hammer. Sam waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I¡¯m not nnin¡¯ it anymore. I wanted ta see if you were some evil Spirit that¡¯d taken him over with an Ability, or someone that¡¯d stolen my son¡¯s face and was pretendin¡¯ to be him. But I¡¯ve known ya long enough now ta know you were neither. Yer a good dwarf, Pete. And¡­ I¡¯m proud that yer my son.¡±


    I gulped. ¡°But you know¡­ I¡¯m not.¡±


    Sam chuckled. ¡°Ya won¡¯t get away from me that easily,d. You¡¯ve got the blood of Sam Barrelbow in you, and that hasn¡¯t changed. Soulse and go on Erd, and I¡¯ve been watchin¡¯ you for a while. I think yer somethin¡¯ special, and I¡¯m d that my son was chosen fer whatever it is yer doin¡¯. One day far in tha¡¯ future, I think folks¡¯ll still be talkin about the great Peter Roughtuff, son o¡¯ Sam.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I choked. It was hard, as a father myself, to hear that. I wonder if Sammy on Earth would be remembered in the same way? Doubtful. We didn¡¯t exactly think that way in Canada, but still. ¡°Do you want to know? What this is all about?¡±


    Sam shook his head. ¡°Nah. Best I don¡¯t know. Just keep doin¡¯ what yer doin¡¯, son. I¡¯m proud of ya.¡±


    With that, he stood, sped me tight in a hug and walked out the door.


    I stared after him in consternation. That had <i>not</i> been on my list of tasks for the day. I sat and just¡­ drank for a while. I took the moment to look at my character sheet, and where, once upon a time, it had once said Peter Samson.


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong>


    <strong><i>Name:</i></strong><i> Peter Roughtuff</i>


    <strong><i>Age:</i></strong><i> 51 </i>


    <i><strong>Conditions:</strong></i>


    <strong><i>Race:</i></strong><i> Dwarf</i>


    <strong><i>Blessings</i></strong><i>: [Flesh to Stone], [sh of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Map], [Refine Brew], [Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye], [Lesser Arcane Crafting]</i>


    <strong><i>Title:</i></strong><i> [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter]</i>


    <strong><i>Milestones:</i></strong><i> [Power Pick], [Basic sh], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Thick Skin], [Friend: Gnomes], [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Long Stride],[Sense Poison],[Spot Clean], [Unbending], [Rapid Aging], [Lucky Break], [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew]</i>


    <strong><i>Strength:</i></strong><i> 19.8</i>


    <strong><i>Vitality:</i></strong><i> 22</i>


    <strong><i>Agility: </i></strong><i>14.2</i>


    <strong><i>Dexterity:</i></strong><i> 15.4</i>


    <strong><i>Wisdom: </i></strong><i>15.4</i>


    <strong><i>Intelligence:</i></strong><i> 19.4</i>


    <strong><i>Perception: </i></strong><i>18.4</i>


    <strong><i>Charisma: </i></strong><i>21</i>


    And then, it was back to work. With a beer recipe chosen, I was going to be ground into the dust casting spells and Abilities for the next two weeks.


    Hopefully¡ª


    Nope! I stood and went to work. No ¡°hopefullys,¡± just do. To make my Ancestors proud.


    For¡­ Sam.

 Book 3: Chapter 77: Lapis

    And somehow, everything went to n.


    Of course, said n required me to spend nearly every waking moment in the brewroom using [Rapid Aging] and casting [Barley to Bacon]. So it was a <i>shit n</i>.


    Why did the shit ns always go to n? Why couldn¡¯t my n to spend a rxing year brewing and having fun go to n, huh? Care to share Barckie boy?


    It was almost as bad as poor Bran, who discovered what exactly happens when you drop something like Poutine on an unsuspecting popce.


    A packed house every night. That¡¯s what.


    At least I got a point of Dexterity out of it from drawing sigils all day.


    All told when the drinking contest arrived a few weekster, it was practically a relief. All our hard work from the past two years hade down to this.


    Annie was dressed in her finest dress armor as sheid out instructions in rapid fire. ¡°Aqua! Get that sign wrapped up! Richter, make sure Kirk and Penelope didn¡¯t leave anything behind, Johnsson, has Rumbob left yet?¡±


    ¡°Aye!¡± ¡°Yup!¡± ¡°He left an hour ago!¡±


    As for me, I was biting my nails and checking the time. We were only hours away from bing the best brewers in all thend. ¡°The Diggers are staying behind to hold up the fort, and I¡¯ve left the runestone to activate the emergency defenses with Rosie. I think we¡¯re set, let¡¯s go, go, go!¡±


    With everything prepared, and our banners all in hand, we made our way to the colosseum. Unlike the Minnova Colosseum, which had been beneath the Casino, the Kinshasa Colosseum was located in the Facilities district of Redwall. That made it a nice little two hour walk, or thirty minute ride by rented goatback.


    The problem being, nearly the entire tavern wasing with. Everyone wanted to see the results of the contest, and who could turn down a good show and a chance to see the King?


    ¡°Will we all get in?¡± Johnsson asked with trepidation as we split up to find rental goats. ¡°The King is going to be there, and apparently he¡¯s making a big announcement.¡±


    ¡°I knew he was going to be there to judge, but I didn¡¯t hear anything about an announcement?¡± I said, choosing a dappled grey Unigoat to ride. It nudged me curiously, then went back to eating hay. ¡°And we have reserved seating.¡±


    ¡°I heard it at the beardy parlour. Mcshave heard it from a patron who heard it from a Council member.¡±


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°Great. Moreplications. Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s nothing too big.¡±


    ¡°I think it has to do with Lady Barnes and what¡¯s been going on the the ckbeards.¡± Annie said. ¡°Opal mentioned there¡¯ve been a lot of emergency closed door meetings of the Council of Greybeards. Something big <i>is</i> going on, sorry.¡±


    We all groaned, but hopped on our Unigoats and headed off.


    The trip to the Colosseum was electric. That feeling of a city on edge still hadn¡¯t gone away, and was quite possibly here to stay. The main thoroughfare was packed with people, and we moved at a snail¡¯s pace.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to beaaate!!!¡± Aqua whined as we finally made it through the gates of Redwall.


    ¡°Kirk¡¯s got the unloading handled,¡± Annie snapped, ¡°and we were only required to <i>provide</i> the beer, not serve it. It¡¯ll be <i>fine</i>, now stop hyperventting, you¡¯re making <i>me</i> anxious!¡±


    We barely arrived with a half-hour to spare. The colosseum was an almost picture-for-picture copy of the colosseum in Rome, though a lot longer and taller; it was nearly as tall as the church in Minnova! The noiseing from it was practically palpable as the crowd cheered at whatever pre-event show was on.


    A massive line snaked down the street. I had no idea if our patrons would make it in, but we could hope!


    A series of carts outside the building were selling food. I realized with surprise that they all had ¡®Smug Snapper¡¯ emzoned on the side.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the restaurant that Bran¡¯speting against?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± Annie frowned. ¡°<i>We</i> should have thought of that.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been a bit busy. And I don¡¯t think Bran would¡¯ve had time. He¡¯s been swamped just making enough food for the Goat.¡±


    ¡°So is that a good or a bad sign?¡± Aqua asked. ¡°Are they desperate?¡±


    ¡°Who knows. Johnsson, go get us some.¡±


    Johnsson dashed off with an ¡°Aye, aye!¡±


    ¡°The Thirsty Goat is here.¡± Annie gasped as we sprinted up to the guards at a separate service entrance. ¡°I¡¯m Annie Goldstone.¡±


    The pair of guards looked us over, asked for ID, and then waved us through. ¡°Your beers arrive just fine. Head in and take the tunnel to the left and go to the beer cer.¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Thank you. One of our workers, Johnsson, will be along in a minute.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll let him in.¡±


    We bustled into the bowels of the building, following a tunnel that snaked off to the left until we came to a short, but wide, open room. Barrels upon barrels of brew were stacked up to the walls while brown-armored attendants carted them out. On one wall, Kirk was talking to a very, <i>very</i>, short dwarfess while Penelope moped about on a leash beside him.


    We walked over to join them. ¡°Any problems Kirk?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Hullo Boss! Nope! With that new [Homogenous Hauler] Ability, I¡¯m real good at carting a lot of one thing in my dimensional storage. Between Penelope and me it was easy, peasy!¡±


    A bright voice piped up, ¡°Ah, are you the Thirsty Goat? Nice to meet you, I¡¯m Lapis Carrotson of Brazen Bull Brewing. Nice to meet you!¡±


    I peered down at the dwarfess standing next to Kirk and did a double take. She was wearing a set of studded leather, and had a long brown beard in the traditional style with mousy brown pigtails. Arge iron helmet sat a little toorge on her head, forcing her to squint up and me it.


    But the body beneath all the armor and the pasted-on beard was clearly¡­ a gnomess.


    ¡°Ummm¡­¡± I said, my tone curious. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m Peter Roughtuff, this is Annie Goldstone. The rest of this lot were <i>just leaving to get us seats!</i> You say, <i>you¡¯re </i>the Master Brewer from Brazen Bull Brewing?¡±


    Aqua, Richter, and Kirk headed out, grumbling as they went.


    Lapis watched them go, then nodded. ¡°Aye, that I am!¡±


    Her ent was very close to Crackian standard, without the more measured tone of most gnomes. I gave Kirk a intive look and he blinked innocently.


    ¡°Excuse me, I have to ask.¡± Annie said, staring at Lapis with open shock. ¡°Are you <i>really</i> a Master Brewer?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course!¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    Lapis smiled. ¡°Ah, you must be wonderin¡¯ about this.¡± She gestured down at all of her. ¡°I¡¯m a self identifying dwarf.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that exins that, then.¡± I nodded. ¡°Fair enough. Are you ready to lose this contest?¡±


    Lapis tittered. ¡°Only if you think you¡¯re dwarf enough for it!¡±


    Annie held up her hand in a stopping gesture. ¡°No! Hold it! You¡¯re a gnomess. How are you a Master Brewer?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite rude, Annie.¡± I said, giving her the stink eye. ¡°She''s a dwarf.¡±


    ¡°But¡­!?¡±


    Lapis sighed. ¡°I married into tha Carrotson n, and started helpin¡¯ me husband with his Brewin¡¯. I¡¯m an [Engineer], and my technical knowhow really made a difference with tha quality of tha brew. The Ordinances are very clear that only dwarves can be Brewers, but are¡­ shall we say, <ix</i> when ites ta the exact definition of a dwarf. I suspect the Council considered it self-evident, but I was able to argue to the Guild in Boma that a dwarf was a matter of <i>who</i> we were, rather than <i>what</i> we were. They said that I may¡®ve already been a dwarf at some point anyway, and did¡¯nae seem concerned that many would copy me.¡±


    ¡°Clever.¡± I mused. ¡°We should have tried that with Copperpot.¡±


    ¡°He never would¡¯ve done it.¡± Annie shook her head. ¡°I agree that most gnomes wouldn¡¯t want to run around being dwarves. Sorry for, um, being insensitive.¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Lapis smiled. ¡°I get it all the time.¡±


    Johnsson arrived at this point, carrying a dozen sticks, each spearing through a trio of golden yellow orbs. ¡°Got ¡®em,¡± he announced. ¡°Just as we guessed it would be, it¡¯s fish.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Imagine that. What is it?¡±


    ¡°Erdroot battered fried fish balls.¡± Johnsson said, passing them around. ¡°Where¡¯s everyone else?¡±


    ¡°Upstairs already.¡± Annie answered, eyeing the fish balls with a glint of hunger. ¡°Go join them. Our seats are in zone 43. Would you like one, Lapis?¡±


    The tiny dwarfess nodded. ¡°Yes, please!¡±


    ¡°Are those all yours?¡± I asked, pointing to some barrels up against a wall. They all had a picture of a bull emzoned on the side.


    ¡°They are!¡± Lapis nodded.


    ¡°Can I try?¡±


    ¡°Only if you let me try yours! That giant of yers was keepin¡¯ me from it!¡±


    I pulled my own personal Whistlemug out with [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], and poured some of her beer from a nearby keg. She did the same with ours then waited for Annie to pull some for herself.


    ¡°Let¡¯s try these first.¡± Annie said, holding up her fish balls.


    With that, we each took a bite. They were perfectly crisped on the outside, with a thick outer shell of breading. The sauce on them was savory, and itplimented the slightly sweet taste of the breading perfectly. The fish inside was shredded and had a somewhat rubbery texture thatplimented the ky feeling of the breading perfectly. It reminded me quite a lot of a Japanese takoyaki, but deep fried instead of baked.


    ¡°I like it, but I think Bran¡¯s going to win.¡± Annie said with her mouth full. Then took another bite. ¡°It¡¯s really good though.¡±


    ¡°Delicious¡­¡± Lapis sighed, tipping her head and resting a cheek on her palm. She closed her eyes and munched contentedly.


    ¡°I agree, Annie. It¡¯s good, but it¡¯s not poutine.¡± I was pretty sure Bran had it in the bag. Voting for the cooking contest started right after the drinking contest ended, so this had to be a desperatest ditch attempt from the <i>Snapper </i>to drum up votes.


    I held up my mug.


    ¡°Here¡¯s to a good contest! May the best brewery win!¡±


    ¡°Fer Crack and Kinshasa!¡± Lapis added, and we all tipped our heads back and drank.


    Brazen Bull¡¯s beer tasted¡­ identical to ourpetition entry.


    <i>Literally</i> identical.


    ¡°This is our CPA!¡± Annie said with a start, nailing Lapis with an angry eye. ¡°How??¡±


    Lapis gave a smug grin. ¡°Master Brewer Schist was required to present his method for making a beer that was ¡®always spicier than the spiceist thing you¡¯ve ever tasted. Those records are avable at the Guild.¡±


    ¡°I knew that.¡± I frowned. ¡°Richter was making a fuss over it. But I¡¯ve been too busy to really look over it.¡±


    ¡°I adapted his method to make a beer that ¡®tastes like thest beer you tasted¡¯.¡± Lapis¡¯s grin somehow grew wider. ¡°So it tastes like <i>every other beer</i> in Crack. It¡¯s hellishly expensive to make, we lost <i>so much Gold</i>, but it will all be worth it. Yer beer is¡­ interesting? I¡¯ve never had anything like it! I dunno how well it¡¯ll fly! Can you imagine the look on those high nobles¡¯ faces when <i>I</i> get made a Lady? Hah!!¡±


    Annie and I gave each other worried looks as Lapis¡¯sughter echoed through the tunnels beneath the stadium.


    We still had this in the bag¡­ right?

 Book 3: Chapter 78: The Kinshasa Drinking Contest

    <h4>Book 3: Chapter 78: The Kinshasa Drinking Contest</h4>


    We walked up to join everyone in a ck mood. I was especially grumpy. A beer that copies other beers? What kind of brewing was that!? Where was the soul!? The heart of a brewer!? Bah!


    But at the same time I could see where Lapis wasing from. A beer that was capable of being every beer in Crack absolutely could count as representing the country. Imagine being far from home, and wanting the taste of your local brewery. Just hop over to the liquor store and get Brazen¡¯s Bull¡¯stest <i>bull</i> and it¡¯ll be just like home. So long as you didn¡¯t drink any other beer first.


    At the same time, it was a bit of a cop out. And it all came down to the opinion of one dwarf; the King.


    ¡°You two look dour.¡± Aqua said as we walked up to join them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell youter.¡± Annie muttered as we took our seats. We weren¡¯t quite in the nosebleed section, but we were pretty high up, and I felt my dwarven vertigo setting in. The arena was jam-packed, full of signs and banners, variously cheering their respective drinkers on, or decrying this sacrilege to the sacred brew.


    There were significantly fewer of those than thest time I¡¯d been at a drinking contest, I noted with approval, and none of them were ck-robed Master Brewers.


    The arena was sand, just like Minnova, but this time there were thirty-two <i>huge</i> barrels lined up down the middle. Each had an adjoining table with a long line of Whistlemugs. Brown armored attendants were dumping kegs of beer into the barrels as quickly as they could, and I couldn¡¯t help but wince. Pouring it early like that would tten the beer and make it taste worse.


    Then again, t beer for a drinking contest wasn¡¯t a <i>bad</i> n.


    ¡°What beer¡¯re they usin¡¯?¡± I asked. ¡°Did ya hear, Kirk?¡±


    Kirk nodded. ¡°Aye. It¡¯s Riverside Ale True Brew. They bought up all thest of it, since Schist isn¡¯t allowed to brew any for another century.¡±


    ¡°Feel a little bad about that.¡± Aqua murmured, looking out over the crowd.


    ¡°Eh, he¡¯s fine with it.¡± I said, craning my neck. ¡°Where¡¯s tha King?¡±


    ¡°The royal stand is over there. The King hasn¡¯t arrived yet, but the Dukes were seated a little while ago. That was what all the cheering was about.¡± Johnsson pointed to an enormous gazebo on the bottom row, right at the arena¡¯s edge. Arge ornate throne nked by four chairs sat inside, with amanding view of the space. pping above the gazebo were the Kinshasa g, which was a blue river on a white field, and the Crack g, which was a stylized golden mountain on a red field, with a big ¡®crack¡¯ running through the mountain.


    Three dwarves were already sitting inside. One was a buff looking Dwarfess in mithril te armor. She had eschewed headwear, instead choosing to pile her tinum hair on top of her head in an impressive nest of golden thread and gemstones. Her beard was in a dutch style, with gems affixed artistically inside it. That was Lady Barnes, who I recognized from my short time with her. The other two could¡¯ve been twins, each with shock white braided hair and beards. One wore a leather gambeson with golden filigree, and was fiddling with his war-axe with a stormy expression. The other wore a ck breastte and chainmail with a manticore rampant emzoned on the front, and was sitting in his chair looking bored.


    The throne, and the final chair, which had a symbol of crossed axes with a beard carved into the backrest, sat empty.


    Johnsson pointed at the chair. ¡°That''s Tourmaline''s mum in Duke Barnes''s seat! And Duke ckbeard¡¯s chair is empty! Mcshave was right, somethin¡¯ big is goin¡¯ on!¡±


    We were interrupted from any furtherment as bagpipes roared and the brown figures in the sands below scattered back into the tunnels.


    With pomp and circumstance a massive marching band of pipes and drums filtered into the arena. They circled in circles ying the Crack national anthem. As one, all the people in the arena rose to their feet and ced their hands over their hearts. Unlike the Minnova anthem, the Crack anthem had no words, moving the listener simply through the sheer majesty of it. It reminded me quite a bit of Loch Lomond back when I¡¯dst heard it at the Hignd Games. The shape of the arena reflected and amplified the sound up to the roof of Crack, where it doubtless bounced back to cover the entirety of the city. Beside me, Balin swept away a tear with his free hand.


    The songsted about 10 minutes. As thest strains of the bagpipes echoed out, an announcer walked out to the center of the arena and spoke with [Project Voice].


    ¡°Citizens of Kinsahsa! Thank you foring to this, the Octamillenial Drinking and Brewing Contest! Today we will see the greatest lovers of the brew in all of Crackpete to see who can drink the most, and then the King himself will stand as judge to decide the greatest brewer in our beloved country!¡±


    The audience cheered and cat-called. The announcer waited for the sound to die down, then shouted, ¡°And now, please join me in weing the drinking contestants!¡±


    A set of gates on one end of the arena opened, and an eclectic group walked out into the arena. They were mostly dwarves, but I saw a couple gnomes and a single human among them. They wore a solid mix of clothing, everything from full armor to basic linens, but each also had a tabard with the g of their city emzoned on it.


    ¡°Ahhh!!! There¡¯s Rumbob!!!¡± Aqua screamed. ¡°Kirk, help me with this!¡±


    So saying she jumped up onto a protesting Richter¡¯s head and lifted one side of an enormous banner that said ¡®Rum Tum Rumbob¡¯ on it. Kirk obligingly lifted the other side with an apologetic nod at a swearing Richter.


    ¡°RUMBOB!!!!¡± Johnsson called, waving. The contestants all swiveled their heads about as they walked, looking for friends and family. We could tell when Rumbob spotted us by his cheery wave. He was wearing some simplefortable linens with a tabard of Minnova''s spreading tree.


    Each of the contestants was led to one of the giant kegs and seated in front of the table. When they were all set, the announcer came back on.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to start by exining how all these fine folk came to be here! If you missed the first round of the drinking contest, the format was as follows ¨C ¡°


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    He thenunched into a description of the first round of the Barck Beer Brawl. I smiled in fond remembrance. That brawl had been the start of, well, everything. It was how we¡¯d saved the Goat from bankruptcy, and gotten enough attention to start making sales again.


    When he was done with the description, the announcer began introducing every one of the contestants in turn. Various sections of the stands cheered as they were announced, some more or less than others. Fully <i>half</i> the stands erupted when the contestant from Kinshasa, one Shawn Willsson was announced. Byparison, the single human, a contestant from the city of Goma, barely got any cheering at all.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Goma?¡± I asked Richter.


    ¡°Pretty far east.¡± He whispered back. ¡°I¡¯m surprised he came so far. He¡¯s probably a [Discer].¡±


    ¡°Psh. Ovend or oversea is the only real way to travel.¡± Kirk scoffed. ¡°By boot or brig, that¡¯s my motto!¡±


    ¡°I thought your motto was Kirk Manly, Action Adventurer.¡± I said, arcing an eyebrow.


    ¡°That too.¡±


    ¡°Want to know my motto?¡±


    ¡°No, what is it?¡±


    ¡°What''s what?¡± I replied, innocently.


    Kirk blinked. ¡°Uh, the motto?¡±


    ¡°Dunno, what¡¯s tha motto with you?¡±


    Everyone smiled and nodded, though Kirk cracked augh.


    ¡°The first round of drinking is a speed round!¡± The announcer continued as he finished introducing the final contestant, a tall gnomess named Kattie Hannah. ¡°Contestants will have one minute to drink one of the beers in their flight! Then we¡¯ll take a one minute break before halving the time to drink the next one, and then continue halving! If a contestant fails to drink their beer within the time limit, they¡¯re out!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a flight, Pete?¡± Aqua asked.


    ¡°That line of beers.¡± I pointed at the line of Whistlemugs. ¡°Though a flight would usually be a series of smaller sses, usually three or four ounces. They¡¯re a way of trying lots of different beers at a Brewery.¡±


    The crowd broke into excited chatters. Unless they¡¯d been to the beer brawl, most of them had probably never seen someone speed drinking. Down below, Rumbob rotated his arm in its socket and cracked his neck. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out an oblong shape. He stuffed it into his mouth and began chewing.


    ¡°HE HAS BUTTER!!!!¡± I shrieked, pointing at him. ¡°YEAHHH RUM TUM RUMBOB!¡±


    ¡°Gods, its spreading¡­?¡± Annie grumbled with disgust.


    The announcer waited for silence, then continued. ¡°After the first round, we have a small show for you provided by the Brewer¡¯s Guild. After that will be a volume contest! Contestants will need toplete one beer a minute for as long as they can! We know some of them are <i>big</i> drinkers, and Abilities <i>are </i>allowed. Thankfully ¨C ¡° The announcer walked up to and patted one of the enormous barrels. ¡°We¡¯ve got more than enough beer for even the greatest of drinkers!¡±


    The crowd dutifullyughed.


    ¡°What about, like, an extradimensional stomach?¡± I whispered to Richter. ¡°Would that be cheating?


    ¡°Those have limits. That¡¯s why those barrels are so <i>big</i>.¡± He answered.


    ¡°Following the drinking contest, we¡¯ll be joined by the King as he judges the Brewers that provided the beer you see being sold here today! Now, please join me in counting down for the first round!¡± The announcer held up his hands to show ten fingers. ¡°Ten!¡±


    The crowd joined in as a joyous noise. ¡°Nine!¡±


    ¡°Eight!¡±


    ¡°Seven!¡±


    ¡°Six!¡±


    ¡°Five!¡±


    ¡°Four!¡±


    ¡°Three!¡±


    ¡°Two!¡±


    ¡°One!¡±


    There was a thump as magicunched into the sky and erupted into cracklings of lightning over the arena. The contestants all began drinking, and the crowd cackled with glee as one of them immediately choked on his first drink and threw up from the sheer stress of the moment.


    Rumbobpleted his handily, and sat waiting as the gong rang to announce the next beer.


    ¡°Oh no! It looks like the contestant from Boma is out! At least they¡¯re still in the running for best Brewery!¡± The announcer chuckled.


    The beers began to fly faster and faster as the gongs came closer and closer together. Some of the drinkers began shouting out Abilities, while others activated theirs silently, and one by one the losers were eliminated.


    It was a fun show, with the crowd cheering, booing, and generally having a marvelous time. I spotted a hawker walking through the crowd selling beers and called them over. They had exactly two vours, ours and Brazen Bull¡¯s.


    ¡°One mug of the CPA please!¡± I called, paying for the overpriced bottle.


    ¡°We have plenty, and it¡¯s <i>our beer</i>, why would you pay for that??¡± Aqua asked, bemused.


    ¡°Arena beer tastes different. Everyone knows that. It¡¯s so much sweeter because you pay so much for it.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    Soon enough, the speed round ended. Rumbob raised his hands in victory alongside another fifteen contestants. The arena erupted with various anthems and magical effects as the fans cheered for their hometown.


    ¡°Thank you contestants!¡± The arena master came back to center stage. ¡°We¡¯ll now be taking a short break! Please wee the Wonderous Wizards as they perform a spectacle of magic and music!


    A trio of dwarves in mages robes walked forward, each of them carrying a staff. I¡¯d assumed at first they were for casting the spells, but then one of the three spoke into it and his voice boomed over general noise.


    ¡°HEY THERE KINSHASA! ARE YOU READY FOR THIS!?¡±


    The lead then began singing. It was a song about, of course, gold; and the love thereof. Then the three broke into aplex dance routine that ended with a shower of electrical sparks.


    ¡°Is that Berry¡¯s music magic?¡± I asked Richter. ¡°My Manasight can¡¯t see that far.¡±


    Richter nodded. ¡°Aye, it is! I am happy it''s spreading!


    The wizards did their show while the tables were cleaned of spilled beer and fresh mugsid out. When everyone was done, which took about another half an hour, the announcer came back out and waved for attention.


    ¡°Thank you to our performers for that incredible show, and the Brewer¡¯s Guild for financing it! Now, before we begin the final round, could you please join me in weing The Great Wolf of the West, yer of the Brindlewyrm, High Lord of the Glittering Caves, Master of the Mountains of Mourning, his Royal Majesty, King Carl!


    The arena rose to their feet and cried as one. ¡°For Crack! For the King! For Carl!¡±


    At the same time, I received a prompt.


    *Bing!*


    <strong>Quest: Kill the King!</strong>


    <i>Kill the King. of the dwarves!</i><i></i>


    <i>King of Dwarves in: 0/1</i>


    <i><strong>Rewards: </strong>[Unstoppable], Deific Intervention x 1</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I gaped at the prompt, beer dribbling out of my open mouth and down my beard. <i>WHAT!?</i>

 Book 3: Chapter 79: The King of Crack

    The King was, as could be expected in a world with literal magic and special Abilities, as impressive as could be expected. The absolute weirdest part was that I could <i>feel</i> the King arrive before I saw him. There was a palpable¡­ energy? Gravitas? <i>Something</i>, that swept through the arena the moment before the King entered. I meant that literally, as grains of sand stirred down on the arena floor.


    He strode out into the Royal Box to massive apuse as the three Dukes rose to their feet and sped their hands in front of their chests. He was dressed in shimmeringyers of te armor, withicallyrge pauldrons shaped life wolf heads. Lightning arced around him with each step, the ionized crackle audible even over the shouting of the crowd. He wore a wolf¡¯s pelt cape, and had an enormous greatsword in a scabbard strapped beneath it. His beard was knotted with care in aplex weave all the way down to his ankles, and he wore a helmet straight out of the Lord of the Rings that covered most of his face.


    His every move spoke of power, of max stats in all attributes, of a dwarf that could kill everyone in this arena if he so felt.


    The crowd continued to cheer as he entered.


    ¡°FOR CARL!¡±


    ¡°FOR CARL!¡±


    ¡°FOR CARL!¡±


    Then the King raised his hand, and the crowd was silenced.


    Not ¡®grew silent¡¯. <i>Was silenced</i>. Every mouth in the arena <i>snapped</i> shut with a *ck*


    *Bing!*


    <strong><i>Milestone Used</i></strong><strong><i></i></strong>


    <i>[Unbending] has prevented [Royal Command].</i>


    ¡°Good people of Kinshasa,¡± The King said, his voice prating into my skull just as the Lord of Minnova¡¯s had. He had a warm tenor, rather than the deep bass I had expected. It was strong and clear, every word cleanly enunciated. ¡°And Our subjects from afar. Thank you for attending this, Our proud country¡¯s Octamillenial. Eight thousand years of history are no small feat, and We have no doubt we shall see eight thousand more! For Crack!¡±


    The arena practically burst at the seams. ¡°FOR CRACK!¡±


    ¡°We take great pride in the works We have seen presented thus far, of the skill of arms and the <i>heart</i> on disy. We know many in this arena havepeted, or are kin to those who worked themselves to the bone to see this year a sess. We wish you to know that WE SEE YOU!¡± He roared thest, raising his fist into the air. ¡°We see you, so know that you have pleased Us! Oh you of rock and stone,y your bones beneath the Erd, knowing that your children''s children will sing your praises! So sayeth I, King of Crack!!!¡±


    The crowd roared and surged to their feet.


    ¡°Let the festivities resume!¡± With that, the King sank back into his throne.


    I registered the event with a passing curiosity, because I was still staring at the prompt I¡¯d received a moment before.


    Kill the King?


    <i>EXCUSE YOU</i>!?


    I nced at the absolute <i>monster</i> in the royal box, and a bead of sweat trickled down my back as he looked directly back at me. No, that <i>had</i> to be an illusion, or an Ability that made it look like he was always looking at you. There¡¯s no way he was eyeing <i>me</i> in particr in this massive crowd.


    I turned back to look at the prompt which was in a different font than usual. I still had a ¡®true love¡¯ quest kicking around from whom I had to assume was Yearn. This new quest gave something as incredible sounding as [Unstoppable] as a reward, so¡­ was it from the God of Freedom, Solen? That tracked, since he was also the God of Chaos.


    Still, I had zero interest in ruining my life here. I went and hit ¡®No¡¯ as the announcer came back. ¡°Now, please wee back our final drinkers! I hope they¡¯re thirsty, because we have over five hundred liters of beer for them to drink!¡±


    ¡°t beer,¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°I see Rumbob!!!¡± Aqua shouted, raising the sign again. We all hopped to our feet and hooted and hollered as the Santa lookalike entered the arena. He had on his trademark cheery smile, and he waved at us as he took his spot next to one of the giant barrels.


    The announcer waited for the apuse to die before continuing. ¡°In case you need a reminder! For this round, the contestants will need to drink one beer every minute! If they¡¯re unable to finish their beer in that time, they will be eliminated! They will continue drinking until only onepetitor is left! Are you all ready?¡±


    The contestants answered with a bevy of shouted drinking Abilities.


    ¡°Then, begin!¡±


    And they were off! It wasn¡¯t so much a speed round as an endurance round, so thepetitors took their time, calmly drinking each mug in turn, and then starting on the next as the gongs rang the time. There were no early eliminations this round, and the crowd grew more and more electric as the number of mugs passed five, then ten.


    The first to fall tipped over and threw up all over the arena. He was quickly carted off by a pair of attendants, while the announcer called his name. ¡°That was Madix Maceson! It looks like he can¡¯t handle the alcohol!¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the vition.


    The crowd catcalled andughed as he was carted away.


    Soon the second fell, then the third.


    Rumbob was still going strong, as was the human contestant from Goma, and Willsson, the contestant from Kinsahsa. The other few were beginning to g, and one by one they dropped out, either physically or by stepping away from the table.


    Then, as a gasp of horror spread rapidly through the arena, Willsson slowly toppled to the ground, leaving only Rumbob and the giant, who we¡¯d learned was named Justin.


    ¡°I cannae believe it.¡± Johnsson said in hushed tones. ¡°A <i>human</i> might win the Sacred Brew drinking contest¡­¡±


    ¡°I can believe it.¡± Kirk said brightly. ¡°We have bigger stomachs and a higher alcohol tolerance. Honestly, I¡¯m surprised there aren¡¯t <i>more</i> humanspeting in this.¡±


    Aqua had jumped to her feet to wave her g a while ago, and she began screaming at the top of her lungs. ¡°RUMTUMRUMBOB! RUMTUMRUMBOB!¡±


    Rumbob had begun to slow down, but as the arena began to cheer for him and Justin he redoubled his efforts. At one point, the announcer stopped the count and spoke briefly to the two, then resumed the contest at double the pace. As the gongs continued, one after another, the cheering turned into silent awe. The truck-sized barrels beside each of them had begun to empty, drop by drop.


    ¡°How long ¡®ave they been goin¡¯?¡± Balin whispered at one point.


    ¡°Nearly two hours.¡± Aqua whispered. ¡°They must¡¯ve drunk at least a couple hundred liters of beer by now.¡±


    ¡°And I tried to <ipete</i> with that.¡± I choked. ¡°I¡¯m amazed I did as well as I did!¡±


    ¡°Ach, that bastard! He must¡¯ve been going easy on us whenever we yed Coins!¡± Richter fumed.


    Suddenly, a tremor ran through the crowd as Justin choked on his beer. He coughed, spluttered, recentered himself, took another sip, then copsed on the table with a groan.


    Rumbob finished his mug, then stood and raised his fist in victory.


    The crowd went wild.


    The announcer ran forward and caught Rumbob as the rotund dwarf staggered on his feet. ¡°Congrattions to our winner, and the greatest drinker in all of Kinshasa! <i>Rumbob Bejornsson</i>! Do you have anything to say?¡±


    Rumbob gasped, then spoke. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t seem to have [Project Voice], but the announcer repeated it for him with an incredulous look. ¡°Ho Ho Ho?¡±


    Rumbob nodded, then copsed.


    The Thirsty Goat broke into guffaws that spread through the crowd.


    And then pping erupted from the royal box as the King joined in. The two white haired Dukes sitting beside him were white-knuckled and nervous, but Lady Barnes seemed pleased.


    The King stood and the crowd grew silent as it became clear that he was about to speak.


    ¡°An excellent show of skill and love of the Brew! And good sportsmanship besides! We congratte you Rumbob Bejornsson, for you have made your Ancestors proud! Is he awake? Can he hear Us? No? No matter, We¡¯ll reward himter. We must say, We haven¡¯t seen such a good show since Our hitball days, isn¡¯t that right, Iris?¡±


    Lady Barnes tilted her head. ¡°As you say, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Well, that went on for quite awhile, and Our back isn¡¯t what it used to be. It¡¯s this darned old age! It¡¯s getting time for Us to pass the throne to the next generation!¡±


    ¡°As you say.¡± Lady Barnes tipped her head.


    ¡°Mmm¡­. We <i>do </i>say, and We¡¯re the <i>King!</i>¡± The King said. ¡°But none of that, we¡¯re at a contest, so let¡¯s begin the next event! We understand there¡¯s something to drink around here?¡±


    The King held his hand to his forehead and swept his gaze over the multiple giant barrels of beer and shook his head. ¡°No, We don¡¯t see anything. Where is the Guildmaster of the Brewer¡¯s Guild? We would speak with her about this shamefulck of our most Sacred Brew!¡±


    Right on cue, Guildmaster Monk of the Kinshasa Brewer¡¯s Guild walked into the Arena from the tunnels below.


    With <i>Master Schist </i>beside her!


    The pair walked in stoically, each carrying a single bottle of beer. Guildmaster Monk was carrying the bottle from Brazen Bull Brewing, while Schist carried ours.


    When they were standing beneath the royal box, Guildmaster Monk spoke in hermanding alto.


    ¡°Your Majesty! I present to you the craft of the two finest breweries in Crack, and seek your counsel to determine which is deserving of the title of the greatest in your Kingdom.¡±


    The King cracked augh. ¡°What, and you aren¡¯t one of them Schist? What a surprise! We were so certain you¡¯d win that We bet Lord Harald a mithril crown!¡±


    Schist¡¯s face was impossible to see from our angle, but I could feel him smile. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not Your Majesty, like you said, perhaps it was time for me to step back and let the next generation take over.¡±


    ¡°Pfah,¡± the King actually <i>scoffed</i>. ¡°You were <i>deposed</i>. It¡¯s not the same at <i>all</i>.¡±


    Schist bent his head. ¡°As you say, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°And now We hear that We won¡¯t be able to drink your beer anymore? What is this nonsense, Guildmaster Monk? Why has Our favourite Brewer been spending his days bothering me about a slip of paper, and not brewing as he should be?¡±


    Monk lowered her head. ¡°Master Schist broke some of our most sacred Ordinances, Your Majesty. It was necessary for order.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, I¡¯ve got some stuffing up that I know you¡¯ll love.¡± Schist quickly followed.


    The King nodded. ¡°Good. See to it. And you owe Us a mithril crown.¡±


    ¡°As you say, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, as I say.¡± The king waved his hand dismissively and Schist stepped back. ¡°Now, bring Us the beers of the upstarts that defeated my loyal subject. Actually, no, hold. I would have them do it themselves. Masters of the Thirsty Goat and Brazen Bull Brewing. [I Summon Thee]!¡±


    I had just enough time to share a horrified nce with Annie when I felt an invisible hook grab my spine just below my navel, and I was yanked through <i>space itself</i> to arrive directly in front of the royal box. Beside me, Annie heaved a breath and barely kept from throwing up. Master Lapis stood simrly disoriented beside us alongside her husband, a short fellow with a ck beard practically as wide and tall as he was.


    The King practically <i>loomed</i> over us from on high. ¡°Good dwarves, We appreciate you heeding Our summons! Now, present to us the fruit of your craft and exin it to Us, that we may whet Our bloody thirst!¡±


    Wordlessly, Schist dumped a bottle in my hands and pushed me forward. Malt did the same to Lapis.


    Cool! I was going to meet the King of the Dwarves!


    Who one of the Gods had just told me to kill.


    Cool, cool, cool.


    Cool.

 Book 3: Chapter 80: Proclamation

    The four of us, brewers all, walked in lockstep towards the Royal Box. The King beamed down at us when we stopped a respectful distance away, his pleasure evident.


    I felt my knees grow weak, and arms go heavy, and beside me Lapis actually stopped and quivered. So <i>this</i> is what max mortal Charisma felt like! It was nothing to the absolute fear and awe I¡¯d felt looking at Barck. It wasn¡¯t anything so trite as mind control, and I¡¯d felt simr when talking to powerful CEOs and businesspeople when they¡¯de to visit the winery. So, I steeled my will and hooked my arm through Lapis¡¯s, practically dragging her along.


    The King watched us with amusement, his mouth ticking up on one side.


    ¡°You may approach Us.¡± He said. ¡°Speak your ns that they may be heard and recognized.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Brewer Peter Roughtuff, Yer Majesty.¡± I did my best to nail those capital letters, but dang it was hard.


    ¡°Carrotson.¡± Lapis squeaked.


    The King looked her up and down once, then continued as though he hadn¡¯t noticed a thing. ¡°You stand before me as the two greatest Brewers in Our country. Is this true?¡±


    ¡°Y - Y-¡± Lapis attempted.


    I took a step forward. ¡°We can nae im that so easily, Yer Majesty. We may have performed tha best in this contest, but there could be a better Brewer somewhere out there. Because aren¡¯t the greatest craftsdwarves on Erd held here within our borders?¡±


    The King¡¯s eyebrow raised ever so slightly. ¡°Brewer Roughtuff. We have heard of you. Know that you have pleased Us.¡±


    I flinched and nced at Lady Barnes. She beamed down at me. There was some confused muttering from the crowd and Lapis gave me an usatory re. I returned an apologetic shrug. I wasn¡¯t influencing the judge on <i>purpose</i>.


    ¡°But, that is that, and this is this. We shall remain impartial in Our judging. Guildmaster Malt, let Us taste the hard work of Our Master Brewers - which are We meant to imbibe first?¡±


    ¡°Neither contestant is a Master Brewer, Yer Majesty, but Brewer Carrotson holds seniority.¡± Monk said, her tone chilly.


    The King frowned. ¡°Not a single Master Brewer made it to the finals? The quality of the Guilds is slipping.¡±


    He snapped his fingers and the announcer appeared at Lapis¡¯s side. He gingerly took the bottle from her and walked up a nearby stairwell to the King.


    ¡°As you say, Your Majesty.¡± Monk snipped. Whoof, if tones could bite!


    ¡°Is this why you suddenly opened brewing to the popce?¡± The King asked, as he took Lapis¡¯s bottle from the announcer and examined it.


    ¡°In part, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­.¡± The King gripped the neck of the bottle and popped off the top with a deft motion. Not popped the cork, no, he simply snapped the top off at the neck. Beer immediately fizzed up and down the bottle, spilling over his knuckles and to the ground. The King watched the beer drip down with amusement. ¡°I do like these bottles.¡±


    Saying so, he raised the broken bottle to his lips and drank while it was still fizzing.


    Lapis and the rest of the arena held their breath as the King drank. He paused halfway through and looked quizzically at the bottle, then resumed drinking. When he was done the whole bottle, he wiped his arm across his beard and then flicked his hand to dry it. ¡°Interesting. Can you exin how this beer represents Crack?¡±


    ¡°Yes your Majesty.¡± Lapis stepped forward and repeated the spiel she¡¯d given me in the basement. ¡°This beer has been enchanted to taste just like thest beer you tasted. No matter where you live in Crack, it will have the unique taste of your local breweries. A dwarf could buy a Brazen Bull Memory Brew in Kinshasa and would taste identical to his favourite from back home even if that was as far East as Gemena.¡±


    ¡°Ah. So that¡¯s why it tastes like that.¡± The King nodded. ¡°We can feel your sincerity in the quality and theme of this Sacred Brew. You are a dwarf after Our own heart, and Crack appreciates your contribution.¡±


    Lapis looked like she would faint. ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty.¡±


    The King ced the bottle on his armrest, and turned his steely gaze on me. ¡°You are dismissed, Brewer Carrotson. Brewer Roughtuff, you may approach the Royal Throne.¡±


    The announcer wordlessly took my bottle and walked it up to the box. I hesitantly stepped forward as Lapis shrank back. For all her terror, she had a gleam of smug victory reflected in her eyes. Well, we¡¯d see about <i>that</i>.


    I bowed at the waist. ¡°Your Majesty, I present to you the Crack Pale Ale.¡±


    ¡°Indeed? And what makes you think that your Sacred Brew is worthy enough to hold the name of our Country?¡± The King asked, his voice growing dangerous.


    I gulped. I <i>hadn¡¯t</i> thought. I desperately ran through my memories trying to remember if naming something after the country was against any Ordinances, but kepting up nk. Prevaricate Pete, prevaricate!


    I licked my lips. ¡°The brewing process for this particr beer grants it a greatly improved shelf life. That bottle in your hands can survive almost an entire year in transit before it goes bad. Making it the only brew that can be shipped to every corner of the Kingdom.¡±


    Behind me, Monk and Schist gasped, and Lapis drew in a breath.


    The King stroked his beard. ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°Furthermore, it¡¯s made using barley instead of Erdroot, which means that even those living on the surface can make it.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°Like our South Erden cousins.¡± The King mused.


    I steeled myself for my next line. ¡°Or¡­ humans and elves.¡±


    There was confused chattering in the crowd, and scattered shouts of outrage. The King swept his gaze over the stands and there was immediate silence.


    Then he turned that gaze on me.


    I half expected to see a notification telling me I¡¯d been ¡®feared¡¯ or something, but I felt only that same pressure from earlier.


    ¡°You would allow humans and elves to make our Sacred Brew?¡± He asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± I took a deep breath, ¡°This beer <i>isn¡¯t</i> Sacred Brew, Your Majesty. I¡¯m not <i>allowed</i> to call it that. It¡¯s <i>beer</i>, and it''s the first of its kind that was made for all races.¡±


    ¡°For all races¡­¡± The King mused staring into our bottle. ¡°For all Our Subjects, big and small.¡±


    So saying, he twisted the top of the bottle off, as he had Brazen Bull¡¯s, and drank. He didn¡¯t pause partway through this time, but sipped it slowly, appreciating every mouthful. When he was done, he put the bottle down with a *clunk* on his armrest.


    He stared at it for a while, then turned to regard me.


    ¡°We don¡¯t like the taste.¡±


    ¡­ Fuck.


    ¡°You are dismissed.¡± The King waved me away, and I stepped backwards to rejoin the line of Brewers. Annie was white-faced, while Lapis and her husband looked downright jubnt.


    The King sat and stared at us for a while, the silence stretching ufortably. The announcer went up and held a whispered conversation with him, then nodded and came back down without a word. As the silence stretched, the two white-haired Dukes beside him began to fidget ufortably as sweat ran down their faces.


    Interesting. Why were <i>they</i> so nervous?


    When the King spoke, I almost jumped out of my skin.


    ¡°We have heard much these past few months. Of Masters and Apprentices, of Gnomes and Dwarves. Of Citizens and Nobles. Of East and West.¡±


    One of the Dukes began to speak. ¡°Your Maj ¨C¡±


    The King nailed him with a gaze so filled with rage that I felt singed from the opposite direction. He stood and walked forward to lean over the parapet, looking around the Arena.


    ¡°Though this is a celebration of the Sacred Brew of the dwarves, We see many gnomes in the audience. If Our eyes did not deceive Us, a giant nearly proved himself the greatest drinker in Our country.¡±


    There was cheering, catcalling, and a single boo, which transformed into a scream as the offending dwarf was tossed out of the Colosseum.


    ¡°And now this brewery brings Us a beer they say is for <i>all our people</i>! They im it''s not even Sacred Brew! What are We to make of this, Master Monk?¡± He glowered down at the Guildmaster.


    Master Monk looked like she wanted to throw up. ¡°Your Majesty, the Guild found Brewer Roughtuff¡¯s arguments about the nature of brewingpelling enough to grant his beer a special status. Only True Brew and Light Brew can be given Sacred Brew designation, of which The Thirsty Goat¡¯s entry is neither.¡±


    ¡°And this?¡± He picked up Brazen Bull Brewing¡¯s bottle.


    Monk hesitated, giving Lapis an apologetic look. ¡°That is¡­ a little moreplicated, Your Majesty. Given the alchemy involved it <i>could</i> be Sacred Brew.¡±


    The King threw the bottle down into the sand. It plowed through the ground to a stop right at our feet.


    ¡°IS IT? OR IS IT NOT?¡± He roared.


    Monk gulped. ¡°No, Your Majesty.¡±


    You could have heard a pin drop. Lapis was shivering with fear and her husband had his elbow protectively around her.


    The King let us stew for another minute, before he spoke again. When he did, it was in an even cadence, like a parent exining something to a naughty child. ¡°There is much in Our country that is not as it was. The Sacred Brew is no longer the only beer. My favourite brewer no longer brews my favourite brew. A gnomess stands before me as a dwarf. The Duke of the North, Duke ckbeard has been found guilty of High Treason and plotting against the Crown. He has been stripped of his Titles, and his n purged from the ranks of the nobility.¡±


    Oh, snap! My head reeled from the mental whish of the sudden shift in subjects, and gasps echoed through the arena.


    ¡°So now the seat of Duke of the North sits empty. Additionally, the Duke of the West, Duke Barnes, has abdicated his position to his daughter, Lady Barnes, now Duke Barnes of the West.¡± The King slowly ratcheted up in volume as he spoke. The two white haired Dukes behind him were quite literally quaking in their seats.


    ¡°It has been eight thousand years since our country was founded, and our Ancestors inhabited Crack for many years before. In all that time, we have proven our ability to weather all that Gods and Mortals could throw at us. Often that meant new walls, new soldiers, new magic. Thus, in consultation with the Council of Greybeards, to stand against the troubles that face us, we have decided once again upon something¡­. <i>new</i>.¡±


    He held up a scroll of parchment, and then pped it open. It spun down over the edge of the railing and hung suspended out over the sand. I couldn¡¯t quite read it from this angle, but I had a pretty good guess what it was. My heart lurched in my stomach, and beside me Master Schist was gripping his fists so tight they bled.


    ¡°This parchment,¡± The King continued, ¡°Was presented to me by a dwarf I know and trust. It was given to <i>him </i>by a criminal and traitor to the Crown known as Thad Harmsson. Much of this <i>Great Charter </i>is nonsense, but it contains a core of good governance. It is a wise Monarch that listens to His people and thus, in ordance with the wishes of the popce, and through the application of these principles, We make the following promation to Our citizens! Hear Us, people of Crack!¡±


    The Colosseum surged to its feet as every man, dwarf, and gnome (and elf) stood to attention, their right fists over their chests. Annie and I awkwardly did the same, and a beatter Lapis and her husband did as well.


    The King waited until all movement ceased, then spoke. ¡°Every eight years, each of the Walls, from ck to Yellow, shall select from amongst them eight individuals to serve upon a Council of the Commons, one for each of the boroughs. Those thirty-two shall elect from amongst them one individual who shall serve as Prime Minister and Duke of the North for so long as they sit upon the Council. In addition, this new House of the Commons shall have the Power of the Purse for the city of Kinshasa, and the right to pass legition to the Council of Greybeards for consideration. The first election shall be held upon the first day of the new year. This new system shall be slowly instituted all throughout Crack. Thus say We, King of Crack! FOR CRACK!¡±


    The arena roared, ¡°FOR CRACK!¡±


    Lapis had copsed to her knees and was openly weeping, and I spotted many gnomes in the stand doing the same. The gnomes were the majority popce in multiple boroughs, which meant they were likely to finally have seats in the government. Monk looked resigned, but smiled as Schist reached out and took her hand. They shared a poignant look, and sidled a little closer to each other.


    ¡°Now, given all that,¡± the King said, looking back at us. ¡°There is only one answer for the beer that can best represent Our new Crack.¡±


    I felt light headed. Did that mean?


    ¡°Thirsty Goat Brewing. We find your beer to be absolutely vile to the taste, but We are King to many and have no doubt there will be many who enjoy it. We task you, in your new position of Lord, to send your CPA far and wide, that all on Erd may know the taste of CRACK!¡±


    *Bing*


    <strong>Quest Complete: </strong><strong>The Octamillennial Part 4/4!</strong>


    <i>Congrattions! And, thank you.</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew]</i>


    I very carefully, very deliberately, did<i> not</i> giggle like a loon at the King.


    Cocaine¡¯s illegal, Yer Majesty!

 Book 3 Epilogue: A New Day

    The sound of scraping stone echoed through the empty amphitheater as the mechanism, sticky from millennia of non-use, rattled and screeched.


    ¡°Gods, what a racket,¡± Johnssonined. ¡°If anyone¡¯s spyin¡¯ on us, they know something¡¯s up now for sure.


    ¡°Duke Barnes said we wouldn¡¯t be disturbed,¡± Annie muttered, as she slid the next piece of the puzzle into ce. One of the columns in the back of the Greybeard¡¯s Lyceum rotated in ce and sank down into the ground, revealing a key beneath the floor. ¡°I¡¯d like to believe her.¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s for the second keyhole in the fresco!¡± Aqua cried excitedly, running up to grab it. She then sprinted over to the two-storey high tall mosaic of a golden mountain and shoved the key into a keyhole that we¡¯d uncovered under one of the tiles.


    ¡°I really cannae believe this was never found,¡± I muttered. ¡°Has this ce never had a deep cleaning, or renovations, in all this time?¡±


    ¡°Good dwarven architecture,¡± Richter said, thumping a nearby column. ¡°No need.¡±


    I waited a breath for the column to immediately fall over because he¡¯d said that, but s. I waved at Bran across the rows of seating. ¡°Pull the lever, Bran!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s <i>Lord</i> Bran to you, Pete!¡± Bran drawled.


    ¡°You mean <i>Lord</i> Pete, you upstart noble!¡± I sniped back.


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°Gods, they each win one contest and it all goes to their heads. I¡¯m surprised it was able to get through their thick skulls. Don¡¯t you agree, Annie?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s <i>Lady </i>Annie to you, peasant.¡±


    ¡°YOU!¡± Aqua yanked on Annie¡¯s golden tressed beard, and the two began to scuffle.


    ¡°For the next step, we need two people to jump on those two gstones over there at the same time.¡± Ironbellows Herder said, reading over the instructions we¡¯d pulled from Lucky Jean¡¯s notebook. ¡°Then someone needs ta say ¡®vyveh franz?¡¯ in front of the mosaic.¡±


    ¡°Vive France,¡± I corrected. ¡°Gotta get more phlegm in there.¡±


    I stepped in front of the mural and repeated the phrase as Johnsson and Richter jumped on the gstones.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re actually doing this,¡± Annie said with awe in her voice. ¡°A real treasure from ages gone by.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that Schist is tha new Prime Minister and Duke of the North,¡± I sighed. ¡°I mean, I <i>did</i> vote for him, but now I can¡¯t Lord my noble title over ¡¯im anymore.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s <i>open</i>!¡± Aqua squealed, as she jumped out from under Annie and pulled a lever that had popped out at the tip of the mountain. A pair of handles creaked out of the mosaic in a particrly dramatic fashion.


    ¡°Pete and I should do the honours,¡± Ironbellows said, walking up to grab one of the handles.


    ¡°On three, heave!¡± I called, and with a grunt we swung the doors wide open. The space that it revealed was fairly small, actually, barely the width of a standard four-door sedan, but quite tall. And it was stuffed with gold, jewels, and gems!


    ¡°We¡¯re rich!¡± Aqua squealed as she ran inside and covered herself in gold.


    ¡°This is nice¡­¡± Annie said suspiciously, searching over everything. ¡°But we¡¯re already kind of rich, and this doesn¡¯t exactly count as a treasure worth hiding like this.¡±


    ¡°Speak fer yerself! Is that a genuine McPainter?¡± Ironbellows whispered, reaching up to andscape painting of the Crackian countryside that was hanging in the back of the alcove. He lifted it off its hook and took a closer look at the maker¡¯s mark. ¡°It is!¡±


    This novel is published on a different tform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°There¡¯s an enchantment behind dat painting,¡± Richter said with excitement, moving forward. ¡°One moment.¡±


    He traced some sigils, and with a sh, the wall behind the painting vanished, revealing a small closet containing a simple stone pedestal. A white crystal about the size of a cantaloupe sat atop it. The crystal shone with an inner ck light, and it hurt my brain to look at. Magical energy wafted off it in ethereal sma-like tendrils.


    I tried to look at the crystal with my [Manasight], but had to immediately turn the Ability off. The bloody thing was brighter than the sun!!!


    ¡°What is it?¡± Aqua asked, peeking at the crystal through slitted eyelids.


    ¡°A <i>Worldstone</i>,¡± Richter said, his voice filled with awe.


    ¡ª


    Somewhere else


    The two figures stepped carefully as they navigated the wet ground of the mining tunnel. One was a ck-bearded dwarf in the uniform of a Kinshasa Reform Mine Supervisor, and the other was a well-dressed elf. Each wore a hard hat with an embedded Solstone as they plunged deeper and deeper into the dark.


    ¡°Not often that we see you lot down ¡®ere,¡± the dwarf mentioned offhand.


    ¡°Yes, well I suspect that may change in theing days,¡± the elf following him murmured.


    ¡°Aye. There¡¯s been a lotta that goin¡¯ about.¡± The mine foreman grinned. ¡°Did ya hear what they did to those monsters tha ckbeards? They done got my cousin killed in that big mine copse a few years back. d to finally see justice!¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ indeed.¡± The elf sidestepped a crew pushing a minecart up the slope.


    ¡°So¡­ what didja say yer name was again?¡±


    ¡°Joseph.¡±


    ¡°So, Joseph, what brings ya to see ¡¯im exactly?¡± the supervisor asked with feigned disinterest.


    ¡°Business,¡± Joseph replied curtly.


    ¡°No need ta get yer ears in a twist,¡± the foreman muttered. They arrived at a dive tunnel and the foreman pointed down it. He grinned widely, revealing a mouth peppered by golden false teeth. ¡°He¡¯s in there. He¡¯s on tha clock, so you¡¯ll need ta go in to chat with him.¡±


    Joseph hitched up his sleeves and smiled. ¡°Of course!¡±


    It was a tight squeeze for the tall elf, and he had to crawl on hands and knees. As soon as he was down a bend and out of sight from the foreman, a frown darkened Joseph¡¯s face. ¡°<i>Che Stronzo</i>¡± he muttered angrily, then let out another angry epithet as his shins scraped a sharp stone in the dark.


    ¡°Who goes there?¡± a voice called from deeper down the dive. It was a well-cultured voice, with the cadence of nobility.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for Thad Harmsson?¡± Joseph shouted back.


    There was silence for a moment, then the voice called back. ¡°Ambassador, is that you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is. May we speak for a moment?¡±


    ¡°Come on in. I have to keep working, I¡¯ve got a quota to meet.¡±


    Joseph made his way down the cramped tunnel inch by inch until he neared the end. Contrary to the Ordinances, a single dwarf was plinking away on the wall.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a dive team?¡± Joseph asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t want to chance getting knifed down here. And I like the alone time. Lets me think,¡± Harmsson said, wiping sweat and grime from his face. ¡°This is far more invigorating than I expected, even if it¡¯s hard on the back¡±


    ¡°To each their own.¡±


    ¡°What can I do for you, Ambassador?¡± Harmsson asked, as he resumed plinking away at the wall. ¡°[Basic Pick]!¡±


    Joseph watched him work for a while. ¡°I came to see you in your official duty as the Minister of Finance.¡±


    Harmsson chuckled darkly. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I should be happy or annoyed by that. I can¡¯t believe they allowed Yellowwall to put me, a condemned criminal, on the ballot. I can¡¯t believe I won, and I can¡¯t believe that damn fool Schist made me Minister of Finance!¡±


    ¡°At least itmuted your sentence,¡± Joseph said, smiling.


    ¡°Bah! Not sure mining fer the rest of my life beats the headsman¡¯s axe. The King made it clear that I¡¯ll be in here till I die.¡± Harmsson¡¯s mouth stretched into a knifelike smile. ¡°But watching wealthy merchants and minor noblese tumbling down the dive to see me has been entertaining at least. Probably why Schist did it. Gives ¡¯em some perspective!¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Joseph rubbed his cut knees and frowned. ¡°I came to talk to you about a new trade treaty with Awemedinand. Now seems as good a time as any to try to enact more open borders.¡±


    Harmsson stopped hitting the wall with his pick and turned to examine Joseph. ¡°What do you want, elf? Really? It can¡¯t just be more money, the Greybough Consortium is wealthier than most Kingdoms.¡±


    Joseph smiled. ¡°To see and try new things, my dear Harmsson. All of these petty kingdoms are so insr that it limits innovation and the exchange of goods and new ideas. There¡¯s so much more we could do if all the races were given free reign to apply their own influence to all these staid traditions.¡±


    Harmsson¡¯s eyes narrowed as he considered the elf. ¡°Influence¡­ you¡¯re one of <i>them</i>.¡± He hefted his pickaxe, his eyes shifting to take into consideration angles and escape routes.


    Josephughed. ¡°I am! And I¡¯m not concerned about losing to some dwarf stuck in a mine. Nor do I care about winning! What more could I wish for!? This is as close to heaven as a Patrizio could hope for!¡±


    Harmsson lowered his pickaxe, but remained on guard. ¡°Patrizio¡­ is that Italian?¡±


    Joseph swept a deep, noble, bow. ¡°Giuseppe Civran of the Republic of Venice at your service, my dear Representative Harmsson. Now, let us talk of trade, and of one particr dwarf that I think could have a great <i>influence </i>upon my home. If only he had a reason to visit¡­¡±

 Book 3: Chapter 62.5: The Guild’s Decision

    It took several hours for us to untangle all the limbs, get any serious injuries sent out to the [Healers] and calm everyone down.


    For a given value of calm.


    Master Faucet, for one, was escorted from the room as a blubbering screaming mess. The other Master Brewers had looked away in a modicum of shame.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to excuse Master Faucet. Their brews haven¡¯t been selling well recently, and you <i>are</i> partly to me for that.¡± Master Monk sighed when the room was finally silent again. ¡°I would expect him to try a Feud at some point.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Schist scoffed. ¡°Faucet¡¯s a coward.¡±


    There were only eight Master Brewers left, Guildmaster Malt, Master Blunt, and Master Mcgrist among them. Most had various levels of bruising and torn clothing, and they all regarded us with serious eyes.


    ¡°*I* want a bloody Feud, and I¡¯m no coward, Master Schist.¡± A greybearded dwarf with a copper helm growled. ¡°But I want a full answer from that young dwarf first. What he means exactly by <i>beer</i>, and how he thinks that¡¯s different from tha¡¯ Sacred Brew! Spending on his answer I¡¯ll demand a Feud right now. And damn tha rules - !¡± He snapped as Master Monk began to interrupt. ¡°They¡¯ve been breakin¡¯ rules worse than a pack of moustachio¡¯s at a hitball game. I can break <i>one</i>, Monk!¡±


    The Guildmaster groaned and ran her hands through her beard. ¡°Are you happy Schist? Look at this! I can barely keep order in my own damn Guild!¡±


    Schist gave her an apologetic smile and held his palms out innocently. She growled in response and turned her baleful eyes on me. ¡°You, Brewer Roughtuff! You can¡¯t cause me much <i>more</i> of a headache, so how about you exin yourself.¡±


    ¡°Can I write on the board?¡± I asked, pointing to the chalkboard behind the table. She nodded and tossed me some chalk ¨C a little too hard, it smarted when it hit my palm ¨C and I walked over to the board. Annie remained behind and tried to look invisible.


    When I made it up to the board, I turned to examine the Masters. I cleared my throat and did my best to look apologetic. ¡°I want to start by saying I¡¯ve been very impressed by Kinshasa¡¯s Guild. I don¡¯t know if you heard what happened in Minnova, but we really appreciate that there haven¡¯t been any simr incidents in Kinshasa. And I want to apologize for all the hubbub that the contests have caused.¡±


    There was angry muttering around the table. Master Monk nodded. ¡°The contests aren¡¯t your fault young brewer. And we heard from Guildmaster Malt about what happened. I suspect that you¡¯ve been treated with a bit more care than otherwise, as our greybeards wished to prove not all Master Brewers were so bald-faced.¡±


    I nodded, and began writing on the board. I drew a bog-standard loaf of bread, a muffin, a bun, and a long baguette style loaf.


    When I was done, I addressed the room while pointing at the board. ¡°What are these? Can anyone tell?¡±


    There was some coughing and shuffling while they tried to determine it was a trick question. Master Blunt answered first. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ bread?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s correct. Would you all agree these are bread?¡±


    There were general murmurs of agreement. Monk was giving me a ¡®where are you going with this?¡¯ look, so I pressed on.


    ¡°In fact, there are significantly more kinds of bread than are shown here. Now, can anyone tell me what bread and beer have inmon?¡±


    nk looks. I wanted to sigh, but kept a straight face. ¡°The ingredients of bread are cereal, such as wheat or erdroot, water, and yeast. Sound familiar?¡± I ticked the board with my chalk and waited for the lightbulb.


    Schist was the first to get it. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ the ingredients of tha Sacred Brew.¡±


    ¡°Those bastards stole our recipe!?¡± One of the remaining Master Brewers jumped to his feet, bellowing. ¡°How <i>dare</i> they!? Where¡¯s ma axe! I¡¯ll go to tha¡¯ nearest baker <i>right now</i> and - ¡±


    Master Monk massaged her temples. ¡°Sit <i>down</i> Master Adensite. Bread has been around <i>much longer</i> than the Sacred Brew.¡±


    Master Adensite blinked. ¡°But¡­ then how?¡±


    Master Maltughed. ¡°Hah! A couple drawings and the ingredients of bread, and the whole guild is struck speechless..¡±


    ¡°Not all of us,¡± the copper helmed Master Brewer said. ¡°And not all of us are so ignorant of how it rtes. The Ancestral Seed for bread is <i>nothing</i> like our own, Brewer Roughtuff. The ingredients may be simr, but that¡¯s just semantics, like saying ¡®swords and axes are tha same because they both are made of metal¡¯¡±


    I conceded the point. ¡°But they are the same, in the general sense. They¡¯re both weapons. And sourdough yeasts are often cultivated just like our own. Master - uh¡­¡±


    ¡°Master Feld. Aye, they are, me ma has one that she got from her ma. Been in the family so long it¡¯s practically alive.¡±


    ¡°Yeast is - ¡° Schist began, grinning.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the vition.


    ¡°I KNOW IT¡¯S ALIVE, SCHIST! GODS!¡± Master Feld roared, then gave me a baleful eye. ¡°I see where yer goin¡¯d, and I don¡¯t like it. The Sacred Brew is <i>not</i> bread.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± I conceded. ¡°But, just as there are many breads, the <i>possibility </i>of many beers exist. And, in fact, did you know that Sacred Breads <i>also </i>exist?¡±


    A dozen eyebrows furrowed. Master Blunt raised a questioning hand. ¡°Is that true?¡±


    I nodded.¡± Aye. I could get someone with [Truespeech] to check.¡±


    ¡°Just because he believes it¡­¡± Master Feld muttered.


    Master Blunt shook his head. ¡°Nah, makes sense. Farflung tribes and towns can have tha weirdest customs. Our own city practically worships salt. Sacred Bread isn¡¯t too far off.¡±


    ¡°To be precise, it¡¯s a specific <i>kind</i> of bread.¡± I drew a bagel on the board. That wasn¡¯t <i>quite</i> correct, but I had no real way of drawing <imunion bread</i>. Or any other sacred bread for that matter. And bagels were sacred to me, especially with bacon and eggs and bernaise sauce. Gods, I needed to ask Bran to make me a BLT.


    ¡°Why¡¯s it sacred?¡± Feld asked, pulling out his own notebook and copying my sketch.


    ¡°¡®Cause it¡¯s holey.¡± I deadpanned. Across the room Annie pped her forehead.


    Master Malt chuckled, thenughed out loud. He was soon joined by the rest of the assembly, except for Master Monk, who was staring daggers at me. I smiled sheepishly at the Guild Mistress and shrugged. ¡°Sacred Bread is called that because it¡¯s used in religious ceremonies, or only at specific times or by specific people. There¡¯s no real reason for it. Just about <i>anything</i> can be sacred if you attach the right connotations to it. What I¡¯m proposing is that what makes Sacred Brew sacred isn¡¯t that it¡¯s <i>beer</i>, it¡¯s that it¡¯s <i>sacred</i>. So why can¡¯t we make other beers and just¡­ not call them sacred?¡±


    One of the Master Brewers sat bolt upright, like he¡¯d been shocked. ¡°Oy! I get it! It¡¯s like that Gods bedamned dance you do, Mcgrist!¡± He stood to his feet and tried to do a weird kicking two-step that ended with a twist.


    ¡°It¡¯s not <i>bedamned</i>, you blighter.¡± Master Mcgrist snapped back. ¡°It¡¯s been passed down for generations in me family. It¡¯s a dance ta keep away bad luck. And stop tryin¡¯ to copy it, it¡¯s¡­ special.¡± His voice grew introspective and he bit his lip.


    ¡°Sacred?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Aye.¡± Mcgrist frowned. ¡°<i>DAMN</i>, I think I get what he¡¯s sellin¡¯, and I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    I pushed. ¡°But other people can dance? They just aren¡¯t supposed to do <i>your dance</i>.¡±


    Master Monk sighed, loudly. ¡°Does anyone <i>not get it</i>, yet?¡±


    One hand went up, from a heretofore silent Master Brewer, who looked around sheepishly then slowly dropped her hand.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Master Monk twitched her head back to my seat. ¡°You¡¯ve made your point. Go back, Brewer Roughtuff.¡±


    I strode valiantly to stand next to Annie, who muttered, ¡°It¡¯s holy??¡± under her breath. I gave her a wink and she rolled her eyes.


    Master Monk tapped her fingers in the following silence, considering. The assembled Master Brewers scribbled notes, examined the board, shared <i>looks</i>, and gave me the asional glower.


    Finally, Master Monk spoke. ¡°I think we need to deliberate. Master Schist, if you could please take these two outside, and make sure they don¡¯t start any Feuds in the short time it takes us toe to a decision?¡±


    ¡°No guarantees.¡± Schist grinned, ushering Annie and I out.


    When the door closed behind us, he leaned back against it with a *whoof* of exhaled air. ¡°GODS! I wish you¡¯d warned me you were going to do that.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Sorry, we hadn¡¯t really <i>nned</i> for it to happen this way, now just seemed the best moment to pitch it.¡±


    ¡°Aye, it probably is. Maria¡¯s stern and harder than granite, but she¡¯s fair, and she¡¯ll seriously consider your proposal. If you¡¯d tried that with thest Guildmaster, he¡¯d have eaten you alive then tossed what remained to the shalesharks.¡± Schist grumbled.


    ¡°Sounds familiar.¡± Annie muttered.


    ¡°Hows our chances?¡± I asked.


    Schist considered. ¡°I¡¯d say fifty, fifty. Maria was right, everything <i>has</i> been a mess since the start of these contests. This may be the only time what you¡¯re proposing could work, Pete. Feld seems to being around to your side, and that¡¯ll help. He¡¯s straightced and conservative as theye without bein¡¯ rock-headed. The bellwethers will follow him.¡±


    We cooled our heels as journeyman and apprentice brewers ran to and fro. Annie took to kicking a wall and washing her hands with nervous energy while Schist tapped his feet impatiently.


    I activated [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] and pulled out one of my old beer journals. Might as well use the time productively.


    After an interminable amount of time, we were called back into the room by Master Monk.


    Everyone had identical serious expressions, and I felt my heart jump to my stomach. I gave Malt a curious look, but his face remained stoney.


    ¡°Master Schist, Brewer Roughtuff, and Brewer Goldstone.¡± Master Monk announced loudly, with no preamble. Annie jumped. ¡°This quorum of the Master¡¯s has decided. You are henceforth banned from brewing the Sacred Brew for the next century. That includes any Breweries you work for or are affiliated with.¡±


    Annie slumped, and Schist sighed. I stifled tears. All that hard work for <i>nothing.</i>


    But Monk wasn¡¯t done. ¡°Additionally, you are required to provide the guild with any specific recipes and techniques used in the creation of any illicit brews created by your breweries thus far.¡±


    I frowned. Why did they need that, unless¡­


    Master Monk¡¯s voice switched to the cadence of someone making an important announcement. As she spoke, I felt the umted stresses of the past few years drain away into bubbling joy.


    ¡°The Guild has decided that from this point forward, ¡®Sacred Brew¡¯ is to be a protected designation for the recipes and techniques passed down by the First Brewer. Only approved Guild brewers will be permitted to craft it, and the Ancestral Seed and exact forms for True Brew and Light Brew shall remain proprietary. However, thebination of water, malt, and yeast, henceforth called <i>beer</i>, will no longer be the purview of the Guild. Anyone selling such must still be required to meet certain Guild ¨C ¡±


    I barely heard a word she said after that as my soaring heart beat a drum of victory that drowned out anything else.


    I¡¯d finally done it, what I¡¯d sworn to do that first month here in Erd.


    <i>Beer was FREE!</i>

 Book 4: Prologue: All The Bits Of The Gods

    On the side of a cliff stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A ck mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circr marble table covered by aplex game-board sat in the centre of the gazebo. The edges of the board stretched into the distance while still somehow filling a defined space. Seven ornate figurines sat upon the board ¨C a dragon, an elf, one human, two dwarves, a gnome, and a beastfolk.


    Eight Gods sat around the board, each radiating an aura of power and majesty.


    Two of them were drunk.


    ¡°Barck, I swear that I will tie your beard to a tree and toss it off the waterfall if you don¡¯t stop giggling!¡± The Goddess Lunara, the ebon-skinned elven Goddess of Law and Order snarled.


    ¡°I cannae halp it Lunara!¡± The cheery dwarven God of Spark and Innovation sniggered, holding arge ss bottle to his chest and giving it a hug. The bottle sank into his green beard and vanished from sight. ¡°This new beer from Minnova causesughin¡¯. They call it Gigglebrew!¡±


    ¡°I *hic* prefer this eisbock of Peter Roughtuff¡¯s.¡± A morose voice sighed from further around the table. ¡°Helps me forget¡­¡± Midna, the human Goddess of Spirit and Communication, took a giant swig from a ck Whistlemug. Then she belched and crashed face first onto the table.


    Solen, the dragon-headed God of Chaos and Freedom, frowned at the pair of drunks. ¡°Can you two pay attention for a moment? We¡¯re about to vote on who gets all the Karmaing out of Crack. Lunara, you may say your piece.¡±


    Lunara stood tall and regal, her gown of moonlight spilling around her. ¡°As you all know, my Chosen Catalyst was the one who instigated all the Change happening in and around Kinshasa. I believe Thad Harmsson should receive the resulting Karma. While he may be in prison and unable to affect much Change himself, he still has a hand in it as Minister of Finance. Additionally, none of the aforementioned Change would have urred without his actions. Peter Roughtuff, while he may have been involved, was not directly responsible and should not receive any of the Karma. I ask that you vote to direct all the Karma resulting from Crack¡¯s political state to my Chosen.¡±


    There was brief apuse from the tiny gnomish Goddess of Matter and Possessions, Tiara. Lunara nodded severely and stepped back from the table.


    ¡°Barck, do you have anything to say?¡± Solen asked.


    ¡°Uh oh! He always has <i>lots </i>to say!¡± A young human girl giggled ¨C Yearn, the multi-faceted goddess of Nether and Rtionships squirmed in her chair. ¡°Can we vote now? I¡¯m booooored.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I got lots to say.¡± Barck said, calming his giggles. ¡°But I¡¯ll keep it short. None of what happened in Kinshasa were ¡®cause of ¡®yerd alone, Lunara. Pete is just as deservin¡¯ of that Karma as anyone else. The only reason this is even an argument is ¡®cause yer a namby pamby sore loser. ¡®Sides, you already got what you wanted. Why¡¯re youinin¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Says you.¡± Aaron, the antlered beastfolk God of Aether and Exchange muttered. ¡°Not all of us have been so sessful. The only one of us that¡¯s seen more Change in their Portfolios than you is Archis.¡±


    So saying, he conjured a hunk of meat and tore into it with a frustrated growl. He went at it with gusto, and Solen edged away from the stter zone.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Across the table, an elderly looking man in heavily be-runed robes, the God of Magic and Knowledge Archis, smiled with a twinkle in his eyes and waved his fingers. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m having a <i>lovely</i> go this time around! Can you believe that an enterprising young student in Kinshasa University is about to discover magic can be activated with <i>acting</i>? How marvelous! We¡¯ll see a golden age of magic, just you wait!¡±


    ¡°Ahhhhhh¡­¡­¡­¡­¡± Midna¡¯s muffled wail prated her grimy mop of ck hair from where shey face down on the table. Her Chosen¡¯s piecey off to the side of the board, alone and forgotten. The other assembled Gods gave her sympathetic looks, and Solen cleared his throat.


    ¡°Very well. Let the vote begin. The Karma gained by the changes to the ruling system of Crack, and the rapid spread of Democratic systems, should be given solely to Lunara¡¯s Chosen Catalyst Thadd Harmsson. Hands up for Yea.¡±


    Midna, Yearn, Aaron, and Tiara raised their hands.


    ¡°Tiara, you traitor!¡± Barck grumbled. ¡°How about you tell that elven Chosen of yours to keep his mitts off Pete!¡±


    ¡°Hey, your boy is getting a bit too ahead of everyone else. He doesn¡¯t <i>need</i> the Karma!¡± Tiara snapped back. ¡°And stop whining, you¡¯ll probably get even <i>more</i> new drinks out of it!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s still losing to meeeeee!!!¡± Yearn cackled, as her form shifted to that of an elderly gnomish woman with a shrillugh.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t put yer hand up.¡± Aaron observed, giving Lunara a curious gaze. ¡°Why give that whole speech if you weren¡¯t going to vote for yourself?¡±


    ¡°I am unable to deny that Peter Roughtuff helped.¡± Lunara sniffed. ¡°I was trying to convince all of <i>you</i>.¡±


    There wasughter around the table, and even Midna stopped groaning.


    ¡°It looks like a tie.¡± Solen said, smiling with a mouth full of sharp teeth. ¡°As host, I am the tiebreaker.¡±


    Lunara rolled her eyes. ¡°Fine, just say it.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­.¡± Solen rolled out the word, clearly taking pleasure in Lunara¡¯s difort. ¡°I think I¡¯ll vote for¡­. giving all the Karma to Harmsson.¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?¡± Barck yelped. Lunara pped her hands with pleasure and gave Solen a beaming smile.


    ¡°Why the change in heart?¡± Archis asked.


    ¡°I just wanted to watch Lunara squirm.¡± Solen smirked, then pointed at Barck. ¡°And shove it to you. You¡¯ve been getting a bit full of yourself, Barck! You¡¯re lucky I even let you back in!¡±


    ¡°BAH!¡± Barck harrumphed. ¡°I hope you get knots in yer beard. See if I share any of these new beers with you.¡±


    ¡°I prefer elven wine. I have <i>refined</i> tastes.¡± Solen sniffed. "And my scaled skin is immactely clear of <i>anything</i> so vulgar as follicles."


    Tiara¡¯s gaze on Solen grew sharp. ¡°<i>You¡¯re</i> in a good mood. What happened?¡±


    Solen shifted guiltily. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    Aaron went ramrod stiff and his eyes grew vacant, as though his vision was elsewhere. A momentter he hissed, ¡°The dragons! The dragons are gone!!!¡±


    ¡°What did your Chosen do?¡± Tiara asked with horror. ¡°What did he <i>do!?!¡±</i>


    Solen chuckled, then guffawed, and then his toothy roaringughter filled the gazebo and echoed out over the waterfall as it spilled out into the universe.


    Far, far, down below, cutting through the mists that covered the great ocean thaty between the continents of Drakken and North Erden, the race of dragons winged onward, a great ck behemoth at their helm.


    For the first time in eons, the dragons were on the move.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Merry Christmas and Cover 4 Reveal

    Can anyone tell the specific face he''s making? I think the artist did a good job capturing it :D


    N?v(el)B\\jnn


    Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count Word Count


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

 Book 4: Chapter 1: The World and Everything In It

    <h4>Book 4: Chapter 1: The World and Everything In It</h4>


    Hi, world! Pete here!


    It¡¯s been just over a month since we swept away the title of greatest brewer in the world!


    Today¡¯s a day much like any other. The weather¡¯s almost always cool and wet here in the underground riverside city of Kinshasa. That makes it a pretty close amalgam of my own old Beautiful British Columbiae to think of it. The biggest difference being a distinctck of sun.


    And the dwarves and gnomes everywhere. And all the cats. And all the fungi. Though it had at least one <i>fun-guy</i> inmon, Nyuck! But you get the picture.


    I nced out a window and up at the bright light emanating from one of the many floatingnterns that lit Western Crack. They didn¡¯t give off any heat, but their light helped beat back the darkness that was always trying to im back what it had once ruled.


    My head swiveled to look around the room, which was thefortably appointed central lounge of our n manor. The sunken living space was done up in a more gnomish style, with lots of wood, ss, and plush furniture. There were some nods to dwarven sensibilities, like the weapons adorning the walls, and the sheen of gold here and there, as well as the low ceiling. A pair of casks and some trays of food sat on one of the waist-high bookshelves, and arge table had been moved to the center of the space so we could all sit and snack.


    Finally, my gaze swept over the assembled grumble. With the Diggers, Kirk, and Bran added to the mix we were now quite an eclectic group.


    We were having a n Grumble. With the Octamillenial out of the way and two, three if you included Bran, new nobles in the family, everyone had lots ofining to do.


    Our blonde bearded and pink-mowhawked dandy, Johnsson, was angry about the state of the tavern. He imed it felt more like a fortress than a home these days, and the current mood in the city made it unnecessary. As head of the family, Annie decided that we¡¯d keep it for at least the next century, and that was that.


    Next, Aqua had some <i>words</i> to say about Bran, Annie and I throwing our noble titles around, and we got to sit and be chastised for a solid hour as the rest of the n chimed in.


    Okay, maybe I <i>had</i> beenying it on a bit thick. But I was a big bottomed Dwarf Lord now; I had a whole lotta <i>thick </i>to throw around!


    But point taken, I wouldy off the ¡®peasant¡¯ remarks


    Rosie wanted some more help around the inn, specifically some gnomish room cleaners since their smaller hands were better at getting into tight spaces. That or someone with a simr Ability to my own [Spot Clean].


    Bando¡¯sints were the most surprising. He had a list of small things around the tavern that when added together were causing us all kinds of unrealized heartache. One floorboard that stuck up a little in the main thoroughfare. A slight edge to the bar that kept causing bruised elbows. A divot in the floor that kept collecting little spills of beer until it caused slips and <i>big</i> spills. All in all, the young [Pacifier]¡¯s new predilection for calm headedness was paying off in spades for our n!


    Balin stepped forward to offer up his carpentry skills, and there were some smiles for a moment.


    Then there was a bunch of grumbling about the events of the past year. Everyone was <i>tired</i>. Everyone was <i>angry</i>. Everyone had had it up to their moustaches with feuds,petitions, and upending the status quo. It was time to bunker down, brew some beer, and have some peace and quiet for the next century.


    Kirk kept throwing sardonic nces my way during the entirety of thest bit. Everyone was a bit too polite to single me out as the reason for everything we¡¯d endured these past few years, but as one of the Chosen Catalysts of the Gods, my very <i>existence </i>was a focal point for chaos. Honestly, I was surprised that the God of Chaos, Solen, had never taken any interest in me.


    Though I did strongly suspect he¡¯d given me a quest to kill the King of the Dwarves. One I¡¯d resolutely refused.


    In short, everyone was stressed and just about ready to pop. Which, of course, was the purpose of the n Grumble in the first ce. Everyone bitched, drank, bragged, and then bitched some more. It was grand.


    As we were winding down, our attention was finally drawn to the elephant in the room. And no, I didn¡¯t mean Kirk.


    n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    No, it was arge lead lined case sitting in the center of the table which contained a big, glowing, rock. We¡¯d all been trying to ignore it, and the problem that it presented.


    Of course, Richter the magic maniac was the one to broach the subject.


    ¡°What¡­ do we do about ¡®de Worldstone? We cannae keep ignorin¡¯ it.¡± His deep bass voice, with the hint of a Jamaican ent boomed out for the first time this evening.


    All eyes in the room jumped to the lockbox and the mood turned foul again. The Herders had let us keep it because our ce was more secure than theirs. The only reason we didn¡¯t have every single Mage in the city knocking on our doors was a series of wards that Richter had put up on the walls to keep the magic pouring out of the stone from spilling onto the street.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    It was an incredible gift from the explorer Lucky Jean to his future family and the Chosen they¡¯d chosen to ally with.


    And it was a <i>problem</i>.


    ¡°I still want to turn it over to the Kingdom.¡± Annie frowned. ¡°It¡¯s a Kingdom level treasure.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not illegal to own¡­¡± Richter said.


    ¡°Aye, just to <i>take</i>.¡± Balin added. ¡°A Worldstone is tha heart of a dungeon; it¡¯s the focal point of all that wild Mana, and usually protected by the strongest monsters. Take it and the dungeon copses. <i>Nobody</i> wants that. How did Herder even <i>get</i> one??¡±


    ¡°Lucky Jean <i>discovered</i> most of ¡®de dungeons in Crack. Mebbe he took one from a dungeon he failed ta mention. Or found one in some secret hoard.¡± Richter shrugged. ¡°But what matters is ¡®dat we have one of ¡®de most powerful treasures in ¡®de world in our hands.¡±


    ¡°So, what can it do?¡± Aqua asked, standing to go and refill her Whistlemug.


    ¡°Bring us <i>trouble</i>!¡± Annie snapped. ¡°I thought you all wanted some peace and quiet!¡±


    ¡°Psh, where¡¯s your sense of adventure Annie!¡± Aqua tweaked Annie¡¯s beard as she passed. Annie swatted her hand and Aqua giggled.


    ¡°Lots.¡± Richter sighed. ¡°Too much, really.¡±


    ¡°How about just the interesting things.¡± I jumped in, and jumped up to refill my mug as well. I poured myself a dark spiced amber from one of the barrels. It was a new brew of my own design that used my [Barley to Bacon] spell. It reminded me a bit of a winter ale, with a mix of darker malts and some added spices beyond the usual mix of Goldstone bitters and hops. It had a higher alcohol content as well, at a solid 8%. Winter ale, was of course, a misnomer; winter ales had nothing to do with winter. Anything that used dark malts with a rtively high alcohol content and added spices could call itself a winter ale. My favourite from back on earth had been the Granville Ind Lion¡¯s Winter Ale.


    This batch wasn¡¯t quite that good, but it was good enough that I enjoyed drinking it. I enjoyed drinking a <i>lot</i> of our different brews these days. And other beers! Kinshasa was full of new craft ales, ranging the gamut from great to awful.


    ¡°Well, ¡®da most boring is ¡®dat we could use it as a magic stone ta charge an enchantment. It wouldst forevah, no matter how strong the enchant!¡± Richter gestured expensively.


    ¡°Ooh, like on a fancy magic sword?¡± Johnsson asked.


    ¡°What use would <i>you</i> have for a magic sword?¡± Aqua tittered.


    ¡°I was thinking that our new <i>lords</i> could carry it around and look pompous.¡± Johnsson snickered.


    ¡°Hey, you already got to grumble about that.¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°You are not thinking of ¡®de right kinds of enchantments.¡± Richter assayed. ¡°All of ¡®de teleportation circles in ¡®de various capitals use a Worldstone. Normally only Dungeons have enough Mana to allow teleportation, but a Worldstone can do the same.¡±


    ¡°We could have our own teleportation circle?¡± Aqua squeed.


    ¡°I could go shopping in Grandia?¡± Johnsson thrilled. ¡°They have one, right?¡±


    ¡°Grandia?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s the grandest city in the Eastern human Kingdoms.¡± Kirk said. ¡°Famous for its art and a focal point of sea trade between North and South Erden. Fatter with wealth than a low riding merchantman.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at him and he coughed and looked sideways. ¡°It¡¯s a nice city,¡± He continued. ¡°Sunny, and good food.¡±


    ¡°How good?¡± Bran asked.


    ¡°Not <i>that </i>good.¡± Kirk chuckled.


    ¡°And that sounds boring Richter, Kinshasa already has a circle, we just can''t use it. Get to the good stuff!¡± I piped up.


    Richter pulled out a sheet of paper and began writing on it. We all bent forward to look. ¡°A Worldstone is essentially a giant focus point for magic and power. It would be easier to list what it <i>couldn¡¯t </i>do. ¡®De most famous are: it can evolve Abilities; even Blessing¡¯s! It can erge dimensional spaces, often manyfold. Oh, and if you ce it in ¡®de right kind of ce, one strong ¡®wit Mana and ¡®de God¡¯s power, it can form a new dungeon.¡±


    You could¡¯ve heard an axe drop.


    ¡°We could have our own <i>dungeon</i>?¡± Balin whispered.


    Richter nodded. ¡°Aye. Though it would take a few centuries ta form. I suspect ¡®dats what Jean meant fer it to be used for. You¡¯d need at <i>least</i> two ns ta run a dungeon in secret, like us and ¡®de Herders.¡±


    Annie gulped. ¡°Is that¡­ is that even feasible?¡±


    Balin frowned. ¡°I dunno if even our team would be strong enough ta keep an entire dungeon in line.¡±


    ¡°A young dungeon wouldn¡¯t be ¡®dat strong.¡± Richter shrugged. ¡°We¡¯d have a long time ta grow from its riches, enough ta start a Kingdom of our own.¡±


    There was silence as we all digested his words.


    Rosie rolled her eyes. ¡°You lot can barely keep this tavern running. And you want to run a Kingdom??¡±


    ¡°I vote Rosie for Queen.¡± Aqua put her hand up. ¡°She¡¯s already good at bossing everyone around.¡±


    ¡°As if!¡± Rosie choked.


    ¡°Ah, so peaceful¡± I muttered sardonically. ¡°So rxed and quiet. I foresee days full of blissful boringbour and good eating.¡±


    Annie pped her hands. ¡°For now we¡¯ll shelve the Worldstone. I think we should wait until somethinges to mind. I¡¯m really¡­ not enthused about the dungeon idea. Feel free to let us know if you have any good ideas!¡±


    I thought about putting forward [Pete''s Miniature Remembrance] but¡­ using a cool permanent upgrade on something that was at its heart, ephemeral, seemed a bad idea.


    And that was it!


    Though of course, no grumble wasplete without a final word from the Princess, who dropped her drink bowl on top of the Worldstone lockbox.


    *MEEEEHHHH!!!!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°All of your whining has made me thirsty! See to your princess!!¡±


    ¡°Yes, Penelope!¡± We all said together, thenughed.


    The meeting adjourned and we all went our separate ways. Everyone had work to do, and I had a meeting with an illustrious business associate.

 Book 4: Chapter 2: The Duke of the North

    As we broke up, Aqua caught my attention and pulled me over.


    ¡°Aye, what is it?¡± I asked, giving her an eyebrow waggle.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t make time for therapyst week,¡± she used.


    I grimaced. ¡°Sorry, I was doin¡¯ some axe throwing with Balin and Annie. It was meant to <i>be</i> therapy. I wanted ta see what it is they get up to, and spend some, y¡¯know, family time.. ¡±


    Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°Schmoozing, that¡¯s what they get up to.¡±


    I nodded, chagrined. ¡°Aye, that and a lot of actually hitting the target. I managed one in three or so. Not bad, I¡¯ve practiced before, but not great.¡±


    Aqua sighed. ¡°And I¡¯m certain they spent a lot of time talking about hitball and thenpared throwing techniques.¡±


    ¡°Ugh. Yes, how do they even have <i>time</i> to keep up with hitball stats!?¡±


    ¡°They <i>make </i>time.¡±


    ¡°<i>Young couples.</i> I tell ya.¡±


    Aqua arched her brows. ¡°They¡¯re older than <i>you</i>.¡±


    ¡°Meh, I was married for decades. Just wait and see what happens when Annie uses Balin¡¯s beardb and leaves hairs tangled in it. Or when Balin drops a bloody axe on her couch. <i>That¡¯s</i> when we¡¯ll know if it¡¯s true love or not.¡±


    Aqua tittered. ¡°Hah! I¡¯d be kneecapping any parmour who left beard hairs in my brush.¡±


    I grinned. She grinned.


    Then she frowned, ¡°You¡¯re avoiding the question. <i>Therapy</i>.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Okay. Tonight. I have a meeting with Schist first.¡±


    ¡°You mean <i>Duke</i> Schist.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t we just have a whole thing about lording it over people?¡±


    ¡°That was you and Annie. He¡¯s a Duke. He has a bigger axe to swing around.¡±


    ¡°Axe, huh? Is that what they¡¯re calling it these days?¡±


    ¡°Yes. So you¡¯d better chop, chop.¡±


    Iughed. ¡°Hah! Good. Yes, I¡¯m off, see you tonight!¡±


    She wagged her finger at me. ¡°Tonight!¡±


    My meeting with Schist was distant enough that I decided to take Penelope. Schist was holed up in a wing of City Hall that¡¯d recently been repurposed for the Council of the Commons, or the ¡®Citizen¡¯s Council¡¯ if you were being polite.


    Penelope was¡­ not the easiest ride. The city¡¯s rented unigoats were generally docile (for a unigoat) and went where you told them. Penelope had her own ideas, and we lost a lot of time stopping at street vendors and nibbling on the odd nt poking out of the gstones.


    But at the same time, traffic just <i>melted</i> around us as we meandered. The other unigoats and the odd ox or horse-pulled cart seemed to practically jump out of our way. I watched with amusement as a passing dwarf was tossed off his suddenly skittish unigoat into a cart full of leafy greens. The gnome pulling the cart had some <i>incredibly</i> choice words to say about that.


    [Tranted from Foul Mouthed Gnome] ¡°My cord greens!¡±


    *aahhh!* [Tranted from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°How many times dost we need teach you this lesson, old gnome!¡±


    ¡°Penelope!¡± I chastised as we passed by. ¡°Language!¡±


    The trip was otherwise uneventful, and I soon found myself standing before City Hall. It was a massive,byrinthine ce, filled with tax collectors and government officials. In short, it was probably somebody¡¯s version of hell.


    It took some doing, but I eventually found my way to Schist¡¯s office. I knocked twice at a nondescript door in the Citizen¡¯s Council Chambers that just said ¡®office¡¯.


    ¡°Come in!¡± A familiar elderly voice called out.


    I pushed my way in with a big smile. ¡°Schist! How are ya¡¯ doin¡¯ oh high and mighty Duke of The North?¡±


    Schist was seated at the head of arge wooden table that was absolutely <i>covered</i> in papers. The walls were all taken up by chalkboards that were simrly covered with math and writing. He was short as ever, with his palid pate and a grey-white traditionally knotted beard. Unlike his usual ck Master Brewer robes, he wore a set of dress armour in the currently-vogue crimson style. He also looked¡­ tired. He still had the same manic energy that¡¯d taken him over since he lost the contest, but he was looking a little worn around the edges.


    There were two other dwarves in the room, one an elderly greybeard I didn¡¯t recognize, and a scowling dwarfess I did. I gave the dwarfess, one of Thad Harmsson¡¯spanions, a curt nod. ¡°Lady Vi¡±


    ¡°Brewer Roughtuff,¡± she harrumphed back.


    ¡°Have you, ah, booted ckbeard in the apricots yet?¡± I asked, searching for just the right words. It had been Harmsson¡¯sst request before he hadn¡¯t actually died, but I¡¯d passed it on all the same.


    ¡°No.¡± She frowned. ¡°Louis ckbeard is in prison. <i>Actual </i>prison. All his nonsense finally caught up with him. The booting seemed unnecessary.¡±


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the tform they originally published on.


    An awkward silence stretched, as Schist and the other greybeard looked quizzically back and forth between myself and Lady Vi. I coughed ¡°Any word from Harmsson?¡±


    Vi¡¯s gaze grew knifelike and she turned to read some paperwork, not answering my question.


    ¡°Funny you should say that.¡± Schist broke in, pulling a paper from the pile and holding it out to me. ¡°But first, would you give this a read?¡±


    I gave Vi a sheepish smile and walked forward, taking the paper from Schist.


    I read it over, my eyebrows slowly rising the more I did. When I was done I gave Schist a <i>look</i>. ¡°Schist¡­ is this real?¡±


    Schist nodded. ¡°Aye. That¡¯s the number of applications the Brewer¡¯s Guild has received in the past month. In Kinshasa alone.¡±


    I gulped. ¡°Over twenty <i>thousand!?¡±</i>


    ¡°It¡¯s bigger when you take into ount other cities.¡± The greybeard added, pulling another sheet from the table and passing it over.


    It was a report from my own ¡®hometown¡¯ of Minnova. It listed another ten thousand prospective brewers.


    ¡°Maria ¨C Guildmistress Monk has reached out to tha government to take care of it. The currentws don¡¯t allow the public sale of these new Brewers¡¯ brews, but that may have ta change given the sheer volume of it all. Do ya have any thoughts?¡± Schist asked.


    n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    I considered what I¡¯d had to drink the past few weeks. Just because they weren¡¯t up for sale didn¡¯t mean the eager beavers weren¡¯t pawning off their brews on anyone willing to try one, and usually that meant <i>me</i>. ¡°Um¡­ most of them probably shouldn¡¯t be up for sale. People will get sick.¡±


    ¡°That bad?¡± The greybeard asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve only been fine because I have [Sense Poison]!¡± I nodded at the greybeard, then gave Schist a long blink.


    Schist looked nk, then realized. ¡°Ah, sorry. Brewer Roughtuff, this is Administrator Mcgofer. Mcgofer, Roughtuff. Mcgofer is on loan from City Hall and has been helping me with paperwork.¡±


    I reached out and shared a fistbump with the unfortunately named dwarf. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, the pleasure is mine. Though you may not realize it, your influence on all these proceedings has been quite monumental. I¡¯d hazard to say that it wouldn¡¯t have even been possible without you!¡± Mcgofer waxed poetically.


    I chuckled nervously. ¡°Surely not <i>that</i> much.¡±


    No seriously, <i>please</i> don¡¯t me me for it!!!


    Schist nodded seriously. ¡°Yes. I wouldn¡¯t have gotten involved in all this without your influence Pete, and who knows what would¡¯ve happened to Harmsson without you. Everymon dwarf and gnome in Crack owes you much.¡±


    ¡°Ahaha¡­.¡± Iughed nervously, thinking about how <i>upset</i> certain subsets of dwarves were about all the changes ripping through dwarven society right now. They were the minority, but it only took one highly Specialized individual to ruin your day.


    ¡°But that wasn¡¯t why I called you here,¡± Schist continued, ¡°though it is rted. My Minister of Finance, you may know him? One Thad Harmsson? He has a proposal that I think suits you perfectly.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do me any favours, Harmsson.¡± I muttered under my breath. Out loud, I gave a curious, ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°The Greybough Consortium, under the direction of the Ambassador Joseph Stannard from Awemedinand, wants to begin brewing beer. We think it would be a perfect opportunity for dwarven expats living there to showcase our culture, while helping repair cultural bridges that could use some basic maintenance. We need a cultural ambassador. They need someone to teach them to brew. I believe we should send them a noble of the Kingdom who is knowledgeable and outgoing, and willing to fully immerse themselves in a new environment.¡±


    I nodded along. Those all sounded like necessary qualities for the job as described. When he finished talking and stared pointedly at me, the proverbial armoured sock dropped.


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± I waved my hands in front of my body as a desperate shield. ¡°Not happenin¡¯. I just <i>finished</i> a beervolution. I donnae need ta get involved in even <i>higher</i> politics.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the best dwarf fer the job, Pete.¡± Schist said seriously. ¡°And think of all the good fishin¡¯ you¡¯ll be able to do up on the surface! I hear there¡¯s even fish other than trout!¡±


    ¡°Mebbe salmon.¡± I sighed, thinking back to the few times I¡¯d gone out bottom bouncing for Sockeye on the Fraser River. ¡°But no! You will not tempt me, Duke! I shall not be swayed by your honeyed words!¡±


    ¡°Listen Pete.¡± Schist¡¯s tone was tense. ¡°Things are tight in the city right now. And with our new Council in charge of the purse¡­ we really need a win, economically speaking. To prove to the Council of Greybeards that this isn¡¯t all a big mistake. This deal with Awemedinand could be it. They¡¯re offerin¡¯ a lot of trade concessions, but brewing <i>and </i>cksmithing techniques are on the table. The cksmithing will be a hard sell, but the citizenry is ripe fer trading in brewing right now. And we could <i>really </i>use the extra gold.¡±


    I licked my suddenly dry lips at the familiar refrain. Money, money, money, it always seemed toe down to that. ¡°How, ah, much gold do ya need? Mebbe you could borrow some from a friend?¡±


    Schist rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not goin¡¯ to beg you for money, even if Duchess Barnes <i>did</i> fill me in on your financial situation somewhat. I¡¯d prefer something a little more long-term, and if there¡¯s anything elves do well, it¡¯s <i>long term</i>.¡±


    ¡°Almost as long as their ears!¡± Mcgofer squeaked.


    There was a general sensible chuckle.


    ¡°How bad is it, Schist? Really.¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad, Pete. The ckbeards and their allies in the Council of Greybeards looted the treasury dry over the past couple millenia. All of Yellowwall is in desperate need of infrastructure, and the poption of the city grows by the day.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°We¡¯ve been hearin¡¯ tell in the tavern. Lots of Dungeon Breaks and roving monsters. Folks¡¯re lookin¡¯ for somewhere safe.¡±


    Schist leaned back in his chair and pinched his nose. ¡°The reports on those are somewhere in that mess of paper on the table. The number of dungeon breaks is up almost 300% fromst year, and it¡¯s happening <i>everywhere</i>. Ambassador Stannard says that news from the surface is simr, and our southern and northern cousins report the same. We need more Highwatch, which means more weapons, armor, and potion supplies, and all that costs <i>more</i> Gold.¡±


    There was some silence as I digested everything, broken only by Vi scritching on paper as she did her best to ignore us. Eventually, Schist stood, gesturing to the door. ¡°At least think about it, Pete. Ambassador Stannard says he¡¯d love to talk to you further, and that he has a prize he owes you. Talk to him, then get back to me.¡±


    I was ready to deny him outright, but¡­ I really did need to think about it. Visiting the home of the elves could be fun, and I¡¯d get to find new ingredients on the surface and try new foods and new alcohols. Think of it as a vacation! Getting schmoozed by all and sundry as the high muckety-muck from Crack. Yes, yes, it could be fun. But it would also be a lot of work.


    <i>Bing!</i>


    <strong>New Quest: The Ambassador Part 1/3!</strong><strong></strong>


    <i>Be the brew ambassador to Awmedinand and meet with the Elven King!</i><i></i>


    <i>ept Schist¡¯s Offer: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: Charisma +1</i>


    <strong>Do you ept?</strong>


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    I waved the quest away for now, not epting or denying it. ¡°I can¡¯t promise anything, Schist,¡± I began, haltingly, ¡°but I¡¯ll talk to Joseph and think about it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯m asking, Pete. Thank you. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, my next appointment will be here soon. So long!¡±


    And with that, he deposited me outside his office.


    I stared around the empty Council chambers, then marched resolutely out. Time to see Joseph, who did indeed have something he owed me. Something tied to a quest and of great personal interest to me.


    <i>Elven wine!</i>

 Book 4: Chapter 3: Elven Wine

    <h1>Book 4: Chapter 3: Elven Wine</h1>


    Book 4: Chapter 3: Elven Win


    Thankfully, the embassy of the elven Kingdom of Awemedinand was located a short hop and a skip down the way from City Hall, so it wasn¡¯t a long trip. I dropped by to make sure Penelope was doing well ¨C she¡¯d cornered the goat minder and was forcing him to give her extra snacks ¨C then sauntered down the road.


    I added my new quest to the queue. I had quite a lot of them now. Most were the various influence quests, but I had a few other odds and ends as well.


    <strong><em>More Brews Part 4/5</em></strong>


    <em>More! MORE!</em>


    <em>Invent sixty-four new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count.</em>


    <em>Drinks Invented: 8/64</em>


    <em>Rewards: Increased Personal Mana</em>


    <strong><em>A Magical World Part 3/10</em></strong>


    <em>Now that you¡¯ve got some magic, try learning some!</em>


    <em>Spells Learned: ?</em>


    <em>Rewards: Increased Mana Pool</em>


    <strong><em>What¡¯s all the Fuss About?</em></strong>


    <em>What¡¯s the deal with elven wine? Find out for yourself!</em>


    <em>Wine Drunk: 0/1</em>


    <em>Rewards: You Get To Drink Elven Wine</em>


    <strong><em>Dwarven Influencer Part 8/10</em></strong>


    <em>The dwarves need your help. Influence 2,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</em>


    <em>Dwarves Influenced: 1,562,150/2,000,000</em>


    <em>Rewards: 1 x Deific Revtion</em>


    <strong><em>Gnomish Influencer Part 8/10!</em></strong>


    <em>The gnomes need your help. Influence 2,000,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.</em>


    <em>Gnomes influenced: 673,124/2,000,000</em>


    <em>Rewards: [Tools of the Trade]</em>


    <strong><em>Elven Influencer 1/10</em></strong>


    <em>Dunno how well this gonna go with just beer, to be honest.</em>


    <em>Maybe some wine?</em>


    <em>Elves Influenced: 1,834/2,500</em>


    <em>Rewards: [Adjust Taste]</em>


    <strong><em>Human Influencer 3/10</em></strong>


    <em>Giants have giant tastes, and I¡¯m looking forward to a beer that can satisfy them!</em>


    <em>Humans Influenced: 3,125/5,000</em>


    <em>Rewards: +0.5 Charisma, +0.5 Dexterity</em>


    <strong><em>Fisherdwarf 1/10</em></strong>


    <em>Shouldn¡¯t you be brewing?</em>


    <em>Catch 16 Fish</em>


    <em>Fish Caught: 4/16</em>


    <em>Rewards: +0.2 Dexterity, +0.2 Vitality</em>


    <strong><em>Deadly Ambush Part 2/2</em></strong>


    <em>Find the bastards that dared to try and kill you. Make them pay!</em>


    <em>Attacker Unmasked: 1/1</em>


    <em>Attacker in: 0/1</em>


    <em>Rewards: [Perceive Ambush]</em>


    <strong><em>Publicly Traded Part 2/3</em></strong>


    <em>Why stop with one? Take control! Own 51 percent of apany!</em>


    <em>Percentage of Shares Owned: 50/51</em>


    <em>Rewards: +0.4 Charisma, +0.2 Intelligence</em>


    <strong><em>True Love</em></strong>


    <em>In another lifetime you found and lost what many can only dream of. Can you do it again?</em>


    <em>True Love Found: 0/1</em>


    <em>Rewards: [ess to the Karma Store]</em>


    <strong><em>The Ambassador Part 1/3</em></strong>


    <em>Be the brew ambassador to Awmedinand!</em>


    <em>ept Schist¡¯s Offer: 0/1</em>


    <em>Rewards: Charisma +1</em>


    The quests seemed toe at random, but there was a definite pattern to them. If I was going to be doing something especially difficult, dangerous, or involved, there was often a quest involved. Harmsson made mention once that I should really be forcing myself into those kinds of situations to farm quests, but it just didn¡¯t really interest me. ?


    Some of the quests were dead in the water at this point. For example, I¡¯d likely never get a shot at killing Ambermine, since he was in prison. Ah well, they¡¯d cancel themselves eventually.


    I pulled up my sheet and gave it a perusal.


    <strong>Status: Provided by the Firmament</strong>


    <strong><em>Name:</em></strong><em>Peter Roughtuff</em>


    <strong><em>Age:</em></strong><em>51 (Birthday is the 15th day of the 5th month)</em>


    <strong><em>Conditions:</em></strong>


    <strong><em>Race:</em></strong><em>Dwarf</em>


    <strong><em>Blessings</em></strong><em>: [Flesh of Stone], [sh of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Map], [Refine Brew], [Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye], [Lesser Arcane Crafting]</em>


    <strong><em>Title:</em></strong><em>[Otherworldly Brewer]</em>


    <strong><em>Milestones:</em></strong><em>[Power Pick], [Basic sh], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Thick Skin], [Friend: Gnomes], [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Long Stride],[Sense Poison],[Spot Clean], [Unbending], [Rapid Aging], [Lucky Break], [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew], [Wayfinder]</em>


    <strong><em>Strength:</em></strong><em>20.8</em>


    <strong><em>Vitality:</em></strong><em>22</em>


    <strong><em>Agility:</em></strong><em>14.7</em>


    <strong><em>Dexterity:</em></strong><em>15.4</em>


    <strong><em>Wisdom:</em></strong><em>15.4</em>


    <strong><em>Intelligence:</em></strong><em>19.9</em>


    <strong><em>Perception:</em></strong><em>18.4</em>


    <strong><em>Charisma:</em></strong><em>21.5</em>


    An eight was the average for a teenager and every four was a 1.5 times increase. That put me just over 2-3 times better than a teenager at just about everything. It wasn¡¯t<em>too</em>noticeable; I just didn¡¯t really get tired anymore, and I could take a serious beating during bar fights.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The newest additions were [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew] and [Wayfinder], one of which I¡¯d gotten for winning the Octamillenialpetition, and the other forpleting<em>More Brews</em>level 3. It didn¡¯t really fit the rest of my brewing and administration Ability kit, but it woulde in handy if I ever got lost in a sewer again.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    <strong>[Wayfinder]</strong>-<em>You can set a waypoint to any ce you have physically been. Setting a waypoint removes any previously set waypoints. You always know the direction and distance to your waypoint.</em>


    My current waypoint was, of course, set to home. My room in the Thirsty Goat manor house to be more specific. To be even<em>more</em>specific, it was set to my private little hidey hole in my room where I went to sit in the dark and contemte my life choices.


    The other ability was a bit more interesting. Both because it was a Personalized Ability, and just in general.


    <strong>[Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew]</strong>-<em>Your brews are lucky. Anything you brew is less likely to be dropped or broken, less likely to go bad, and more likely to be purchased at random.</em>


    <em>This Ability is always active.</em>


    Now see, with a name like that I¡¯d<em>assumed</em>it would be something like the gem brew that our good friends the Herders had made. We dodged out of the way of an out-of-control goat cart as I chuckled at the thought. Poor Ironbellows Herder had gotten in quite a bit of trouble with the local gem merchants when his<em>Lucky Brew</em>had tanked the value of local gemstones.


    The Ability was interesting, in that it was the only Ability I really had no control over. Anything I brewed was just¡­ lucky. That was it. Ironbellows and I tested it one afternoon by dropping bottles of Assster and bottles of Herder beer off the bar. My bottles had shattered on the floor at a ratio of 3:2, while his<em>always</em>broke into a million tiny shards.


    That¡¯d continued for a while until Rosie hade and boxed our ears. Which hadn¡¯t been entirely fair ¨C I¡¯d been keeping everything clean with [Spot Clean]. Ah, such good memories.


    And now it was time to make new ones, as I arrived at the entrance of the Awemedinand Embassy.


    Embassy Row was eclectic, even for the Redwall district of Kinshasa. Most architecture in Kinshasa was fairly uniform, of either dwarven or gnomish style. Lots of stone and metal or lots of wood and ss. You could definitely spot the different styles as tastes changed over the centuries, but there were certain constants. Buildings were usually one storey, maybe two, with deep basements.


    The embassies werepletely different. Tall pagodas, European style mansions, literal holes in the ground. They ran the gamut, and really drove home how little I¡¯d really seen of this world. I couldn¡¯t help myself from gawping as I stumbled around like a tourist, gawping.


    The elven embassies were something else. A massive copse of hundreds of trees, each about five storeys tall sat in the middle of the street. Paths wound between their trunks both on the ground in and in the air, stretching between huts that¡¯d seemingly been grown right out of the bark.


    I held back a little squee. It was exactly what I¡¯d imagined elvish architecture would look like.


    The elves themselves¡­


    To start with, they were, as a rule, short; about the same height as a dwarf. There were a few taller outliers here and there, but none of them came close to Joseph¡¯s towering level. Plus, the elves took the form of other races, so there were green dwarves, green gnomes, green beastfolk, and green humans. I even spotted someone who looked<em>identical</em>to the Jolly Green Giant.


    They did all have pointy ears and lithe bodies, but that¡¯s where the Tolkeinesque resemnce ended. Since they were nts, every elf had light green skin and dark red bark-coloured hair, and looked<em>nothing</em>like Liv Tyler in Lord of the Rings.


    What a waste.


    I made my way up to the maze of trees and set a [Waypoint], just in case. Then I brushed past a pair of gnomish-looking female elves. Or was that elvesses? Gnomess, dwarfess, so¡­ elfess? What about humans? Humaness? Wo-man? Words were weird. Give me something simple like reading specific gravities instead.


    The signage was quite clear, and I soon found myself standing at the door to the Awemedinand embassy.


    Awemedinand was<em>the</em>Kingdom of the elves, but it wasn¡¯t the<em>only</em>elvish Kingdom. There were several elven Kingdoms scattered through the various forests of the continents of North and South Erden. Many of them even had embassies within this pop-up forest. Awemedinand was just the biggest, by far, and bridged the two continents. That made it a major trade thoroughfare as well as a center of culture and knowledge.


    A mithril armoured elven guard stood at the door. He took a look at my ID, studied me with a few Abiltiies, then passed me through.


    The inside of the treehouse was more spacious than I¡¯d expected, but still cramped. The front entryway had a simple front desk manned (elfed?) by a dashing looking dwelf (dwarf/elf? words are weird)


    ¡°Can I help you?¡± The elf asked, smiling brightly. His beard was the same ruddy red as his hair, and had the look of knotted wood.


    ¡°Aye. I¡¯m here ta see Ambassador Stanndard? Peter Roughtuff.¡±


    ¡°Hm? [Appointment Schedule].¡± He activated an Ability and his eyes flicked through an invisible screen. After a few seconds he gave me a sad look. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have you in the schedule sir. Are you sure it was for today?¡±


    I shuffled ufortably. ¡°Erm. Duke Schist sent me?¡±


    The elf¡¯s face visibly brightened and he stood up. ¡°Oh my goodness! Are you the one rmended by the Duke? Please,e in,e in! You don¡¯t have an appointment, but I have standing orders to bring you in to meet the Ambassador.¡±


    He walked over to a small round door carved into the wall, and knocked. A cultured voice came muffled through the door. ¡°Come in.¡± The clerk opened the door and waved me through with a bow. I had a moment to admire the ¡®architecture¡¯ before my attention was caught by the room¡¯s sole inhabitant.


    This room was quite a bit smaller than the front entrance, with walls the same cheery walnut as the rest of the building. There were bookshelves made<em>of</em>wall, not cut in, but instead sculpted from the living wood that formed the walls. Solstones dotted the ceiling here and there, their warm light giving the space a homey feel. There was a distinctck of fireces or weaponry.


    A single picture of a majestic elf wearing a crown sat on the wall over arge leather-topped desk. The elf was of human form, and had a regal bearing that spoke of power and thousands of years of life. That<em>had</em>to be the king.


    The elf sitting beneath it was not as royal, but still impressive in his own right. Joseph Stanndard, Ambassador of Awemedinand and a business associate who¡¯d been instrumental in helping me spread brewing to the masses. Even now his Greybough Consortium was selling my yeast cultivation and brewing books as fast as they could print them. His desk was neatlyid out, with a few papers atop it and a pair of ss goblets. He finished stamping a set of documents, then stood and reached over the desk to bump fists.


    ¡°Wee, Pete! I¡¯m sorry about the tight space.¡± He gave an apologetic smile.


    In the tiny room the tall elf loomed somewhat, but he quickly sat back down and gestured for me to take a seat on the only other chair in the room.


    I squeezed into it, and gave a friendly return smile. ¡°No problem. I suspect it¡¯ll be spinnin¡¯ soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± Joseph chuckled. ¡°Since you made it past my clerk, I¡¯m guessing that you epted the Duke¡¯s request?¡±


    ¡°Mmm¡­ let¡¯s call it probationary. He said I should talk to you first.¡±


    Joseph ced his elbows on the table and tented his hands. ¡°So, are you interested?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°¡®Interested¡¯ is a strong term. Intrigued? Giving you a single chance before I shoot you down?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take intrigued. It brought you this far. But first,¡± Joseph reached under his desk and fiddled with something. There was a *click* and the sound of a door opening and closing, and he hefted a dark ck bottle onto the desktop. ¡°I believe I owe you congrattions!¡±


    I grinned, my eyes glued to the bottle. It was in and unadorned, save for a single symbol - a stylized ¡®R¡¯ on the front etched with gold.


    ¡°I¡¯m takin¡¯ this is the famous elven wine I was promised fer winnin¡¯? What does the ¡®R¡¯ stand for?¡± I asked, pointing at thebel.


    ¡°It stands for ¡®Romero¡¯, the original creator of wine. He owns the winery.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I still can¡¯t parse that. The<em>only</em>winery.¡± ording to what I knew, both from Joseph and Barck, Wine still fell under an old Ability called [Copyright] which prevented anyone but the original creator from making any.


    Joseph nodded. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s partly the reason I wanted someone toe and get a brewing industry running in Awemedinand. I think our people should see that brewing alcohol can be for more than just a single person.¡±


    WIth that he popped the cork.


    The heady scent of wine immediately filled the small space, potent and intoxicating. It was a smell that¡¯d defined my entire<em>existence</em>for over a decade, and I shivered. I felt the hairs on my arms and legs raising, and goosebumps forming. It smelled of heavy alcohol, dark fruit, and darker promises. There were hints of vani and a touch of¡­ roses?


    It was the thickest, headiest wine I¡¯d smelled in my life.<em>Either</em>life.


    Joseph watched me with amusement.


    ¡°It¡¯s a strong smell,¡± hemented.


    ¡°Aye, that it is.¡± I gulped. ¡°But how¡¯s it taste?¡±


    He poured a small amount into each ss, and I almost stumbled forward out of my chair as I leaned forward to peer into the ruby liquid. It waspletely clear and sparkled, like the cleanest water of the clearest stream, while retaining the reddish sheen of a good red wine. I¡¯d never seen anything quite like it. It looked like a polished wine, but the smell and colour had more inmon with a full-bodied rich wine.


    ¡°It¡¯s so¡­ clear.¡± I whispered. ¡°Brilliant, even.¡± After years of piss-poor dwarven beer, it was shocking to see such a high rity alcohol.


    Joseph passed me the ss and I took it almost reverentially. I took a deep sniff, which was practically unnecessary given how totally the scent had permeated the room. I could literally<em>feel</em>the vapours rising from the surface, possibly the alcohol evaporating as it made contact with the air. A statement which, on its face, was utterly ridiculous. This stuff was<em>strong</em>!


    ¡°To a long business rtionship!¡± Joseph toasted, then winked. ¡°And hopefully to your eptance of our offer.¡±


    I toasted and then took a deep full mouthful of the wine. I<em>probably</em>should¡¯ve taken a small sip, just enough of a mouthful to appreciate the taste, but dammit I wanted to enjoy it, not engage in forey with it.


    Since I¡¯d arrived on Erd, I¡¯d been continually surprised by the dwarven reaction to new alcohols. How they went absolutely crazy, or totally ape-shit, or turned into weird beer zombies. I¡¯d always been immune, and chalked it up to my otherworldly soul or a quirk of biology.


    It turned out I just hadn¡¯t been trying the right alcohol.


    Because the moment I took my first sip of elven wine and swallowed¡­


    The room went sideways.

 Book 4 A Good Year

    I awoke upside down.


    A notification was blinking before my eyes.


    <strong><i>Quest Complete: What¡¯s all the Fuss About?</i></strong>


    <i>How was it?</i>


    <i>Reward: You Got To Drink Elven Wine</i>


    I swiped it away.


    The sky was ground. Why was the sky ground? And so far away?


    With a lurch, my brain readjusted and I felt an immediate immense surge of vertigo. I was hanging by my ankle suspended much, much too far above the ground. I admit that I screamed, but at least I didn¡¯t soil my pants. I also desperately activated [Lucky Break].


    My screams were met withughter, and I felt a tug on my leg. The ground lurched farther away and I screamed again. Thankfully, the moment was short before I was pulled back up to a tform by a rope attached to my leg. A trio of elves surrounded me as I stood on shaky feet, Joseph among them. They were giggling.


    ¡°Wha¡­ wha¡¯ happened.¡± I asked, my throat parched and cracking.


    ¡°You drank the wine, then drained the ss. Then you started ranting and weeping, and then you ran out. We had to catch you, but you were quite difficult to keep hold of. So we tied a rope around your ankle and dumped you over the side. It¡¯s how we usually deal with drunks.¡±


    ¡°I prefer getting tossed.¡± I moaned, heaving. I moved away from the edge of the tform, which helped stop the world from spinning.


    n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you liked it?¡± Josephughed. His twopanions patted him on the shoulder then ran off down the walkways.


    ¡°It was¡­¡± My brain was still foggy, but as I tried to remember, the memories came rushing back. I felt tears well up and dribble down into my beard, but I let them fall, unabashed. ¡°It was the greatest thing I¡¯ve ever tasted. It was rich, and full bodied. With dark berry tones and hints of vani. Tart, but not dry. Sweet, yet not overpowering. It was <i>ambrosia</i>.¡±


    ¡°That good?¡±


    I turned a baleful eye on him. ¡°Ya damn well know what I mean. That was the best thing I¡¯ve ever tasted. How tha¡¯ <i>hell </i>was it made??¡±


    Joseph¡¯s eyes crinkled. ¡°That¡¯s proprietary.¡±


    ¡°What does it matter if no one else can make it?¡± Godsdammit, I wanted to know how that nectar was made! If Barck had elven wine, why tha¡¯ hell did he anything else? ¡°And it could have possibilities for beer brewing!¡±


    Joseph waved me back to his office and I followed on stumbling feet. I practically plopped down onto my chair, then grabbed the empty ss next to it and scanned it desperately for any drops left on the surface. I licked it to make sure, much to Joseph¡¯s amusement. I noted that he¡¯d gone and hidden the bottle. <i>Bastard</i>.


    ¡°Perhaps if you went to the Winery and asked, Master Romero would be willing to share. You <i>are </i>the Forefather of Brewing. Perhaps that would mean something to him.¡±


    I flushed. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearin¡¯ that from some of tha¡¯ craft brewers. Can¡¯t say I like it. First Brewer is a way cooler moniker.¡±


    Joseph shrugged. ¡°We can¡¯t control how people perceive us. While the First Brewer may have invented the Sacred Brew, you are undoubtedly the one that made it avable to everyone.¡±


    I raised a shaking finger in his direction, then took a moment to try and orient it. ¡°Hey, Greybough Consortium is the one sellin¡¯ all the brewin¡¯ books.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a legal fiction and everyone knows it, Pete.¡± Joseph chuckled. ¡°But I am serious about the chance to meet Romero. I¡¯ll even put in a good word for you.¡±


    I looked down at my shaking hands and actually, <i>seriously</i>, considered the offer for the first time. Seeing all the different architecture at the embassies had really driven home how little of this fantasy world I¡¯d seen. If they were offering up a chance to travel on thepany dime, why was I so quick to say no? And all I had to do was teach some dwarves and elves how to brew beer? It sounded like a <i>great</i> idea. One I should be all over.


    But, we¡¯d just had a whole grumble about how tired everyone was of all the chaos and drama. While it would undoubtedly be <i>fun</i>, there¡¯d also be meetings with elvish nobility and possibly cranky dwarven locals.


    But¡­ I looked back at my shaking hand, and closed my eyes trying to recall the taste of that <i>glorious </i>wine.


    ¡°It really sticks to you, doesn¡¯t it. I still remember my first taste.¡± Joseph¡¯s voice came from far off.


    ¡°Aye¡­¡± My voice and thoughts trailed off as my mind wandered back to that singr perfect moment.


    Joseph made polite noises about an appointment, which I barely registered as I plodded out the door with promises to get back to himter in the week. I moved forward one step at a time, barely registering where I was going. Thank goodness I¡¯d set [Wayfinder] at the entrance, since I couldn¡¯t even see straight, let alone navigate all the signage.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the vition.


    When I was out on the street, I had to stop and sit for a while, as the chaos of Redwall traffic was a bit too much for my addled wits. When I could finally think straight, I headed back to City Hall to get Penelope.


    She was impatiently thumping her horns against the door of her kennel when I arrived, and she nailed me with an angry eye. *Baaaahhhh!!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°How dare you abandon your princess in her hour of need!?¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Yeah, yeah, sorry Penelope. I¡¯ll give you a goat treat when we get home, not that you need more ya greedy guts. I can barely get tha harness around you anymore!¡±


    She sauntered out and paused as she passed me, giving a mighty sniff. *MAAAAHhh!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°WHAT IS THAT MOST HEAVENLY OF SCENTS!?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± I backed away.


    *Baaahhh!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Are you cheating on me with other alcohols??¡±


    I patted her on the head and rubbed where she liked behind the ears to try and distract her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Penelope. It¡¯s nothing. I swear, you¡¯re the only one for me.¡±


    She butted me in the stomach, and my breath whooshed out. *Meeh!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°You dare lie to me varlet? Speak, or forever be ashamed!¡±


    I backed up, holding a hand out defensively. ¡°Penlope, Penelope, I just had a little drink. There wasn¡¯t any to share, or I¡¯d have brought you some, believe me! It was just a sip!¡±


    She advanced on me, glowering, an angry bleat growing in the back of her throat.


    ¡°Um,¡± a voice interrupted. We both looked up. A bruised and bandaged stablehand was standing at the other end of the barn, looking confused. ¡°What¡¯re you doin¡¯ with that goat?¡±


    His voice turned hopeful.


    ¡°Are you takin¡¯ her?¡±


    ¡ª


    The trip home was a bit huffier than the trip here. I kept nodding off while remembering the wine, and Penelope kept getting angry at me whenever I did. I had to hope it wasn¡¯t a long-term thing. Was elven wine addictive? Surely I would''ve gotten a notification.


    I arrived back home and shuffled Penelope to the kitchen and made her Bran¡¯s problem. Then I meandered up to the office in the manor house. Annie was holed up in there with Balin. It was the year 8001 now and it was tax time, so she was putting paperwork in order.


    ¡°Hallo Pete.¡± Balin waved happily as I entered, then his face turned grim. ¡°You okay, brother?¡±


    ¡°Pete?¡± Annie asked, standing up and walking over to me. She peered into my eyes, felt my forehead, and frowned. ¡°What happened to <i>you</i>?¡±


    ¡°I had some elven wine¡­¡± I muttered.


    ¡°What, the pointy-ears drink?¡± Balin grinned. ¡°How did itpare to real brew?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories,¡± Annie began.


    ¡°It was incredible.¡± I groaned, copsing into the office couch. I buried my face into a throw pillow. ¡°Better than anything I¡¯ve ever tasted. No beer, wine, sherry, whiskey, rum or liqueur evenes close.¡±


    Balin gawped. ¡°You, Peter Roughtuff. Master of the Unsacred Brew. Lord of Beer. Forefather of Brewin¡¯. <i>You </i>think wine is better than beer.¡±


    I groaned louder. ¡°I knew about ¡®Forefather of Beer¡¯. <i>Please</i> tell me they aren¡¯t calling me that other stuff too.¡±


    Balin guffawed, Annie giggled, I briefly, and viciously, considered telling her she was the reincarnation of the First Brewer, but kept my beard straight. Barely.


    I made a rude gesture instead. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not lyin¡¯, it really was the greatest thing I¡¯ve ever tasted. And Caroline and I shared a $4,000 bottle of ¡®04 Roman¨¦e-Conti the week after our daughter graduated high-school and left for college.¡±


    Annie sat forward with interest, her humour vanishing with the promise of interesting new alcohol facts. ¡°Ooh, a bottle of what?¡±


    I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling, remembering. ¡°It was a velveteen Burgundy Pinot Noir with notes of cherry. We paired it with a roast veal and mushrooms. I always considered it tha best wine I ever drank, outside of our own of course!¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know those words, Pete. What¡¯s a Rhumey Coney? An arthritic rabbit? And an ¡®04?¡± Balin piped up. Annie nodded vigorously, pulling out her brewing notebook.


    Ah well, anything to get my mind off¡­ things.


    ¡°The easiest to exin is the ¡®04. That refers to the vintage, or age, of the wine.¡±


    ¡°So a ¡®04 was four years old? That¡¯s quite old for a drink!¡± Annie said with a note of surprise.


    ¡°Um, no, wine and other stronger spirits can be fermented, or <i>aged, </i>for a <i>very</i> long time. The ¡®04 stands for 2004. It was closer to ten years old when we drank it.¡±


    Annie would¡¯ve done a spit-take if she could. ¡°Ten years old!?¡±


    I gave her a weak smile. ¡°One of the most famous wines is a set of two thousand bottles pulled out of a shipwreck on the bottom of the sea. They were 1907 Heidecks, and weren¡¯t uncorked until 1997. They sold fer, well, enough to buy a house. Each.¡±


    Annie did some quick math and paled. ¡°Ny years? Didn¡¯t they go bad?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Wine can be aged for up to a hundred years. However, most vintners agree that it¡¯s best to drink it within twenty. Heck, one is often more than enough. The vintage tells more than just age though; certain vintages are considered ¡®better¡¯ than others. Perhaps the grape flesh was especially plump, or the grape skins were especially tart. For whatever reason, that year is just tastier, and thus more valuable than others. That¡¯s called a ¡®good year¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Enough about gettin¡¯ old. I still want ta know about the arthritic rabbit!¡± Balin butted in.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Not Rheumy Coney. Roman¨¦e-Conti. It¡¯s a vineyard in the country of France, and considered one of tha greatest vineyards, if not <i>the</i> greatest vineyard in tha world. It¡¯s from tha Burgundy region of France, and certain wines from that region, like Pinot Noirs, are called ¡®Burgundys¡¯. A good year can go fer upwards of, well, <i>way</i> more than I could afford.¡±


    ¡°Greater than yours?¡± Annie asked, with one raised eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯d acknowledge that.¡±


    ¡°Just because I¡¯m better than many, if not most <i>dwarven</i> brewers, doesn''t mean I was the best wine brewer, or even beer brewer back in my world. I would¡¯ve called myself <i>good</i>, better than decent, but not the <i>best</i>.¡± Izily flicked at her with a ¡®shoo¡¯ gesture.


    ¡°And what¡¯s that Pinot Noir you mentioned?¡± Annie jotted something down in her notebook and gave me side-eye as she did.


    I was getting bored of this. I wanted to sleep and remember that wine. ¡°Grapes. Pinot Noir is a type of grape. And Pinot Noir wine is a red wine made with pinot noir grapes. Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Red wine? There¡¯s more than one kind of wine?¡±


    ¡°Aye. <i>Lots </i>of whining these days.¡± I mumbled.


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    ¡°S¡¯not my fault¡­. go bother Aqua¡­.¡± I yawned, rolled over, and fell asleep.


    To dreams of bungee jumping from elven tree houses, wine ss in hand, while being chased by a screaming goat.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Book 4: Chapter 4: A Good Year

    <h4>Book 4: Chapter 4: A Good Year</h4>


    I awoke upside down.


    A notification was blinking before my eyes.


    <strong><i>Quest Complete: What¡¯s all the Fuss About?</i></strong>


    <i>How was it?</i>


    <i>Reward: You Got To Drink Elven Wine</i>


    I swiped it away.


    The sky was ground. Why was the sky ground? And so far away?


    With a lurch, my brain readjusted and I felt an immediate immense surge of vertigo. I was hanging by my ankle suspended much, much too far above the ground. I admit that I screamed, but at least I didn¡¯t soil my pants. I also desperately activated [Lucky Break].


    My screams were met withughter, and I felt a tug on my leg. The ground lurched farther away and I screamed again. Thankfully, the moment was short before I was pulled back up to a tform by a rope attached to my leg. A trio of elves surrounded me as I stood on shaky feet, Joseph among them. They were giggling.


    ¡°Wha¡­ wha¡¯ happened.¡± I asked, my throat parched and cracking.


    ¡°You drank the wine, then drained the ss. Then you started ranting and weeping, and then you ran out. We had to catch you, but you were quite difficult to keep hold of. So we tied a rope around your ankle and dumped you over the side. It¡¯s how we usually deal with drunks.¡±


    ¡°I prefer getting tossed.¡± I moaned, heaving. I moved away from the edge of the tform, which helped stop the world from spinning.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you liked it?¡± Josephughed. His twopanions patted him on the shoulder then ran off down the walkways.


    ¡°It was¡­¡± My brain was still foggy, but as I tried to remember, the memories came rushing back. I felt tears well up and dribble down into my beard, but I let them fall, unabashed. ¡°It was the greatest thing I¡¯ve ever tasted. It was rich, and full bodied. With dark berry tones and hints of vani. Tart, but not dry. Sweet, yet not overpowering. It was <i>ambrosia</i>.¡±


    ¡°That good?¡±


    I turned a baleful eye on him. ¡°Ya damn well know what I mean. That was the best thing I¡¯ve ever tasted. How tha¡¯ <i>hell </i>was it made??¡±


    Joseph¡¯s eyes crinkled. ¡°That¡¯s proprietary.¡±


    ¡°What does it matter if no one else can make it?¡± Godsdammit, I wanted to know how that nectar was made! If Barck had elven wine, why tha¡¯ hell did he anything else? ¡°And it could have possibilities for beer brewing!¡±


    Joseph waved me back to his office and I followed on stumbling feet. I practically plopped down onto my chair, then grabbed the empty ss next to it and scanned it desperately for any drops left on the surface. I licked it to make sure, much to Joseph¡¯s amusement. I noted that he¡¯d gone and hidden the bottle. <i>Bastard</i>.


    ¡°Perhaps if you went to the Winery and asked, Master Romero would be willing to share. You <i>are </i>the Forefather of Brewing. Perhaps that would mean something to him.¡±


    I flushed. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearin¡¯ that from some of tha¡¯ craft brewers. Can¡¯t say I like it. First Brewer is a way cooler moniker.¡±


    Joseph shrugged. ¡°We can¡¯t control how people perceive us. While the First Brewer may have invented the Sacred Brew, you are undoubtedly the one that made it avable to everyone.¡±


    I raised a shaking finger in his direction, then took a moment to try and orient it. ¡°Hey, Greybough Consortium is the one sellin¡¯ all the brewin¡¯ books.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a legal fiction and everyone knows it, Pete.¡± Joseph chuckled. ¡°But I am serious about the chance to meet Romero. I¡¯ll even put in a good word for you.¡±


    I looked down at my shaking hands and actually, <i>seriously</i>, considered the offer for the first time. Seeing all the different architecture at the embassies had really driven home how little of this fantasy world I¡¯d seen. If they were offering up a chance to travel on thepany dime, why was I so quick to say no? And all I had to do was teach some dwarves and elves how to brew beer? It sounded like a <i>great</i> idea. One I should be all over.


    But, we¡¯d just had a whole grumble about how tired everyone was of all the chaos and drama. While it would undoubtedly be <i>fun</i>, there¡¯d also be meetings with elvish nobility and possibly cranky dwarven locals.


    But¡­ I looked back at my shaking hand, and closed my eyes trying to recall the taste of that <i>glorious </i>wine.


    ¡°It really sticks to you, doesn¡¯t it. I still remember my first taste.¡± Joseph¡¯s voice came from far off.


    ¡°Aye¡­¡± My voice and thoughts trailed off as my mind wandered back to that singr perfect moment.


    Joseph made polite noises about an appointment, which I barely registered as I plodded out the door with promises to get back to himter in the week. I moved forward one step at a time, barely registering where I was going. Thank goodness I¡¯d set [Wayfinder] at the entrance, since I couldn¡¯t even see straight, let alone navigate all the signage.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the vition.


    When I was out on the street, I had to stop and sit for a while, as the chaos of Redwall traffic was a bit too much for my addled wits. When I could finally think straight, I headed back to City Hall to get Penelope.


    She was impatiently thumping her horns against the door of her kennel when I arrived, and she nailed me with an angry eye. *Baaaahhhh!!!* [Tranted from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°How dare you abandon your princess in her hour of need!?¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Yeah, yeah, sorry Penelope. I¡¯ll give you a goat treat when we get home, not that you need more ya greedy guts. I can barely get tha harness around you anymore!¡±


    She sauntered out and paused as she passed me, giving a mighty sniff. *MAAAAHhh!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°WHAT IS THAT MOST HEAVENLY OF SCENTS!?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± I backed away.


    n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    *Baaahhh!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Are you cheating on me with other alcohols??¡±


    I patted her on the head and rubbed where she liked behind the ears to try and distract her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Penelope. It¡¯s nothing. I swear, you¡¯re the only one for me.¡±


    She butted me in the stomach, and my breath whooshed out. *Meeh!!* [Tranted From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°You dare lie to me varlet? Speak, or forever be ashamed!¡±


    I backed up, holding a hand out defensively. ¡°Penlope, Penelope, I just had a little drink. There wasn¡¯t any to share, or I¡¯d have brought you some, believe me! It was just a sip!¡±


    She advanced on me, glowering, an angry bleat growing in the back of her throat.


    ¡°Um,¡± a voice interrupted. We both looked up. A bruised and bandaged stablehand was standing at the other end of the barn, looking confused. ¡°What¡¯re you doin¡¯ with that goat?¡±


    His voice turned hopeful.


    ¡°Are you takin¡¯ her?¡±


    ¡ª


    The trip home was a bit huffier than the trip here. I kept nodding off while remembering the wine, and Penelope kept getting angry at me whenever I did. I had to hope it wasn¡¯t a long-term thing. Was elven wine addictive? Surely I would''ve gotten a notification.


    I arrived back home and shuffled Penelope to the kitchen and made her Bran¡¯s problem. Then I meandered up to the office in the manor house. Annie was holed up in there with Balin. It was the year 8001 now and it was tax time, so she was putting paperwork in order.


    ¡°Hallo Pete.¡± Balin waved happily as I entered, then his face turned grim. ¡°You okay, brother?¡±


    ¡°Pete?¡± Annie asked, standing up and walking over to me. She peered into my eyes, felt my forehead, and frowned. ¡°What happened to <i>you</i>?¡±


    ¡°I had some elven wine¡­¡± I muttered.


    ¡°What, the pointy-ears drink?¡± Balin grinned. ¡°How did itpare to real brew?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories,¡± Annie began.


    ¡°It was incredible.¡± I groaned, copsing into the office couch. I buried my face into a throw pillow. ¡°Better than anything I¡¯ve ever tasted. No beer, wine, sherry, whiskey, rum or liqueur evenes close.¡±


    Balin gawped. ¡°You, Peter Roughtuff. Master of the Unsacred Brew. Lord of Beer. Forefather of Brewin¡¯. <i>You </i>think wine is better than beer.¡±


    I groaned louder. ¡°I knew about ¡®Forefather of Beer¡¯. <i>Please</i> tell me they aren¡¯t calling me that other stuff too.¡±


    Balin guffawed, Annie giggled, I briefly, and viciously, considered telling her she was the reincarnation of the First Brewer, but kept my beard straight. Barely.


    I made a rude gesture instead. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not lyin¡¯, it really was the greatest thing I¡¯ve ever tasted. And Caroline and I shared a $4,000 bottle of ¡®04 Roman¨¦e-Conti the week after our daughter graduated high-school and left for college.¡±


    Annie sat forward with interest, her humour vanishing with the promise of interesting new alcohol facts. ¡°Ooh, a bottle of what?¡±


    I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling, remembering. ¡°It was a velveteen Burgundy Pinot Noir with notes of cherry. We paired it with a roast veal and mushrooms. I always considered it tha best wine I ever drank, outside of our own of course!¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know those words, Pete. What¡¯s a Rhumey Coney? An arthritic rabbit? And an ¡®04?¡± Balin piped up. Annie nodded vigorously, pulling out her brewing notebook.


    Ah well, anything to get my mind off¡­ things.


    ¡°The easiest to exin is the ¡®04. That refers to the vintage, or age, of the wine.¡±


    ¡°So a ¡®04 was four years old? That¡¯s quite old for a drink!¡± Annie said with a note of surprise.


    ¡°Um, no, wine and other stronger spirits can be fermented, or <i>aged, </i>for a <i>very</i> long time. The ¡®04 stands for 2004. It was closer to ten years old when we drank it.¡±


    Annie would¡¯ve done a spit-take if she could. ¡°Ten years old!?¡±


    I gave her a weak smile. ¡°One of the most famous wines is a set of two thousand bottles pulled out of a shipwreck on the bottom of the sea. They were 1907 Heidecks, and weren¡¯t uncorked until 1997. They sold fer, well, enough to buy a house. Each.¡±


    Annie did some quick math and paled. ¡°Ny years? Didn¡¯t they go bad?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Wine can be aged for up to a hundred years. However, most vintners agree that it¡¯s best to drink it within twenty. Heck, one is often more than enough. The vintage tells more than just age though; certain vintages are considered ¡®better¡¯ than others. Perhaps the grape flesh was especially plump, or the grape skins were especially tart. For whatever reason, that year is just tastier, and thus more valuable than others. That¡¯s called a ¡®good year¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Enough about gettin¡¯ old. I still want ta know about the arthritic rabbit!¡± Balin butted in.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Not Rheumy Coney. Roman¨¦e-Conti. It¡¯s a vineyard in the country of France, and considered one of tha greatest vineyards, if not <i>the</i> greatest vineyard in tha world. It¡¯s from tha Burgundy region of France, and certain wines from that region, like Pinot Noirs, are called ¡®Burgundys¡¯. A good year can go fer upwards of, well, <i>way</i> more than I could afford.¡±


    ¡°Greater than yours?¡± Annie asked, with one raised eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯d acknowledge that.¡±


    ¡°Just because I¡¯m better than many, if not most <i>dwarven</i> brewers, doesn''t mean I was the best wine brewer, or even beer brewer back in my world. I would¡¯ve called myself <i>good</i>, better than decent, but not the <i>best</i>.¡± Izily flicked at her with a ¡®shoo¡¯ gesture.


    ¡°And what¡¯s that Pinot Noir you mentioned?¡± Annie jotted something down in her notebook and gave me side-eye as she did.


    I was getting bored of this. I wanted to sleep and remember that wine. ¡°Grapes. Pinot Noir is a type of grape. And Pinot Noir wine is a red wine made with pinot noir grapes. Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Red wine? There¡¯s more than one kind of wine?¡±


    ¡°Aye. <i>Lots </i>of whining these days.¡± I mumbled.


    ¡°Pete?¡±


    ¡°S¡¯not my fault¡­. go bother Aqua¡­.¡± I yawned, rolled over, and fell asleep.


    To dreams of bungee jumping from elven tree houses, wine ss in hand, while being chased by a screaming goat.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!