《Beers and Beards Book 4: Nothin' But Brew Skies》 Book 1, Prologue ¡°Pete, dish ta¡¯ table four!¡± ¡°Got it!¡± I took the plate, 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 . 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 with laughter and merriment and waved down a few invitations to join in. ¡°Here¡¯s your food! Beer-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 black, 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 place, 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 a labourer, likely fresh from the mines and hankering to try some food from the city¡¯s most notorious and popular new establishment.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Glad 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 can¡¯t believe it¡¯s made with beer!¡± I chuckled. ¡°Aye, we have a few dishes that use beer in the recipe. 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 flattery. 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 New Brew.¡± This was another sight I¡¯d grown accustomed to. I leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°Aye, we do. A few actually, would ya like to try one?¡± ¡°Aye! But in a plain 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 beerly live without them!¡± I waggled my enormously shaggy eyebrows. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Never mind. One ale coming 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 death could stop me from brewing.¡± We laughed together, but the laughter 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. Book 1, Chapter 1: Trouble is Brewing 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 my little daughter Samantha, now a young woman freshly graduated from college, held my hand. Her brown eyes peered at me with laughter, 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 smelled 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 deadpanned, and then coughed as the act of speaking irritated the tubes in my throat. ¡°Where¡¯s your mother?¡± ¡°Ugh, that was awful. Mom is talking to the head nurse. Should I tell her you¡¯re awake?¡± She turned to the door. I shook my head and looked out the window beside my bed. It was a beautiful sunny day outside, and I could hear some geese honking on the lawn. I always hated the vicious buggers when they crapped all over my vineyard, but their warbling 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, it was a terrible day to die, but it was a good day to die. Terminal brain cancer in your late forties sucked. I barely got to watch my kid graduate and now the metaphorical rug got pulled out from under me. It happened so fast ¨C I was out picking grapes under the hot sun when I had a dizzy spell and collapsed. The last few weeks were a blur of doctors, tests, tears, and making final plans. The company would be going to my vice-president for a tidy sum, Samantha got the car and my darling redheaded wife got everything else. Including the crushing pain of suddenly losing her husband after twenty years of marriage. Sorry dear. Looks like we won¡¯t be spending our fifties going on cruises together. I laid my head down and closed my eyes, reminiscing. First was mead. A fun thing to pass the time in business school that rapidly turned into a side hustle. A girl I met at a frosh party, sprawled on a blanket in a cherry sundress with a slight flush from an Earl Grey Mead. Caroline, her lips pulled back in a honeyed smile. Then came beer. Playing percentages with hops while experimenting with bitters, sours, and ales. I chose a name, and Caroline drew the logo, a goofy buck-toothed moose for Beavermoose Brewery. The originals were 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 from the still as it exploded was nothing compared 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; three kilos 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 got lauded on live TV by a hockey star. Some influencers started reviewing it, and suddenly ¨C we were big. I bought a ten acre from a retiree, and we converted a barn on the property into a microbrewery. Soon I had staff and bills, God so many bills. I¡¯m dying, why am I sitting here thinking about bills? Must be the geese¡­ The whole company celebrated the night we shipped our first full flat to the liquor stores. Caroline and I popped some bubbly and then we had a crazy thought. \\\ It¡¯s getting hard to breathe. Where¡¯s Caroline with the nurse? Why is Sammy yelling? \\\ From that thought came wine. I tilled the field alongside the apiary and planted some grapes. Our little slice of paradise in the Okanagan Valley was perfect for growing them, and I visited a few neighbouring 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, fifteen 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 proclaimed Veritas Vinum Vineyard. \\\ I wasn¡¯t¡­ joking about the bury me in grapes bit. Sammy? Are you there? \\\ \\\ It was our veritas¡­ our truth¡­. I hope¡­.\\\ \\\ Carol are¡­. \\\ \\\ Sammy? \\\ \\\ ¡­ \\\ ¡ª ¡°Doc!¡± A gruff voice called next to my ear. ¡°He¡¯s wakin¡¯ up!¡± My eyes peeled open, and a splitting headache immediately snapped them back shut. Gawd! I knew brain cancer hurt, but that felt more like my sinuses being ripped out! The acrid scent of the hospital had¡­ changed. It smelled quite strongly of sulphur. The sound of the geese was replaced with the sound of... hammers? What was going on?If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Gods damned fool! What was he thinkin¡¯, stickin¡¯ his head into a freschie?¡± another voice on the other side of the bed grumbled in a gruff ¡­ Scottish accent? No, that wasn¡¯t quite right. I groaned as a wide calloused hand was placed 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 accounts.¡± ¡°Of course, Grim. Send a runner to Healer Bastion if he gets worse. I¡¯ve done all I can and would be the next step.¡± There was a weird inflection on the word ¡®Healer.¡¯ Heaaaler? HEAler? [Healer]? ¡°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 it. 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 squinted my eyes to peer 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. Handlebar even had an iron helmet on. What the heck? 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 slate and the floor was made of worked blue stone with patterns carved into it. The ceiling overhead was the same slate as the wall and a metal lantern hanging over my bed gave off a soft yellow light. Where was the window? Where was Sammy? ¡°You okay, 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 sulphur 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 the beards, and the accent¡­ Oh my God! These guys looked JUST like dwarves! They were short and squat, with whiskers nearly half their height! Was this a cosplay convention or something?! That was when I glanced at the mirror and a short, squat, reddish-brown-bearded dwarf peered back at me from the bed with bleary black eyes. I may have passed out again. ¡ª Grim sighed as labourer Balin Roughtuff, No. 30865 helped labourer Peter Samson, No. 30895 spoon some porridge into his mouth. He¡¯d almost run to fetch the Healer before Balin stopped him. Pete¡¯s breathing had been fine and he seemed to have fainted from exhaustion. He eventually woke up again, but seemed listless and confused, muttering about ¡®Sammy¡¯ and ¡®Karul.¡¯ Nobody in the camp had those names. Perhaps some people from his past? Not even a week into the new year, and already a major accident. Barck¡¯s Beard, that didn¡¯t bode well for the rest of the year. As the foreman for the Dwarven City of Minnova Reform Mine, Grim¡¯s job was not the most glamorous. At least it paid well, and he¡¯d even received his first Blessing! Most of the indentured not-quite-prisoners were paying off bills from fights in the city or were vagrants without a copper to their name. A few months to years in the reform 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 a 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 miner who found a new vein or ¨C Gods forbid ¨C a gem cache, could become rich overnight. The Ordinances were quite strict about fair compensation! Chapter 32, Section 4, Subsection 12c in fact! Which meant there was no reason for the damn fool to stick his head into the tunnel to check! Grim had gone to ask the [Whisperer] to check the local aether for to find the small crew clamouring around the unconscious form of Pete. He had called for Doc Opal, who declared it to be sulphur 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 City Hall. 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 a large sulphur deposit. Sulphur had some uses, but it wasn¡¯t as though the populace 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 of True Brew from Browning Brewery, and it had quite a kick! After a moment¡¯s thought he poured some for Pete and Balin too. They¡¯d all had a rough day, and Pete would be all the worse after Doc Opal¡¯s bill got added to his indenture. Grim filled a trio of large iron tankards studded with fine oak wood and passed them off to Pete and Balin. ¡°To Minnova, the Firmament, and the luck of fools!¡± He and Balin bellowed, though Pete simply raised his mug. Grim downed his drink and revelled in the fresh nutty flavour. Balin¡¯s eyes twinkled beneath his bushy brows as the alcohol hit him. Pete spat his beer in a spray across the both of them, soaking their beards, and yelled in a deep baritone, ¡°WHAT THE HELL!?¡± ¡ª I could barely follow what was happening. I was a dwarf? I was an indentured labourer? In Minnova? Where the hell is that? 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 ale. He and Balin made some kind of toast to dirt and then pulled. That¡¯s right, dwarves were supposed to be big drinkers, and master crafters of beers and ales, right? At least I could drown my sorrows in fine alcohol. I shot the drink back myself, before spitting it out in an atomized arc. ¡°WHAT THE HELL!?¡± Dwarves drank WATERY BEER!?
Book 1, Chapter 2: I was reincarnated as a dwarf but all the beer is bad! Dwarf¡¯s Log, Deathdate 003 These are the voyages of the starsoul 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 trapped in the body of a dwarf named Pete Samson. Samson arrived in the city of Minnova about three 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 after my untimely demise on Earth. I am working in the City of Minnova Reform 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, 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 deep canyon of shit. After the sulphur and spit debacle I got put on punishment duty by Grim. Goods from the mine were carted down to the city by unigoats, and nobody had cleaned the manure pit in ages because¡­ dwarves. Seriously, some of this stuff was 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 around the fourth time I got blackout drunk in college. Hell? Purgatory? I certainly wasn¡¯t expecting a small mining camp filled with boisterous and outgoing, if slightly surly, hairy alcoholics. And my God, the alcohol! It was sour with a bitter aftertaste, had almost no alcohol content, and left my mouth feeling filmy. It¡¯s SO BAD, and they¡¯re drinking it ALL THE TIME! They even call it the Sacred Brew. Wake up? Take a drink. Break? Take a drink. Lunch? Take a drink. Go mining? 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 percent actual 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. It¡¯s a cultural institution, and the idea that it could be better is completely foreign to them. ¡°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 of the pit. ¡°¡®Ave yer memories come back?¡± Balin asked, as he took a step back. His handlebar moustache quivered at the stench wafting from the manure pit. We both looked to the side as the sound of rumbling drew our attention. Another pair of dwarves, Annie and Wreck, pushed a massive cart filled with ore past us. A total of twenty dwarves lived in the camp: sixteen miners, the warden Grim, Doc Opal, Speaker John, and Whisperer Gemma. Doc Opal was the one who saved me from sulphur poisoning, and she¡¯s also the one helping take care of my ¡®amnesia,¡¯ or as she calls it, ¡°damage to the spirit.¡± I was pretty sure ¡°spirit¡± referred to my mind and soul, so wasn¡¯t that a comforting thought? ¡°Not yet,¡± I replied to Balin as I washed my hands in a trough. ¡°Nothin¡¯ in yer Status Sheet?¡± Balin kept his distance as I washed up, his eyes tracking Annie. Last night he confided to me in a drunken stupor that Annie had ¡°the finest beard this side of Crack,¡± whatever that means. It is a really nice beard though, long and silky with finely woven tresses and a Dali moustache. She was one of the few blonde dwarves as well; the rest of the miners were mostly brunettes with only Doc Opal and Speaker John having white hair. Yes, female dwarves did have beards and moustaches. Contrary to certain pop-culture, it was still possible to tell them apart. Their beard hair was usually softer and downier than the males, and they had softer, more feminine facial features. Some discrete questioning revealed they also had breasts, but traditional dwarven clothing favoured chest-flattening armour. I replied as I opened my ¡­ Status Sheet ¡­ by intoning ¡®status¡¯ in my head. A slightly translucent blue box appeared in my vision with a cheerful *Bing!*
Status: Provided by the Firmament Name: Peter Phillips Samson Age: 48 Conditions: None Race: Dwarf Blessings: None Title: None Milestones: [Otherworlder] Strength: 12 Vitality: 12 Agility: 10 Dexterity: 11 Wisdom: 12 Intelligence: 10 Perception: 13 Charisma: 8
I focused on [Otherworlder] and another little blue box popped up.
[Otherworlder] ¨C Your spirit has found a new spark! Your mental statistics have been replaced with their previous values, and you are more likely to gain Blessings and Milestones!
If [Otherworlder] meant what I thought it did, my current intelligence, wisdom, perception, and charisma were based off their values from Earth. As a college grad, I felt my intelligence should have been higher, but I was essentially a child when it came to local knowledge. At least my ¡®amnesia¡¯ made it easy to ask questions that everybody should already know. ¡°Nope, no Conditions. Run it by me, Balin. What do these numbers actually mean? Practically speaking?¡± ¡°Midna¡¯s Mullet, Pete, how much did ya ferget? A youngster¡¯s about an eight in each stat, and an adult has around ten. Every additional point is just a bit stronger than the last.¡± Balin was always willing to give a hand and was only a slightly sappy drunk. ¡°Strength is how much you can lift and how hard ya can hit. Vitality is how well ya can hold yer beer! Agility is fer runnin¡¯ and movin¡¯, while dexterity is about fine coordination. Wisdom is tricky, since you can always ignore tha voice that says ¡®don¡¯t stick yer head in a freschie!¡¯ Ha! Intelligence is book smarts, perception is spottin¡¯ things, and charisma keeps ya from spittin¡¯ beer all over yer mates!¡± ¡°Hardy, har. So, if I got my strength up to one hundred, could I smash solid stone apart with my bare fist?¡± That sounded pretty cool! ¡°Nah, yer limit¡¯s ¡®bout a thirty-two in any stat. You¡¯d need Abilities or Conditions ta go higher, and even then, it won¡¯t be by much. Every four stat points is around one and a half times as strong, so a person with sixteen strength would be half again stronger than someone with twelve.¡± That put me at mostly average, with good wisdom and perception, and shit charisma. I wouldn¡¯t have called myself uncharismatic back on Earth, so maybe it had to do with how I compared to everyone else in this new world? I admit that I¡¯ve made a ton of social faux pas since I got here. Or maybe it¡¯s just the dad jokes.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Balin and I continued to chat about my status as we walked towards the mess hall. He was still wearing the same leather armour that all the miners wore, including me. It was comfy and helped protect against the sharp edges of stone in the mining tunnels. Oh, and it helped against monster attacks, because of course those were a thing. A couple more dwarves walked past in the other direction, likely headed to the mining tunnels. They nodded to us as they passed, the manacles on their arms twinkling in the light. I looked down at my own metal shackles. While we were technically not ¡®prisoners,¡¯ it was functionally the same. Outside of a few rare vacation days, we were not allowed to leave the mine until we completed our indenture. The manacles were magical and would notify Grim if we tried to leave the mine. I felt like a prisoner, but the dwarven legal codes were very clear that I was not. It was just another thing about this place that was alien to my sensibilities. In my eyes we were all members of the chain-gang; I should really start teaching everyone the blues. Speaking of alien, I looked up to the ¡®night sky¡¯ above us. While we were technically underground, a ceiling was actually a couple hundred metres above us. A luminescent moss on the roof gave the impression of an ethereal starry night that lasted the whole day. Rivers of blue-white light flowed every which way through the cavern like a multitude of milky ways. The effect was pretty amazing, and I often spent the evening looking at the ¡®stars¡¯ after everyone else had passed out from drinking. The space was massive, and several other mining outposts could be spotted in the distance ¨C lights in the dark. Each mining outpost was a small collection of buildings with the actual mining tunnels snaking beneath them. A few mountains dotted the landscape, monoliths that loomed out of the dim twilight. Our camp was actually on top of one of them, and the city of Minnova could be seen far below us to the south, in the centre of the cavern. An enormous purple crystal hanging above the city filled the entire cavern with a soft glow. It was too far to make out any details, but Minnova seemed fairly mediaeval, with tall walls and a large palace at its centre. We reached the mess hall in short order, which was a large, nondescript stone building with lights of some kind festooned around it. They didn¡¯t have electricity around here, so the lights were a mystery for another time. Balin took a deep sniff as we went through the door. ¡°Ach, smells great!¡± The interior of the mess hall was laid out almost exactly like a school cafeteria back home, with a door to the kitchen, a food service counter, and a lot of wooden picnic-style tables with benches. A stage was set up against one side for Grim to make announcements, and one table at the back was reserved for the permanent staff, like Doc Opal or Speaker John. It was lunch time, which meant sandwiches with a slice of lettuce, goat cheese, and chicken breast. It was pretty tasty, and I was continually surprised by the quality of our ¡®cafeteria fare.¡¯ Balin grabbed a plate from the short-bearded dwarf handing out food. ¡°Thankee, Bran. Looks delicious as always.¡± Bran gave an acknowledging nod, his black bristle moustache quivering. ¡°I added my special sauce today. It¡¯s a treat for the Blessin¡¯ party. Annie got Blessed!¡± ¡°Ach, good for her!¡± Balin¡¯s eyes sparkled. ¡°She deserves it!¡± We sat down next to a trio of dwarves who ignored us to continue their argument about the superiority of axes over swords. The sandwich was a perfect ratio of filling to bread and crunched between my teeth. I closed my eyes and appreciated the flavour of roasted chicken mixed with slightly melted cheese. Bran¡¯s special sauce was a tangy white cream sauce that reminded me of a standard bechamel sauce. A hard day of work shovelling poop would make anything taste good, but Bran really spoiled us. Most dwarves were messy eaters, and I snickered as I glanced down the line of tables. Twenty dwarves were joyfully devouring their sandwiches, each with a near identical dribble of white sauce flowing down their beard. Balin made joyful munching sounds beside me and gave an *mmm* of happiness. ¡°Bran¡¯s secret sauce is sooo good! I wonder how he makes it!¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pretty standard white sauce. I could probably figure it out.¡± Balin gave me a wide-eyed look. ¡°How would ya know that!?¡± I turned the topic of our conversation towards the news instead. ¡°Annie got Blessed, eh? You said that Grim and Opal are Blessed too?¡± ¡°Aye, Grim¡¯s Blessed by Lunara for all his ¡®ard work as Mine Manager, and Doc Opal¡¯s twice Blessed by Archis and Lunara. That makes ¡®er a Titled [Doctor]!¡± Apparently, Gods were real here, and they each embodied a pair of the fundamentals of reality and civilization, or the Firmament. I couldn¡¯t keep them all straight yet, but I did know Barck was the God of Spark and Innovation and Tiara was the Goddess of Matter and Possessions. Barck got called on a lot because his Blessing was [Good Luck], and Tiara because she was the Goddess of Gems and everyone wanted to strike it rich. I wondered what Blessing Annie got. It looked like we were about to find out, as Grim walked up onto the stage. ¡°Cheers, you rascals!¡± Grim shouted. ¡°We managed to exceed our 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 congratulations to Annie for receivin¡¯ a Blessing from Barck!¡± The crowd erupted into cheers and splashes as dwarves clinked glasses. Annie stood up to the applause, 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 applause died down. ¡°I noticed that the minecart wheels kept seizing up from dust when we spent a lot of time in the tunnels, so I designed a new grease using sap from dungeon vines. It worked, and Barck gave me his Blessing!¡± There was a fresh round of cheering and clinking of glasses. I tapped on Balin¡¯s shoulder as people went up to congratulate Annie. He was staring wistfully at her and turned a distracted eye back towards me. ¡°Dungeon?¡± I asked. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s tha main reason that Minnova is built ¡®ere. There¡¯s a plant dungeon down below the city. It¡¯s the main source of our veggies. Killer Cabbages an¡¯ Peashooters, an¡¯ others. There¡¯s an ¡®ole lotta gold to be made down there.¡± ¡°Killer, what-now?¡± I asked, looking at the leafy greens on my sandwich. Had I been eating monstrous vegetables? ¡°Killer cabbages, they¡¯re full o¡¯ vitamins 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 on my beer as well. I¡¯d almost prefer water to this swill, but apparently nobody down here drank water. It was all beer and sometimes goat milk, though that¡¯s apparently for kids. Of both kinds. They¡¯ve only got two kinds of beer. The ale ¨C True Brew, and a lager ¨C Light Brew. There¡¯re no stouts, no IPAs, no sours, nothing that could be considered a craft beer at all. My tankard was currently full of slightly flat Light Brew. It was completely the wrong glass for this kind of beer. A lager should at the very least be served in a shaker ¨C or pint ¨C glass, 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. At least the actual sandwich was good. 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, no. 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 duty 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, fine ¨C lots of people don¡¯t like beer ¨C but at least dwarven craft beer would no longer be stuck in boozy limbo. First though, I had to get out of this stupid mine. I mulled it over 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 would come back to this later; 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 black mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circular marble table covered by a complex 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 beastfolk. One of them, a white porcelain dwarf holding a tankard, tentatively slid across the board. Book 3, Chapter 74: Iris Barnes Tourmaline led me through the city to the gates of Blackwall. Unlike when I came here with Bran, the guards didn¡¯t even try 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 Blackwall. 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 Great Charter.¡± I gave her a side eye. ¡°I heard from Schist that you¡¯ve been helping him behind tha scenes.¡± Tourmaline nodded. ¡°He is much 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.¡± ¡°Excuse me??¡± ¡°You are excused.¡± ¡°Fiiiine, we can keep sending updates. What¡¯s tha plan?¡± 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 popular 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 and laws for the nobility.¡± ¡°Any chance I could get into one ¡®a those?¡± I asked. ¡°I have ta boot Louis Blackbeard in the nards.¡± Tourmaline arched an eyebrow. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Do I need a reason? He¡¯s Louis Blackbeard. But if you must know, I made a promise.¡± ¡°A worthy promise. Unfortunately, after he betrayed Harmsson, Louis has become 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 to come. 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 what 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 were stopped at the gates by a pair of guards in black 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 were large 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¡­ undwarven.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Tourmaline said. ¡°And rude.¡± ¡°How do you deal with it?¡± I asked. ¡°I sequester myself in my laboratory and avoid public spaces as much as possible.¡± Tourmaline sniffed. With her guidance we soon arrived at a large 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. A large fountain, likely fed by the Darkwater somewhere far below us, sprayed water up to the ceiling before arcing down in scintillating rainbows. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Nice place.¡± I gulped. We were the only people in the large space, and it felt ominous. ¡°The Court of Nobles. There are a lot of magical defenses hidden in here.¡± Tourmaline said, nonchalantly 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, placing her hand against a blank wall. My Manasight and regular 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 twisted. 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 ¡¯ave combed over every tunnel in Whitewall by now.¡± ¡°There are hidden spaces like this all over Whitewall. Knowing where they are isn''t overly helpful.¡± Tourmaline declared, ¡°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 anyone. I went and activated dwarves 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. Godsdamn! 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 similar to Opal¡¯s. The room was comfortable, but plain, with no ornamentation or decorations. A single dwarfess lay in repose on the bed. It was easy to see who Tourmaline got her beauty from. Iris Barnes had the same platinum curls and smooth porcelain skin as her daughter. Her beard was well brushed and maintained, though not in any particular 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 valkyrie. 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. Black 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. That last 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 declared. ¡°But he knows Peter, and he trusts him.¡± I kept my eyebrows tamped down. He did? ¡°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 planned, first.¡± Tourmaline looked cross, but I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s fair. I have a fate manipulation Ability.¡± The [Healer]¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Those are exceedingly 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 plenty. 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 vile, 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!*
[Karmic Reversal] Reverse the fate of [Iris Barnes]? Fate will resume its course in one day. Do you accept? Yes/No
I mentally hit ¡®Yes¡¯ as I shouted. ¡°Now!¡± Frowning, Beatrice placed 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 black 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 becoming limp as a wet rag. I noticed with relief that her chest was still moving up and down, and the black 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 blazing. 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 glanced down at the bed and her white medical gown. ¡°What am I wearing??¡± 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 in companionable silence. Okay, I may have cried a bit, too. Book 3, Chapter 75: India Pale Ale ¡°I have completed 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 engineering company that makes beer than a brewing company.¡± ¡°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. ¡°REALLY strong beer!¡± ¡°HAH!¡± Aqua shrieked with laughter. ¡°Can we be a bit more serious.¡± Annie pulled the room¡¯s attention to her. ¡°I know we¡¯re all coming down from an adrenaline high after the events of the last 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 into laughter. ¡°Did you really not come 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 date with Tourmaline!¡± Aqua giggled. ¡°Good for him!¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t a date!¡± I protested. ¡°It was just two friends hanging out.¡± ¡°Is that why you came back so late?¡± 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, really angry.¡± I was met with blank stares. Johnsson was the first to speak. ¡°You¡¯re serious? Really!?¡± I nodded. ¡°She¡¯s speaking to the Council of Greybeards right now. She claims 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 that¡¯s a theme! And against the biggest restaurant in Kinshasa too, The Smug Snapper.¡± 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 [Barck¡¯s Great Gourmand]. It¡¯ll be a hard fight.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°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 since comin¡¯ 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 human lands, the beastfolk are not more than slaves. 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 relative 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¡¯ will come 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 clap. 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 isolate the gluten proteins in barley and replace them with pork proteins about 95% of the time. So we could make a barley beer, which may be more palatable 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 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 hours later 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, ever 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, ¡®student¡¯? 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 scintillating 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 particular? Why not just a regular 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 popular, 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 needed beer to survive the grueling conditions of the British Navy. But trips could take months.¡± ¡°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 plant,¡± 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 Accountant¡¯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 will last as far as we can send it. To each corner of Crack and even to the human lands and the south. No rare Teleportation Abilities or expensive alchemical components 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 we 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?¡± I complained. ¡°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 become 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¡­ Showtime. 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 accused the Patriarch of Clan Blackbeard, the Duke of the North, as the culprit in her poisoning, and things got really 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 Blackbeard be given the same punishment as any other dwarf under the Ordinances while protests rose over the mistreatment of those living in Blackbeard held lands. 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 populace on his side, and he¡¯d also co-opted Harmsson¡¯s people while Tourmaline had surprising sway amongst the young nobility who didn¡¯t 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, Curdly Fries!¡± I eyed him warily. ¡°That¡¯s it? Not ¡®Bran¡¯s Sloppy Weiner¡±? Bran laughed, his belly heaving. ¡°What would give you an idea like that!¡± ¡°No reason.¡± I took a bite from the plate 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 recommended corned beef, or slices of goat by the way.¡± ¡°Found the wieners were tha most popular 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 placed 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. Flapjacks 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 restaurants committed sacrilege by making Poutine using shredded cheddar, and were then burned to the ground by necessity. The curds were placed cold on a bed of steaming blanched 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 spiced lamb 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¡¯m going to need therapy after watching you eat.¡± Annie clapped her hands. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get things over with. Poor Whistlemop refuses to come 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!!* [Translated 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, really, 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. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°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 he lay 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!!* [Translated from Primma Donna Goat] ¡°What is this garbage you lay before me!?¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. 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 the last one in the line she sniffed it, turned to leave, then bent back to lap 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 the last of the bowl, burped, then waltzed out of the brewroom without so much as a backwards glance. ¡°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 very much an IPA, with a definite kick from the bitter aftertaste. It finally lacked 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 it later. It tasted like home. ¡°Ooooh, I think the gnomes will love 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 and complaints 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 a large 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 there lad. You¡¯re looking well, eh?¡± It was the Eastern accent that did it. My stomach dropped out and my face froze. ¡°Sam,¡± I said, my mouth tight. ¡°Or should I call you father.¡± ¡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 accomplished 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 Guard 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¡¯d come 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 noncommitted. ¡°Where is 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 accusing. ¡°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 playin¡¯ 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 should come see ya, see if things changed over time. It can be dangerous, and downright unethical in that kinda situation ta just up and say, ¡®Hey look, it¡¯s yer Pa!¡¯ so I just planted 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 and companions. 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 blades, and my hand inched for my war hammer. Sam waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I¡¯m not plannin¡¯ 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, lad. You¡¯ve got the blood of Sam Barrelbow in you, and that hasn¡¯t changed. Souls come and go on Erd, and I¡¯ve been watchin¡¯ you for a while. I think yer somethin¡¯ special, and I¡¯m glad 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, clasped me tight in a hug and walked out the door. I stared after him in consternation. That had not 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.
Status: Provided by the Firmament Name: Peter Roughtuff Age: 51 Conditions: Race: Dwarf Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [Flash of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Map], [Refine Brew], [Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye], [Lesser Arcane Crafting] Title: [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter] Milestones: [Power Pick], [Basic Slash], [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] Strength: 19.8 Vitality: 22 Agility: 14.2 Dexterity: 15.4 Wisdom: 15.4 Intelligence: 19.4 Perception: 18.4 Charisma: 21
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 plan. Of course, said plan required me to spend nearly every waking moment in the brewroom using [Rapid Aging] and casting [Barley to Bacon]. So it was a shit plan. Why did the shit plans always go to plan? Why couldn¡¯t my plan to spend a relaxing year brewing and having fun go to plan, 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 populace. 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 weeks later, it was practically a relief. All our hard work from the past two years had come down to this. Annie was dressed in her finest dress armor as she laid 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 becoming the best brewers in all the land. ¡°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 was coming 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. More complications. 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 Blackbeards.¡± Annie said. ¡°Opal mentioned there¡¯ve been a lot of emergency closed door meetings of the Council of Greybeards. Something big is 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 be laaaate!!!¡± 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 provide the beer, not serve it. It¡¯ll be fine, now stop hyperventilating, you¡¯re making me 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 noise coming 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¡¯ emblazoned on the side. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the restaurant that Bran¡¯s competing against?¡± ¡°It is.¡± Annie frowned. ¡°We 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 cellar.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°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, very, 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. A large iron helmet sat a little too large 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 just leaving to get us seats! You say, you¡¯re 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 accent was very close to Crackian standard, without the more measured tone of most gnomes. I gave Kirk a plaintive look and he blinked innocently. ¡°Excuse me, I have to ask.¡± Annie said, staring at Lapis with open shock. ¡°Are you really 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 explains 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 Clan, 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, lax when it comes 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 who we were, rather than what 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 emblazoned 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 it complimented the slightly sweet taste of the breading perfectly. The fish inside was shredded and had a somewhat rubbery texture that complimented the flaky 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 desperate last ditch attempt from the Snapper 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 our competition entry. Literally 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 available 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 the last beer you tasted¡¯.¡± Lapis¡¯s grin somehow grew wider. ¡°So it tastes like every other beer in Crack. It¡¯s hellishly expensive to make, we lost so much Gold, 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 get made a Lady? Hah!!¡± Annie and I gave each other worried looks as Lapis¡¯s laughter echoed through the tunnels beneath the stadium. We still had this in the bag¡­ right? Book 3, Chapter 78: The Kinshasa Drinking Contest We walked up to join everyone in a black 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 was coming 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¡¯s latest bull 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 you later.¡± 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 the last time I¡¯d been at a drinking contest, I noted with approval, and none of them were black-robed Master Brewers. The arena was sand, just like Minnova, but this time there were thirty-two huge 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 flatten the beer and make it taste worse. Then again, flat beer for a drinking contest wasn¡¯t a bad plan. ¡°What beer¡¯re they usin¡¯?¡± I asked. ¡°Did ya hear, Kirk?¡± Kirk nodded. ¡°Aye. It¡¯s Riverside Ale True Brew. They bought up all the last 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. A large ornate throne flanked by four chairs sat inside, with a commanding view of the space. Flapping above the gazebo were the Kinshasa flag, which was a blue river on a white field, and the Crack flag, 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 plate armor. She had eschewed headwear, instead choosing to pile her platinum 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 black breastplate and chainmail with a manticore rampant emblazoned 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 Blackbeard¡¯s chair is empty! Mcshave was right, somethin¡¯ big is goin¡¯ on!¡± We were interrupted from any further comment 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 playing the Crack national anthem. As one, all the people in the arena rose to their feet and placed 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¡¯d last heard it at the Highland 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 song lasted about 10 minutes. As the last 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 for coming to this, the Octamillenial Drinking and Brewing Contest! Today we will see the greatest lovers of the brew in all of Crack compete 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 welcoming 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 flag of their city emblazoned 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 simple comfortable 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 explaining 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 ¡°Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. He then launched 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 half the stands erupted when the contestant from Kinshasa, one Shawn Willsson was announced. By comparison, 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 [Displacer].¡± ¡°Psh. Overland 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 a laugh. ¡°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 glasses, 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 to complete one beer a minute for as long as they can! We know some of them are big drinkers, and Abilities are 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 dutifully laughed. ¡°What about, like, an extradimensional stomach?¡± I whispered to Richter. ¡°Would that be cheating? ¡°Those have limits. That¡¯s why those barrels are so big.¡± 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 magic launched into the sky and erupted into crackling nets 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. Rumbob completed 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 flavours, ours and Brazen Bull¡¯s. ¡°One mug of the CPA please!¡± I called, paying for the overpriced bottle. ¡°We have plenty, and it¡¯s our beer, 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 welcome 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 a complex 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 mugs laid 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 welcoming The Great Wolf of the West, Slayer 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!*
Quest: Kill the King! Kill the King. of the dwarves! King of Dwarves Slain: 0/1 Rewards: [Unstoppable], Deific Intervention x 1 Do you accept? Yes / No
I gaped at the prompt, beer dribbling out of my open mouth and down my beard. WHAT!? 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 feel the King arrive before I saw him. There was a palpable¡­ energy? Gravitas? Something, 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 applause as the three Dukes rose to their feet and clasped their hands in front of their chests. He was dressed in shimmering layers of plate armor, with comically large 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 a complex 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¡¯. Was silenced. Every mouth in the arena snapped shut with a *clack* *Bing!*
Milestone Used [Unbending] has prevented [Royal Command].
¡°Good people of Kinshasa,¡± The King said, his voice penetrating 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 heart on display. We know many in this arena have competed, or are kin to those who worked themselves to the bone to see this year a success. We wish you to know that WE SEE YOU!¡± He roared the last, raising his fist into the air. ¡°We see you, so know that you have pleased Us! Oh you of rock and stone, lay 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? EXCUSE YOU!? I glanced at the absolute monster in the royal box, and a bead of sweat trickled down my back as he looked directly back at me. No, that had 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 me in particular 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 welcome back our final drinkers! I hope they¡¯re thirsty, because we have over five hundred liters of beer for them to drink!¡± ¡°Flat 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 applause 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 one competitor 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 the competitors 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!¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The crowd catcalled and laughed 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 flag, 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 human 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 more humans competing in this.¡± Aqua had jumped to her feet to wave her flag 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 compete 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 played 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 collapsed 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. ¡°Congratulations to our winner, and the greatest drinker in all of Kinshasa! Rumbob Bejornsson! 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 collapsed. The Thirsty Goat broke into guffaws that spread through the crowd. And then clapping 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 congratulate you Rumbob Bejornsson, for you have made your Ancestors proud! Is he awake? Can he hear Us? No? No matter, We¡¯ll reward him later. 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 do say, and We¡¯re the King!¡± 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 shameful lack 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 Master Schist 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 her commanding 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 a laugh. ¡°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 scoffed. ¡°You were deposed. It¡¯s not the same at all.¡± 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 stuff coming 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 glance with Annie when I felt an invisible hook grab my spine just below my navel, and I was yanked through space itself to arrive directly in front of the royal box. Beside me, Annie heaved a breath and barely kept from throwing up. Master Lapis stood similarly disoriented beside us alongside her husband, a short fellow with a black beard practically as wide and tall as he was. The King practically loomed over us from on high. ¡°Good dwarves, We appreciate you heeding Our summons! Now, present to us the fruit of your craft and explain 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 this 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 similar when talking to powerful CEOs and businesspeople when they¡¯d come 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 clans 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 claim 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 glanced at Lady Barnes. She beamed down at me. There was some confused muttering from the crowd and Lapis gave me an accusatory glare. I returned an apologetic shrug. I wasn¡¯t influencing the judge on purpose. ¡°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 populace?¡± 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 explain 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 the last 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 placed 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 that. 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 hadn¡¯t thought. I desperately ran through my memories trying to remember if naming something after the country was against any Ordinances, but kept coming up blank. Prevaricate Pete, prevaricate! I licked my lips. ¡°The brewing process for this particular 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.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°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 isn¡¯t Sacred Brew, Your Majesty. I¡¯m not allowed to call it that. It¡¯s beer, 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 jubilant. The King sat and stared at us for a while, the silence stretching uncomfortably. 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 uncomfortably as sweat ran down their faces. Interesting. Why were they 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 all our people! They claim 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 brewing compelling 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 more complicated, Your Majesty. Given the alchemy involved it could 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 explaining 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 Blackbeard has been found guilty of High Treason and plotting against the Crown. He has been stripped of his Titles, and his clan purged from the ranks of the nobility.¡± Oh, snap! My head reeled from the mental whiplash 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¡­. new.¡± He held up a scroll of parchment, and then flapped 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 him by a criminal and traitor to the Crown known as Thad Harmsson. Much of this Great Charter is nonsense, but it contains a core of good governance. It is a wise Monarch that listens to His people and thus, in accordance with the wishes of the populace, and through the application of these principles, We make the following proclamation 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 beat later Lapis and her husband did as well. The King waited until all movement ceased, then spoke. ¡°Every eight years, each of the Walls, from Black 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 legislation 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 collapsed to her knees and was openly weeping, and I spotted many gnomes in the stand doing the same. The gnomes were the majority populace 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*
Quest Complete: The Octamillennial Part 4/4! Congratulations! And, thank you. Rewards: [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew]
I very carefully, very deliberately, did not 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,¡± Johnsson complained. ¡°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 place. One of the columns in the back of the Greybeard¡¯s Lyceum rotated in place 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 place 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 alas. I waved at Bran across the rows of seating. ¡°Pull the lever, Bran!¡± ¡°That¡¯s Lord Bran to you, Pete!¡± Bran drawled. ¡°You mean Lord 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 Lady 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 flagstones 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 ¡®vyve lah franz?¡¯ in front of the mosaic.¡± ¡°Vive la 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 flagstones. ¡°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 did vote for him, but now I can¡¯t Lord my noble title over ¡¯im anymore.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s open!¡± 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 particularly 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 a landscape 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!¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°There¡¯s an enchantment behind dat painting,¡± Richter said with excitement, moving forward. ¡°One moment.¡± He traced some sigils, and with a flash, 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 black light, and it hurt my brain to look at. Magical energy wafted off it in ethereal plasma-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 Worldstone,¡± 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 black-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 the coming 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 Blackbeards? They done got my cousin killed in that big mine collapse a few years back. Glad 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. ¡°Che Stronzo¡± 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 it commuted 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 nobles come 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 insular 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 them.¡± He hefted his pickaxe, his eyes shifting to take into consideration angles and escape routes. Joseph laughed. ¡°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 particular dwarf that I think could have a great influence upon my home. If only he had a reason to visit¡­¡± Book 3, Chapter 62.5: The Guilds 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 are partly to blame 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 beer, 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 one, 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 more of a headache, so how about you explain 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 similar 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 in common?¡± Blank 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 dare they!? Where¡¯s ma axe! I¡¯ll go to tha¡¯ nearest baker right now and - ¡± Master Monk massaged her temples. ¡°Sit down Master Adensite. Bread has been around much longer than the Sacred Brew.¡± Master Adensite blinked. ¡°But¡­ then how?¡± Master Malt laughed. ¡°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 relates. The Ancestral Seed for bread is nothing like our own, Brewer Roughtuff. The ingredients may be similar, 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.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°I KNOW IT¡¯S ALIVE, SCHIST! GODS!¡± Master Feld roared, then gave me a baleful eye. ¡°I see where yer goin¡¯ lad, and I don¡¯t like it. The Sacred Brew is not bread.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± I conceded. ¡°But, just as there are many breads, the possibility of many beers exist. And, in fact, did you know that Sacred Breads also 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 kind of bread.¡± I drew a bagel on the board. That wasn¡¯t quite correct, but I had no real way of drawing communion bread. 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 slapped her forehead. Master Malt chuckled, then laughed 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 anything 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 beer, it¡¯s that it¡¯s sacred. 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 bedamned, 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. ¡°DAMN, 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 your dance.¡± Master Monk sighed, loudly. ¡°Does anyone not get it, 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 looks, and gave me the occasional 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 to come 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 planned 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 the last 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 has 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 be coming around to your side, and that¡¯ll help. He¡¯s straight-laced and conservative as they come 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 nothing. 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 accumulated 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 formulas for True Brew and Light Brew shall remain proprietary. However, the combination of water, malt, and yeast, henceforth called beer, 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. Beer was FREE! 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 black mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circular marble table covered by a complex 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 a large glass 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 causes laughin¡¯. 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 black 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 Karma coming 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 occurred 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 applause 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 lots to say!¡± A young human girl giggled ¨C Yearn, the multi-faceted goddess of Nether and Relationships 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 ¡®yer lad 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 you complainin¡¯?¡± ¡°Says you.¡± Aaron, the antlered beastfolk God of Aether and Exchange muttered. ¡°Not all of us have been so successful. 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 splatter zone.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. 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 lovely go this time around! Can you believe that an enterprising young student in Kinshasa University is about to discover magic can be activated with acting? How marvelous! We¡¯ll see a golden age of magic, just you wait!¡± ¡°Ahhhhhh¡­¡­¡­¡­¡± Midna¡¯s muffled wail penetrated her grimy mop of black hair from where she lay face down on the table. Her Chosen¡¯s piece lay 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 need the Karma!¡± Tiara snapped back. ¡°And stop whining, you¡¯ll probably get even more 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 shrill laugh. ¡°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 you.¡± There was laughter 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 discomfort. ¡°I think I¡¯ll vote for¡­. giving all the Karma to Harmsson.¡± ¡°WHAT!?¡± Barck yelped. Lunara clapped 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 refined tastes.¡± Solen sniffed. "And my scaled skin is immaculately clear of anything so vulgar as follicles." Tiara¡¯s gaze on Solen grew sharp. ¡°You¡¯re 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 moment later he hissed, ¡°The dragons! The dragons are gone!!!¡± ¡°What did your Chosen do?¡± Tiara asked with horror. ¡°What did he do!?!¡± Solen chuckled, then guffawed, and then his toothy roaring laughter 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 that lay between the continents of Drakken and North Erden, the race of dragons winged onward, a great black behemoth at their helm. For the first time in eons, the dragons were on the move. 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 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 If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Book 4, Chapter 1: The World and Everything In It 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 Columbia come to think of it. The biggest difference being a distinct lack of sun. And the dwarves and gnomes everywhere. And all the cats. And all the fungi. Though it had at least one fun-guy in common, Nyuck! But you get the picture. I glanced out a window and up at the bright light emanating from one of the many floating lanterns that lit Western Crack. They didn¡¯t give off any heat, but their light helped beat back the darkness that was always trying to claim back what it had once ruled. My head swiveled to look around the room, which was the comfortably appointed central lounge of our clan manor. The sunken living space was done up in a more gnomish style, with lots of wood, glass, 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 a large 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 clan Grumble. With the Octamillenial out of the way and two, three if you included Bran, new nobles in the family, everyone had lots of complaining to do. Our blonde bearded and pink-mowhawked dandy, Johnsson, was angry about the state of the tavern. He claimed 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 words 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 clan chimed in. Okay, maybe I had been laying it on a bit thick. But I was a big bottomed Dwarf Lord now; I had a whole lotta thick to throw around! But point taken, I would lay 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 similar Ability to my own [Spot Clean]. Bando¡¯s complaints 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 big spills. All in all, the young [Pacifier]¡¯s new predilection for calm headedness was paying off in spades for our clan! 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 tired. Everyone was angry. Everyone had had it up to their moustaches with feuds, competitions, 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 glances my way during the entirety of the last 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 existence 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 clan Grumble in the first place. 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. No, it was a large 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 accent 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 place 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.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. 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 problem. ¡°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 take.¡± 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 collapses. Nobody wants that. How did Herder even get one??¡± ¡°Lucky Jean discovered 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 trouble!¡± 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 relatively high alcohol content and added spices could call itself a winter ale. My favourite from back on earth had been the Granville Island 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 lot 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 would last forevah, no matter how strong the enchant!¡± Richter gestured expensively. ¡°Ooh, like on a fancy magic sword?¡± Johnsson asked. ¡°What use would you have for a magic sword?¡± Aqua tittered. ¡°I was thinking that our new lords 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 that 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 couldn¡¯t do. ¡®De most famous are: it can evolve Abilities; even Blessing¡¯s! It can enlarge dimensional spaces, often manyfold. Oh, and if you place it in ¡®de right kind of place, 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 dungeon?¡± 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 least two clans 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 relaxed and quiet. I foresee days full of blissful boring labour and good eating.¡± Annie clapped her hands. ¡°For now we¡¯ll shelve the Worldstone. I think we should wait until something comes 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 was complete without a final word from the Princess, who dropped her drink bowl on top of the Worldstone lockbox. *MEEEEHHHH!!!!* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°All of your whining has made me thirsty! See to your princess!!¡± ¡°Yes, Penelope!¡± We all said together, then laughed. 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 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 therapy last week,¡± she accused. I grimaced. ¡°Sorry, I was doin¡¯ some axe throwing with Balin and Annie. It was meant to be 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 then compared throwing techniques.¡± ¡°Ugh. Yes, how do they even have time to keep up with hitball stats!?¡± ¡°They make time.¡± ¡°Young couples. I tell ya.¡± Aqua arched her brows. ¡°They¡¯re older than you.¡± ¡°Meh, I was married for decades. Just wait and see what happens when Annie uses Balin¡¯s beard comb and leaves hairs tangled in it. Or when Balin drops a bloody axe on her couch. That¡¯s 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. Therapy.¡± I sighed. ¡°Okay. Tonight. I have a meeting with Schist first.¡± ¡°You mean Duke 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.¡± I laughed. ¡°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 plant poking out of the flagstones. But at the same time, traffic just melted 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 incredibly choice words to say about that. [Translated from Foul Mouthed Gnome] ¡°My collard greens!¡± *Blaaahhh!* [Translated 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, labyrinthine place, 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 a large wooden table that was absolutely covered in papers. The walls were all taken up by chalkboards that were similarly covered with math and writing. He was short as ever, with his palid pate and a grey-white traditionally knotted beard. Unlike his usual black 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¡¯s companions, a curt nod. ¡°Lady Viola¡± ¡°Brewer Roughtuff,¡± she harrumphed back. ¡°Have you, ah, booted Blackbeard in the apricots yet?¡± I asked, searching for just the right words. It had been Harmsson¡¯s last request before he hadn¡¯t actually died, but I¡¯d passed it on all the same. ¡°No.¡± She frowned. ¡°Louis Blackbeard is in prison. Actual prison. All his nonsense finally caught up with him. The booting seemed unnecessary.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. An awkward silence stretched, as Schist and the other greybeard looked quizzically back and forth between myself and Lady Viola. I coughed ¡°Any word from Harmsson?¡± Viola¡¯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 Viola 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 look. ¡°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 thousand!?¡± ¡°It¡¯s bigger when you take into account 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 current laws 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. 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 me. ¡°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 blank, 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 that much.¡± No seriously, please don¡¯t blame 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. Every common dwarf and gnome in Crack owes you much.¡± ¡°Ahaha¡­.¡± I laughed nervously, thinking about how upset 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 related. 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 finished a beervolution. I donnae need ta get involved in even higher 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 and blacksmithing techniques are on the table. The blacksmithing will be a hard sell, but the citizenry is ripe fer trading in brewing right now. And we could really use the extra gold.¡± I licked my suddenly dry lips at the familiar refrain. Money, money, money, it always seemed to come 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 did 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 long term.¡± ¡°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 Blackbeards 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 population 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% from last year, and it¡¯s happening everywhere. Ambassador Stannard says that news from the surface is similar, 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 more Gold.¡± There was some silence as I digested everything, broken only by Viola 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. Bing!
New Quest: The Ambassador Part 1/3! Become the brew ambassador to Awmedinand and meet with the Elven King! Accept Schist¡¯s Offer: 0/1 Rewards: Charisma +1 Do you accept? Yes / No
I waved the quest away for now, not accepting 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. Elven wine! Book 4, Chapter 3: Elven Wine Book 4, Chapter 3: Elven Wine 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.
More Brews Part 4/5 More! MORE! Invent sixty-four new drinks. Mixes don¡¯t count. Drinks Invented: 8/64 Rewards: Increased Personal Mana A Magical World Part 3/10 Now that you¡¯ve got some magic, try learning some! Spells Learned: ? Rewards: Increased Mana Pool What¡¯s all the Fuss About? What¡¯s the deal with elven wine? Find out for yourself!\ Wine Drunk: 0/1 Rewards: You Get To Drink Elven Wine Dwarven Influencer Part 8/10 The dwarves need your help. Influence 2,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge. Dwarves Influenced: 1,562,150/2,000,000 Rewards: 1 x Deific Revelation Gnomish Influencer Part 8/10! The gnomes need your help. Influence 2,000,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge. Gnomes influenced: 673,124/2,000,000 Rewards: [Tools of the Trade] Elven Influencer 1/10 Dunno how well this gonna go with just beer, to be honest. Maybe some wine? Elves Influenced: 1,834/2,500 Rewards: [Adjust Taste] Human Influencer 3/10 Giants have giant tastes, and I¡¯m looking forward to a beer that can satisfy them! Humans Influenced: 3,125/5,000 Rewards: +0.5 Charisma, +0.5 Dexterity Fisherdwarf 1/10 Shouldn¡¯t you be brewing? Catch 16 Fish Fish Caught: 4/16 Rewards: +0.2 Dexterity, +0.2 Vitality Deadly Ambush Part 2/2 Find the bastards that dared to try and kill you. Make them pay! Attacker Unmasked: 1/1 Attacker Slain: 0/1 Rewards: [Perceive Ambush] Publicly Traded Part 2/3 Why stop with one? Take control! Own 51 percent of a company! Percentage of Shares Owned: 50/51 Rewards: +0.4 Charisma, +0.2 Intelligence True Love In another lifetime you found and lost what many can only dream of. Can you do it again? True Love Found: 0/1 Rewards: [Access to the Karma Store] The Ambassador Part 1/3 Become the brew ambassador to Awmedinand! Accept Schist¡¯s Offer: 0/1 Rewards: Charisma +1
The quests seemed to come 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.
Status: Provided by the Firmament Name: Peter Roughtuff Age: 51 (Birthday is the 15th day of the 5th month) Conditions: Race: Dwarf Blessings: [Flesh of Stone], [Flash of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Map], [Refine Brew], [Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye], [Lesser Arcane Crafting] Title: [Otherworldly Brewer] Milestones: [Power Pick], [Basic Slash], [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] Strength: 20.8 Vitality: 22 Agility: 14.7 Dexterity: 15.4 Wisdom: 15.4 Intelligence: 19.9 Perception: 18.4 Charisma: 21.5
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 too noticeable; I just didn¡¯t really get tired anymore, and I could take a serious beating during bar fights. The newest additions were [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew] and [Wayfinder], one of which I¡¯d gotten for winning the Octamillenial competition, and the other for completing More Brews level 3. It didn¡¯t really fit the rest of my brewing and administration Ability kit, but it would come in handy if I ever got lost in a sewer again.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. [Wayfinder] - You can set a waypoint to any place you have physically been. Setting a waypoint removes any previously set waypoints. You always know the direction and distance to your waypoint. My current waypoint was, of course, set to home. My room in the Thirsty Goat manor house to be more specific. To be even more specific, it was set to my private little hidey hole in my room where I went to sit in the dark and contemplate my life choices. The other ability was a bit more interesting. Both because it was a Personalized Ability, and just in general. [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew] - 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. This Ability is always active. Now see, with a name like that I¡¯d assumed 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 Lucky Brew 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 Assblaster and bottles of Herder beer off the bar. My bottles had shattered on the floor at a ratio of 3:2, while his always broke into a million tiny shards. That¡¯d continued for a while until Rosie had come 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 glass. 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 were completely 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 identical to the Jolly Green Giant. They did all have pointy ears and lithe bodies, but that¡¯s where the Tolkeinesque resemblance ended. Since they were plants, every elf had light green skin and dark red bark-coloured hair, and looked nothing 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 the Kingdom of the elves, but it wasn¡¯t the only 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 uncomfortably. ¡°Erm. Duke Schist sent me?¡± The elf¡¯s face visibly brightened and he stood up. ¡°Oh my goodness! Are you the one recommended by the Duke? Please, come in, come 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 of 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 distinct lack of fireplaces or weaponry. A single picture of a majestic elf wearing a crown sat on the wall over a large 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 had 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 neatly laid out, with a few papers atop it and a pair of glass goblets. He finished stamping a set of documents, then stood and reached over the desk to bump fists. ¡°Welcome, 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 accepted the Duke¡¯s request?¡± ¡°Mmm¡­ let¡¯s call it probationary. He said I should talk to you first.¡± Joseph placed 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 black bottle onto the desktop. ¡°I believe I owe you congratulations!¡± I grinned, my eyes glued to the bottle. It was plain 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 the label. ¡°It stands for ¡®Romero¡¯, the original creator of wine. He owns the winery.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I still can¡¯t parse that. The only winery.¡± According 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 to come 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 existence 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 vanilla and a touch of¡­ roses? It was the thickest, headiest wine I¡¯d smelled in my life. Either life. Joseph watched me with amusement. ¡°It¡¯s a strong smell,¡± he commented. ¡°Aye, that it is.¡± I gulped. ¡°But how¡¯s it taste?¡± He poured a small amount into each glass, and I almost stumbled forward out of my chair as I leaned forward to peer into the ruby liquid. It was completely 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 in common 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 clarity alcohol. Joseph passed me the glass 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 feel 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 strong! ¡°To a long business relationship!¡± Joseph toasted, then winked. ¡°And hopefully to your acceptance of our offer.¡± I toasted and then took a deep full mouthful of the wine. I probably 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 foreplay 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, Chapter 4: A Good Year I awoke upside down. A notification was blinking before my eyes.
Quest Complete: What¡¯s all the Fuss About? How was it? Reward: You Got To Drink Elven Wine
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 with laughter, 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 platform 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 glass. 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 platform, which helped stop the world from spinning. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you liked it?¡± Joseph laughed. His two companions 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 vanilla. Tart, but not dry. Sweet, yet not overpowering. It was ambrosia.¡± ¡°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¡¯ hell 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 glass 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. Bastard. ¡°Perhaps if you went to the Winery and asked, Master Romero would be willing to share. You are 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 available 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, seriously, 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 the company 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 great 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 fun, 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 glorious 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 singular 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 him later 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.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. 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!!!* [Translated 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!!* [Translated From Prima Donna Goat] ¡°WHAT IS THAT MOST HEAVENLY OF SCENTS!?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± I backed away. *Baaahhh!!* [Translated 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!!* [Translated 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 you?¡± ¡°I had some elven wine¡­¡± I muttered. ¡°What, the pointy-ears drink?¡± Balin grinned. ¡°How did it compare to real brew?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories,¡± Annie began. ¡°It was incredible.¡± I groaned, collapsing 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 even comes close.¡± Balin gawped. ¡°You, Peter Roughtuff. Master of the Unsacred Brew. Lord of Beer. Forefather of Brewin¡¯. You think wine is better than beer.¡± I groaned louder. ¡°I knew about ¡®Forefather of Beer¡¯. Please 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 explain 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 aged, for a very 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. ¡°Ninety 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 the 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, way 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 dwarven brewers, doesn''t mean I was the best wine brewer, or even beer brewer back in my world. I would¡¯ve called myself good, better than decent, but not the best.¡± I lazily 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. Lots 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 glass in hand, while being chased by a screaming goat. Book 4, Chapter 5: Reply Hazy Book 4, Chapter 5: Reply Hazy This time I awoke in my own comfortable bed. I made my way to our impressive bathroom and sat in the steaming pool for a while, thinking. It was either really early, or really late, but who could tell underground? Either way, I was the only one in the bath, which really gave me an opportunity to think. What was I going to do? Did I take the offer and go off to the unknown, or stay here with my family and bask in our hard won success. Why was this so hard? I had an offer on the table. A serious offer. Given the general mood of the Grumble, it was an offer I¡¯d need to follow up on alone. I doubted anyone else would be willing to drop everything and come with me. Okay, maybe Annie, but she¡¯d need to stay and be in charge of brewing. No. It would be me alone. I¡¯d undoubtedly get an escort, but I¡¯d be a sitting duck if things went really sideways. I shivered, remembering the monstrous fire-breathing feathered demon this world called a duck. Okay, a sitting buck. Or something. After a scrub and a dunk in the tub, I was no longer a mess. I really wanted to drink more elven wine, but it was at roughly the same level of really wanting a bloody oreo cookie. Note, ask Bran. Beard shampooed, body scrubbed, and hair combed I made my way upstairs. It was roughly noon according to the clock in the wall of the manor living room. The only other person about was Aqua, who was seated in the sunken space reading a leather-bound book titled ¡®The Mind and You¡¯. ¡°Pete.¡± She said matter of factly without looking up. ¡°You missed our session again. You were supposed to check in last night.¡± I winced. ¡°Sorry, I was a bit occupied.¡± She closed her textbook. ¡°Aye. Annie told me. Sounds like you had an adventure. Want to talk about it? Now¡¯s as good a time as any.¡± I sat down on a couch demurely, hands on my knees. Aqua eyed me and began in a calm tone. ¡°So tell me Peter, are you avoiding our counseling sessions on purpose?¡±
Condition Gained: [Calm]! You have gained the [Calm] Condition!
I thought about it, and answered honestly. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. Not even subconsciously, I¡¯ve just been busy with other things.¡± Aqua pulled out her counseling notebook from thin air and began writing in it. She¡¯d gotten another Milestone recently, and had chosen a subspace Ability that let her store her client notes. Combined with her [Keep Secrets] Ability, it meant she had a pretty thorough lock on her client information. ¡°Hmmm¡­ Okay. [Truespeech] says you think you¡¯re telling the truth. But that still doesn¡¯t excuse it. As your friend, stop skipping out on me!¡± She rapped me on the knee with her pencil. ¡°Sorry¡­¡± I said, long-faced. ¡°Apology accepted. Have you been working on what we talked about last time?¡± ¡°Opening up ta more interpersonal relationships? I told you that I hung out with Balin and Annie.¡± ¡°Yes, good, and I hear that you, Johnsson, and Dwarf Draconis had a wonderful time at Berry¡¯s new year''s bash?¡± I nodded. ¡°You looked great up there by the way.¡± Aqua preened. ¡°I have groupies now. At least that¡¯s what Berry calls them.¡± ¡°Berry¡¯s backup dancers have groupies??¡± I tittered. ¡°That¡¯s as impressive as Left Shark.¡± ¡°Who?¡± I waved it away. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s an obscure reference even fer me. It was someone my daughter was briefly obsessed with.¡± ¡°Pfeh. You just wish you got more than just put on a pedestal, isn¡¯t that right Mr. Forefather of Brewing. How¡¯s that been on your ego, by the way?¡± ¡°Ugh, I think I¡¯d be gettin¡¯ a bigger head if it didn¡¯t sound so cringe.¡± ¡°Mmmm¡­¡± She jotted in her notebook. ¡°Is it making things worse?¡± ¡°I dunno. It definitely isn¡¯t helpin¡¯ in the interpersonal relationships department, since I cannae tell anymore if people like me or tha Forefather of Brewing.¡± ¡°And the crying jags?¡± I flopped down onto the couch. ¡°Mostly gone. Stress is still up, and the insomnia is back.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Did you try the breathing exercises we discussed for insomnia?¡± I rolled over on the couch. ¡°Yes and no. Tha breathing exercises helped me calm down, but then I had lots¡¯a time ta think, and then I spent all of it thinkin¡¯ about ducks in dark tunnels and giant ants and screamin¡¯ dwarves in market squares.¡± ¡°I see¡­ you¡¯re still having nightmares about the duck? And the ants?¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t. And you forgot the wombats¡± Aqua chuckled. ¡°Fair. So, sitting in the silence is a trigger. Do you have something you could focus on instead while you do the exercises? Happy memories? Do some mining on your walls?¡± I closed my eyes and thought back to that moment in the arena. The crowd roaring its approval. The King beaming down at me. ¡°Sure.¡± Aqua made more notes. ¡°Any other concerns?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking a lot less about music from Earth recently.¡± ¡°Is that worrisome?¡± ¡°Eh, yes and no. I was always big into listening to the old radio and cranking the tunes, but outside of going to Berry¡¯s concerts that just isn¡¯t as much a thing here.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s assume I know what you mean by a radio. Did you find that listening to it helped center you? Is the lack of familiar music a missing anchor in your life?¡± ¡°A little¡­¡± We went on like that back and forth for a solid hour. I¡¯d say something innocuous, and Aqua would hone in on it. I¡¯d drop what I thought was a personal bombshell and she¡¯d consider it inconsequential to the greater picture. Psychiatry was confusing. As we approached the end of our session, she activated the usual Abilities.
Milestone Used A [Hypnotist] is trying to use [Sense Emotions] on you. Do you accept? Yes/No
*Ding!*
Milestone Used A [Hypnotist] is trying to use [Inner Sight] on you. Do you accept? Yes/No
I accepted both prompts and fell into my memories. ¡ª ¡°Cheers!¡± Caroline and I stood in our kitchen, enjoying the gorgeous pastels of an Okanagan sunset. Clouds hung over the ocean far off to the west as it sparkled a deep purple under the shifting streamers of light. We were also trying to enjoy the very first batch of wine from our vineyard. Caroline took a sip from her wine glass and made a face. ¡°What do you think?¡± I spun the red Cabernet Sauvignon in my own glass, watching the light play through it. It was murky. I took a sip and grimaced. ¡°Eh, not great, and it¡¯s hazy. It¡¯s done fermenting, and it smells right, so it has to be tannins falling out of the wine. That or we have to filter it a tad finer.¡± Caroline gave me an arch look. ¡°Was that a pun? I thought red wine doesn¡¯t use finings. Do we need to get the old isinglass out again?¡± ¡°Hah! No, no puns. And definitely no isinglass, that was just for the beer. Egg whites are a good fining agent for reds, so we can try some, but not a lot. That or bentonite, though that¡¯s more for whites. You¡¯re right, we aren¡¯t supposed to do much fining for reds.¡± Caroline sighed and put her glass down. ¡°So much for our first red. And here I was looking forward to having the girls over to gossip about our husbands over my own homemade wine.¡± I gave her a mocking toast and took a sip, then dribbled it back out into the glass. ¡°Blech. It tastes worse than it looks. Back to the drawing board I guess.¡± Caroline shrugged. ¡°Well, it was our first, it¡¯s okay to be disappointing.¡± I waggled my eyebrows at her. ¡°I don¡¯t recall you saying that about our first.¡± She smacked my ass. Playfully. ¡°Hey!¡± Caroline tapped the bottle on the kitchen counter beside us. ¡°But seriously Pete, what are we going to do? We have four barrels of this stuff.¡± ¡°Sell it to the college kids on the cheap?¡± ¡°Are you trying to get us shut down?¡± ¡°Then I guess we just have to dump it,¡± I grumped. She sighed. ¡°What a waste. Why us??¡± ¡°Could be a dozen reasons. Most of them have to do with the grapes and not us, sadly. Let me test it.¡± I poured a saucepan full of the wine and set it on the stove then flicked the dial to high. Caroline draped herself over my shoulders and peered around my neck at the pan. ¡°Am I about to be subjected to a wine lesson, dear?¡± I scoffed. ¡°You hardly need the lesson.¡± ¡°Humour me. You know I love it when you winesplain.¡± She kissed my neck. ¡°If it¡¯s the tannins, then heating the wine will cause it to clear. We knew this might be an issue with Carbernet Sauvignon grapes. If we wanted something simpler we would¡¯ve used Merlot instead.¡± ¡°What can we do?¡± ¡°Depends on if it''s a ¡®too cold¡¯ or ¡®too hot¡¯ problem. It¡¯s getting colder these days so it may not be cold stable. If we shock cool the wine to just above freezing for a few weeks before we rack it, that¡¯ll do it. If it¡¯s a heat problem, then the egg whites or some Betoninte are our only hope.¡± We watched in blissful silence as the pan slowly turned clear. ¡°See? Tannins.¡± I whispered. ¡ª I came back to the couch, blinking. ¡°So. How do you feel?¡± Aqua asked. ¡°I feel¡­ like I¡¯m missing something.¡± I began hesitantly. Aqua nodded. ¡°The emotions I was getting were a mix of happiness, aspiration, and a bit of melancholy, maybe.¡± ¡°What does Bing Crosby have to do with anything?¡± Aqua glanced at her notes. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°My Melancholy Baaaaaby,¡± I crooned. ¡°No references during therapy!¡± Aqua snapped, smacking my chest. I whoofed and grinned up at her. ¡°And I thought you were forgetting your Earth music!¡± I sat up on the couch, feeling like a weight was lifting from my chest. ¡°Actually Aqua, this really helped clear my head. I know it¡¯s only been a month, but I miss it. Finding out what was and wasn¡¯t working. Furthering my craft and becoming a better brewer. Now that we¡¯re just ramping through brews, I¡¯ve lost a bit of that.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ I can¡¯t imagine the Clan Grumble yesterday helped much in that respect. Sorry.¡± She gave me a sad smile. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine. Thank you, I really needed this. I had somethin¡¯ weighin¡¯ on me mind, and now it feels more clear than ever.¡± ¡°Oh, good!¡± She smiled, ¡°are you willing to talk about it? ¡°Aye. Duke Schist wants me ta be the new Ambassador to Awemedinand. I¡¯ll be in charge of teachin¡¯ the locals about tha new beer brewin¡¯, and help ta stabilize the import of all the new beer. I¡¯m thinkin¡¯... that I¡¯ll take him up on the offer.¡± Aqua gawped at me, then pulled me off the couch by my beard. ¡°YOU COULDN¡¯T HAVE LEAD WITH THAT!?¡± Book 4, Chapter 6: A Special Moment And so it was time for another emergency meeting of the Thirsty Goat Family. This time with steak sandwiches and white sauce. Everyone was in attendance, except Kirk, who was off human-ing. The meeting immediately ground to a halt as the only sounds in the living room were groans of pleasure and the wet smacking of mastication. A word that means chewing, you dirty minded shitgibbons I was of two minds. One one side they were incredibly delicious sandwiches. On the other, it reminded me a bit too much of the sandwiches Bran used to make in the mining camp. Which made me think of brain-jacking Abilities and giant ants and¡­ well, focus on the now Pete. Breath in, breath out, remember the King¡¯s beaming face. Honestly, it worked pretty well. The King¡¯s massive charisma made him very easy to remember, and thoughts of him immediately wiped out any other worries. I¡¯d have to send him a thank you bottle of wine when I made one. Though¡­ it would probably be worse than the original. Shit, that was going to be annoying. I was going from being the best brewer, to almost certainly the worst. At least it would be good for the Forefather of Brewing¡¯s ego. The first to finish their sandwich and talk was Richter. ¡°Can I just get ¡®dis straight? Peter, you¡¯ve been offered ¡®da chance to become an Ambassador. ¡®Dey want you to go topside and teach all ¡®de dwarves and elves how to brew beer?¡± I nodded. Richter nodded. ¡°Okay. Let me just be ¡®de first to say, ¡®dat sounds amazing, and I am very happy for you. Also, FUCK no, I¡¯m staying here.¡± The usually straight-laced Richter really got that swear word out there, and there was a hacking sound as Annie patted Aqua on the back while the blue-bearded dwarfess choked on her sandwich. ¡°Anyone else?¡± Annie deadpanned. Hands stayed resolutely down. Bando started to raise his, got ¡®the look¡¯ from his mother, and slowly dropped it. ¡°I just don¡¯t think anyone wants to do that right now, Pete.¡± Aqua explained, desperately wiping bits of sandwich out of her beard. ¡°The past couple of years have been more excitement than most dwarves experience in a lifetime. I just want to¡­ brew, and sing, find a beardfriend, and play hitball. I¡¯m sick of crisis after crisis.¡± There were murmurs of agreement. I sighed. ¡°Aye, I figured as much. But I wanted you all to know that I¡¯m planning on takin¡¯ the deal. Aqua convinced me.¡± All eyes nailed Aqua and she rolled hers. ¡°It was therapy. Therapy. I didn¡¯t tell him anything, he decided all on his own.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± I protested, grinning, ¡°you aren¡¯t supposed to talk about our therapy sessions!¡± ¡°Shad-dup. You started it. And I think he¡¯s right, everyone. He¡¯s going to become insufferable in short order without something driving him. Can you imagine a rich, bored, lorded, Pete? Stuck in here with you for the next century?¡± There was a group shiver, to my feeble protests. ¡°Sorry brother, but you might be on yer own.¡± Balin grimaced. ¡°I donnae want ta leave Annie, and we¡¯re still explorin¡¯ Deepcore.¡± Annie reached over and patted me on the shoulder. ¡°Then I guess that¡¯s that.¡± Well, it was about what I¡¯d expected. ¡°Mebbe Kirk will want to come,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Do you have anything you need to do before you go?¡± Bando put in. ¡°Ya ain¡¯t just leavin¡¯ tomorrow, right?¡± ¡°Aye! And don¡¯t you be doin¡¯ it for free, hear! You¡¯d better get something good out of it!¡± Rosie added. I pointed at our resident coupon-cutter and general manager. ¡°Rosie, that¡¯s brilliant! They really want me, so what should I ask for? Brainstorming, everyone!¡± Richter put up his hand. ¡°Rare books?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Naw, we can always buy those, we need something that only the government can give us.¡± ¡°Tax breaks?¡± Annies asked, grimacing. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe they¡¯re charging us a tax on buried treasure.¡± ¡°A pass on health inspections?¡± Bando asked, hopefully. ¡°You still got¡¯s ta clean the kitchen boyo.¡± His father, Darrel groused. ¡°Enchanted items!¡± Richter hooted. I even activated [Flash of insight], but it didn¡¯t really give me any new ideas that couldn¡¯t be solved by throwing money at it. It did reveal that I¡¯d need to stock up on armoured socks before leaving. Balin had been quiet and contemplative, and he spoke into the silence that fell as people ran out of ideas. ¡°If yer leavin¡¯, Pete¡­ what about access to the teleportation circle? Then we¡¯d be able to ship our brew to the surface, and come visit ya. Us adventurers use tha¡¯ dungeon teleporters all tha¡¯ time, and they¡¯re great.¡± I blinked. The teleportation circle in Kinsahsa was a very private affair, limited to a few old clans, and government big-wigs. Everyone else had to brave the winding, dangerous, old road through the depths. ¡°That¡¯s brilliant, dear! Especially if they¡¯re trying to spread beer to the surface! They¡¯ll probably jump at the idea!¡± Annie whooped with jubilation and wrapped Balin in a big hug, planting a big kiss on his brow. I nodded. ¡°Okay, teleporter access for one. Anything else?¡± ¡°Tax breaks?¡± Annie asked, hopefully. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Tax breaks. I¡¯ll ask, but no promises. Anything they¡¯re likely to accept?¡± A few more ideas were pitched, from zoning exceptions, to royal titles, to ¡®get out of jail free¡¯ cards (the last was my idea).The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. In the end, we landed on just teleportation permission. It was feasible, and avoided pushing for too much. As we wound down, Annie finally asked the big question, ¡°When will you leave?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Dunno. I assume relatively soon. Joseph seemed eager to start.¡± ¡°Do you have anything you need to do before you go?¡± Aqua asked, putting her therapy hat on. I thought about it. ¡°The business is pretty much in hand between Whistlemop, Copperpot, and you lot. But¡­ I¡¯ve been thinking. When I met with Sam, he mentioned my mother. I ¨C ah ¨C left her a lot of debt, apparently. I¡¯ve been avoiding it, but I should really deal with that.¡± ¡°Pete!¡± Rosie said, shocked. ¡°How could you!¡± ¡°I ¨C you ¨C It wasn¡¯t ¨C¡° I gawped, looking at her with consternation, my eyes flicking to Bando. The youngster still wasn¡¯t in the know about my past, but his parents were. I hadn¡¯t left Pete¡¯s Erdly mother with mounds of debt! Rosie followed my eyes and flushed. ¡°Oh, I get it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Bando¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°What¡¯re you all talkin¡¯ about.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, dearie.¡± His mother patted him on the back, and he grumbled. It was at that moment that I got a notification. *Bing!*
Quest Complete: Elven Influencer Part 1/10 One down, 9 to go! Gained [Adjust Taste]!
New Quest: Elven Influencer Part 2/10 Influence 5,000 elves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge Like I said, go make some wine! Elves Influenced: 50/5000 Rewards: + 0.4 Charisma Do you accept? Yes/No
¡°Huh¡­¡± I muttered while accepting the quest, ¡°I just got a Milestone.¡± ¡°Lucky bastard.¡± Johnsson muttered. ¡°Gets Milestones practically just fer existing.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± I protested, ¡°I worked hard fer this.¡± ¡°What did you get?¡± Aqua asked, sitting forward with interest. ¡°One sec.¡± I pulled up the information on the new Ability. It was one I¡¯d been looking forward to.
[Adjust Taste] - You may have heard the saying ¡°You can''t really understand another person''s experience until you''ve walked a mile in their shoes.¡± This lets you walk a mile in their tongue. Adjust your sense of taste to match a chosen target. This ability can be used once per day and lasts for one hour.
I read the Ability once in my head, and again out loud. It wasn¡¯t as exciting as I¡¯d hoped, but it certainly had its uses in brewing. Especially in a world with different races! At the same time¡­ It was kinda meh. Ah well, Milestones weren¡¯t where the really cool stuff was. That was the Blessings, and speaking of which¡­ ¡°I need ta Specialize,¡± I commented offhand. Bando actually jumped in his seat. ¡°Already!? How in tarnation!? I know fer a fact you Specialized last year!¡± ¡°I really do work hard.¡± I grinned at him, then considered my options. ¡°Now¡¯s as good a chance as any. How¡¯s about you all lend me some advice.¡± There were general murmurs of agreement and I considered which Milestones I was going to throw into the woodchipper; sacrificing rare, special, and themed Milestones gave a more powerful Specialization. I had: [Power Pick], [Basic Slash], [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], and now [Adjust Taste]. All the combat, socialization, and mining Abilities were out, which left: [Big Money], [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Rapid Aging], [Lucky Break], [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew], [Spot Clean], [Sense Poison], [Wayfinder] and [Adjust Taste] [Spot Clean] was too useful, as was [Rapid Aging]; I literally couldn¡¯t afford to lose them. [Lucky Break] could go into the pot, along with [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew]. That would be a nice luck boost, and one of them counted as an ultra-rare Personalized Ability. [Adjust Taste], while neat, could help pad the numbers. I was about to discount [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] by reflex, but then thought about it more seriously. Over the past couple months I¡¯d summoned just about everything I could think of and recreated them. And ever since Copperpot learned my secret, I¡¯d held nothing back. He now had a massive inventory of sketches and models to draw from. Outside of evolving the Ability one day and getting larger items, which was in no way guaranteed, I didn¡¯t use it for much beyond stress balls these days. And it was another super rare Personalized Ability. What would mixing them give¡­ I threw it in the pot. Which left one more. [Sense Poison] was too mundane, and [Wayfinder] might save my life one day. Which left [Big Money], an Ability that let me store my gold in an extradimensional space. I didn¡¯t really need it, and it might give an interesting twist to some of my choices. ¡°Alrighty everyone. I¡¯m going to toss [Big Money], [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew], [Lucky Break], and [Adjust Taste] into the Specialisation. Speak now or forever hold your peace.¡± Rosie sighed with relief. ¡°Ach, I¡¯ll be glad ta see [Lucky Brew] go. Too many durned idjits were using our bottles as maces in bar brawls. It was gettin¡¯ dangerous.¡± ¡°[Miniature Remembrance]? Are you sure?¡± Aqua asked, notebook at the ready. ¡°Aye, I don¡¯t really need it anymore.¡± ¡°It¡¯s your Abilities Pete.¡± Aqua patted me on the knee. ¡°You know best.¡± I took a big breath, and activated the prompt. *Bing!*
Specialisation Possible! Please select 5 Milestones to combine into a Specialisation! You have selected [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance], [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew], [Lucky Break], [Adjust Taste], and [Big Money]. Merge Milestones? Yes/No
I chose yes. *Bing!*
Specialisation Gained You have decided to Specialise! Specialisation is an important decision that will guide your future growth. Your selected Milestones will combine to give you powerful new Blessings that will help you down your chosen path. Choose wisely, for what you choose will come to define you. The following four Specialisations are available to you. Barck¡¯s Bartender Otherworldly Lucky Crafter Crafter of Fortune Legendary Archemist
Walls of text filled my vision and I got busy deciding on the next chapter in my life. But honestly, with a name like Legendary Archemist, this was probably a done deal. Book 4, Chapter 7: Whats In A Name? ¡°While Peter reads over all his fancy new stuff, did anyone come up with an interesting use for the Worldstone?¡± Annie asked. ¡°I still think tha best use is a dungeon,¡± Balin said, ¡°if¡¯n we can find a place ta put it.¡± ¡°Where on Erd would we get enough space?¡± Bran groused. ¡°We could ask Duke Schist for some land up North?¡± Aqua tried hopefully. The clan broke into excited discussion about possibilities while I started reading over my options. Honestly, with a name like Legendary Archemist, I considered it a done deal, but it was still worth reading everything. My current class was an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter], and it would serve as a base while the subsumed Milestones gave direction. Thankfully, all of the options seemed to stem off the concept of brewing and crafting with a bit of luck tossed in, which was exactly what I¡¯d hoped for!
Possible Specialisation: [Otherworldly Crafter of Fortune] Combine [Lucky Break] and [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew] into the Blessing [Liquid Luck]. Combine [Big Money] and [Adjust Taste] into the Blessing [Inventory]. The Milestone [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] is not affected. As an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter], you have always worked hard to craft the best possible artifice that you can. While luck may not have played too much of a role, every good crafter knows that it''s always a part of the mix. As an [Otherworldly Crafter of Fortune], you will be able to distill luck itself for others to drink. [Liquid Luck] ¨C Any of your brews will improve the luck of those who drink it. You are able to shape luck while crafting, and can increase or decrease the amount in your brews through hard work and dedication. This Ability is always available. [Inventory] ¨C As a crafter, you will often be handling large numbers of ingredients. This Ability allows you to store up to eighty thousand cubic meters of crafting materials in an extradimensional space. You always know everything in your inventory and can summon individual items to your hand. Time does not pass in your inventory, and it cannot store sentient beings. This Ability is always available.
Possible Specialisation: [Barck¡¯s Bartender] Combine [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] and [Pete¡¯s Lucky Brew] into the Blessing [Barcks¡¯ Cellar]. Combine [Lucky Break] and [Adjust Taste] into the Blessing [Discerning Palate]. The Milestone [Big Money] is not affected. As one Chosen by the God Barck, he has watched your growth with great interest. Through the sacrifice of your strongest Blessings, he is able to grant you access to his cellars, which contain the accumulated alcohols of Erd. As [Barck¡¯s Bartender] you will serve not only the brews of mortals, but Gods as well. [Barck¡¯s Cellar] ¨C Grants you access to a demiplane containing Barck¡¯s accumulated brews. Barck¡¯s brews cannot be removed from the cellar except by his say-so, and will refill after one month has passed. You may freely move your own brews and ingredients to and from the space. Any food or drink placed in the cellar will never go bad, and will stop maturing when it reaches the ideal age. You may activate this Ability once per day, creating a permanent door to the cellar that anyone can use. When you use this Ability again, any older doors are destroyed. Barck may also create or destroy doors to this space whenever and wherever he wishes and kick people out if he chooses. [Discerning Palate] ¨C Adjust your sense of taste to match a chosen target for an hour. Additionally, when eating or drinking, you are able to discern information by taste alone. This includes, the age, the ingredients, the origin, and maker. This Ability can be activated once per hour.
Possible Specialisation: [Legendary Archemist] Combine [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] and [Adjust Taste] into the Blessing [Alchemist¡¯s Stone]. Combine [Big Money] and [Lucky Brew] into the Blessing [Marvelous Vessel]. The Milestone [Lucky Break] is not affected. Your efforts in magic and alchemy as an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter] have granted you a legendary status amongst those of your craft. As a [Legendary Archemist] you combine arcane power with chemistry to craft archemical wonders that most can only dream of. [Alchemist¡¯s Stone] ¨C You can crystalize your experience and magic into a wondrous artifact called an Alchemist''s Stone. While holding your Alchemist¡¯s Stone, you are able to use it to cast spells, and learn new spells more easily. Once per day you may use it to transform one cubic meter of an ingredient into some other ingredient. If your stone is ever broken or lost, it will take you one year to slowly crystalize your mana to create a new one. You may only have one [Alchemist¡¯s Stone] at a time. [Marvelous Vessels] ¨C Any containers you use for your crafting are less likely to be dropped or broken, and their contents are less likely to go bad. Additionally, they are capable of containing twice as much as they should. This Ability is always available.
Possible Specialisation: [Lucky Arcane Crafter] Combine [Adjust Taste] and [Lucky Brew] into the Blessing [Loads of Luck]. Combine [Lucky Break] and [Pete¡¯s Miniature Remembrance] into the Blessing [Best Tool For the Job]. The Milestone [Pete¡¯s Poor Manasight] is not affected.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. You worked hard as an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter] to get where you are today, but even you admit that luck had a part. As a [Lucky Arcane Crafter] you store your own luck, bit by bit, until the moment you choose to let it all out. [Loads of Luck] ¨C This Ability will massively increase your luck for a single moment. Alternatively, you can store that luck, and release it at another time of your choosing. Repeated uses of this Ability will stack the luck gained when you finally use it. This Ability can be used once per day. It will activate automatically in times of great need. [Best Tool For the Job] ¨C You can summon an ethereal version of the exact tool you require for the job at hand. The summoned item is masterly crafted, and grants a slight luck bonus to whatever task you are using it for. This Ability can be used once per hour.
I read them over with interest, several times. in particular, two of them ¨C the [Legendary Archemist] and [Barck¡¯s Bartender]. [Lucky Arcane Crafter] and [Otherworldy Crafter of Fortune] were both neat, and definitely fit with my desires as a crafter, but they also felt like more of the same. I¡¯d gone from an [Alchemist] to an [Otherworldly Brewer] to an [Otherworldly Arcane Crafter], and I wanted something more than just a material improvement to my basic abilities this time. I wanted something new. [Lucky Arcane Crafter] would let me craft literal luck, and while that was super cool, we¡¯d seen from the Herder gem brew that passing around free luck could be a bad idea. Now, would I love to fortify Balin and his party with some liquid luck? Sure! But someone else probably had the same Ability, and we were rich enough at this point that we could buy it from them. I¡¯d need to ask the Alchemist¡¯s Guild if someone in Kinshasa had a similar Ability. [Lucky Arcane Crafter] was the flip side. Nothing new for me to craft, but it definitely added to my bag of tricks. If I pumped [Loads of Luck] high enough, I could potentially do some pretty crazy stuff. And [Best Tool For The Job]? Useful, but again¡­ nothing new. Honestly, my heart was really swaying to [Legendary Archemist], even with the goofy name. Seriously, what was an Archemist? But, the alchemist¡¯s stone, bab-ay!! More magic and the ability to transmute ingredients!!! And it doubled as a wand! How cool was that shit! And I didn''t even need to beat up a bespectacled British child to get it! But¡­ [Barck¡¯s Bartender] really filled that itch for something different, and had some interesting connotations. If Barck could make a door to the cellar, would I be able to meet him there? Chat? Boot him in the balls for being such a dick? I was still nursing a grudge over the Birch incident, when he¡¯d locked me out of my escape route and in a roundabout way had forced me into deadly combat with a duck. And how big was a demiplane? Were we talking, like, infinite? I could think of a lot of possible uses for an infinite space, even one that Barck could kick me out of whenever he wanted. Oh, and it could have multiple doors? Could I leave a door here at the Goat then ask Barck for one whenever I needed it? And what brews did it have!? Even with the sorry state of beer in this world, there were other alcohols, and other drinks that Barck must''ve collected. Could there be, like, extra-dimensional beers? Guinness? REGENERATING ELVEN WINE?? *phew* Calm down Pete! It was just wine! By far, it was the most interesting, even if it wasn¡¯t quite as awesome as [Archemist]. Bereft of ideas I reached out to my clan, interrupting the current discussion, which was about using the [Worldstone] to make Erd¡¯s most magical stove. ¡°Alright all. I have two candidates, and I want your opinion, because one of them could impact the Goat,¡± I said once I had everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Uh oh.¡± Aqua tittered. ¡°Pete¡¯s about to throw a hammer in it again!¡± I gave her a glare. ¡°The first is a [Legendary Archemist].¡± Bran held up his hand. ¡°Ho-ooold it! You got a Legendary Specialisation, before me??¡± ¡°That a problem, chef?¡± I asked sweetly. ¡°Got some beef?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you be tart with me, lad!¡± Bran growled. ¡°I cook yer meals!¡± ¡°That¡¯s true, I¡®ve seen you with Opal, you¡¯re definitely cooked!¡± Bran thumped both fists on the table. ¡°Gorram Aaron¡¯s Arse! It¡¯s not fair! I¡¯m the one whose name is on all the food! It¡¯s not like yer the one personally makin¡¯ the beer! I know for a fact that Johnsson and Richter make most of it these days!¡± ¡°I supervise¡­¡± I replied, nettled. ¡°And besides, what¡¯s so special about a Legendary Specialisation? Isn¡¯t it just a name?¡± ¡°It means ¡®dat folk consider you a Legend in ¡®de field,¡± Richter put in. ¡°It¡¯s more than just a combination of yer Milestones, it needs some outside support. ¡®De only other kind like it is ¡®de God Specialisations, where a God needs ta approve of ya.¡± ¡°Funny you should mention that.¡± I grinned. Annie perked up. ¡°Oooh, another God Specialisation? What is it!¡± ¡®Another?¡¯ Bran mouthed, shutting his eyes like a dwarf in pain. In contrast, the Digger family¡¯s eyes all went wide. ¡°Aye. Here, I¡¯ll brief you all on the options.¡± I read the Specialisations and their Blessings out in full, and then did it again as everyone took notes. ¡°[Legendary Archemist].¡± Richter was the first to offer his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of ¡®de [Alchemist¡¯s Stone], and it''s considered one of ¡®de best tools fer a mage. You¡¯ll be able to learn spells faster and cast ¡®em easier. And you¡¯d be able to get rare ingredients more easily. ¡°I vote for [Bartender]. It suits Pete.¡± Bran chuckled. Balin nodded vigorously. I crossed my arms petulantly. ¡°You just don¡¯t want me to be Legendary before you. Sorry Bran, but I¡¯m the Forefather of Brewing now, I¡¯m already a Legend.¡± Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°And here we go. It¡¯s getting to his head.¡± ¡°More for therapy?¡± Annie asked, none too quietly. Aqua nodded emphatically. Annie sighed. ¡°Well, even if it gives him a bigger head, which I¡¯m not sure is possible, I agree with the [Legendary Archemist]. It benefits nearly everything you do, while the [Bartender] is questionable at best. The cellar could be empty for all you know.¡± ¡°Aye, you can brew just about anythin¡¯ or buy just about any brew now,¡± Richter added. ¡° It¡¯s neat, but I t¡¯ink you¡¯d be way happier wit¡¯ learning new spells faster. Think about how long it took you to learn ¡®dat awful bacon spell, and imagine learning it twice as fast.¡± There was general agreement, and I was about to lock it in, when the most unexpected voice spoke out. ¡°Is a Demiplane some kinda dimensional space? Worldstones can upgrade Abilities and Dimensional pockets, so¡­ What if we used the Worldstone on [Barck¡¯s Cellar]?¡± We all stared in incredulity at Bando, who blushed. ¡°By All Tha Bits of Tha Gods,¡± Richter whispered. ¡°What would happen?¡± Book 4, Chapter 8: The Eyes of the Gods Book 4, Chapter 8: The Eyes of the Gods What followed was a lot of yelling, gesticulating, and way too much energy until I finally put my foot down. ¡°No,¡± I grumbled, ¡°Barck¡¯s a dick, and I don¡¯t actually want to associate with him more.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard he was a jolly God, all told,¡± Aqua mused. ¡°Especially compared to some of the more uptight ones, like Lunara or Solen.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t understand, He¡¯s a God. He doesn¡¯t really care about any of us. His plans are across literal eons. He may cherish us, but we are, in essence, bugs to them. Mayflies who provide entertainment and add some paltry meaning to their eternal existence.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a rather uncharitable way of putting it,¡± Balin mumbled. I shook my head. ¡°Not really, Barck¡¯s incredibly brusk and does whatever he feels like. He¡¯s a fine drinking buddy, but I wouldn¡¯t really want to give him any more power over me. Especially something like giving him the ability to deny the use of my Abilities.¡± Bando was throwing confused looks around the room. ¡°Why does it feel like you¡¯re all talkin¡¯ about somethin¡¯ what I don¡¯t know about?¡± His mother patted his head. ¡°Clan business dear, we¡¯ll tell you when you¡¯re older.¡± Bando pointed at me. ¡°He¡¯s younger than me!¡± ¡°Aye, but it¡¯s about him, and it¡¯s rude to point.¡± I sighed, it was getting about time to tell Bando at least part of the truth. Our main reason for keeping it secret was a bit out of the bag with Harmsson, and ever since Bando had become a Titled [Pacifier] he¡¯d mellowed right now. Heck, I¡¯d put him at a step above capable by this point. Annie was even trusting him with running the bar on occasion. Though it would probably take his mother another century to see it. I gave him an apologetic smile. ¡°We¡¯ll tell you in¡­ a couple years, Bando. It¡¯s time sensitive, and you really don¡¯t want to know; it¡¯ll just stress you out.¡± Bando gave me some side-eye, then nodded. ¡°Still, Peter, you should think about it.¡± Richter pushed. ¡°An Ability like ¡®dat is begging ta get evolved, and I can¡¯t imagine what ¡®de Worldstone would do to it! At least consider it! We don¡¯t have any otha options for ¡®de stone that even come close! Imagine, a Godly Ability with a Worldstone! We¡¯d be makin¡¯ history!¡± ¡°Ugh, fine. I¡¯ll think about it.¡± So I did. I shushed everyone and really, seriously thought about it. Did I really want an Ability that tied me closer to Barck? No. That was an easy answer. Plus, [Legendary Archemist] was a straight up power boost to my magical capabilities, and fit me to a T. I wanted it. But I wanted it for me. It wouldn¡¯t do much to benefit the clan, other than by making me a better Brewer, and I was already the best Brewer if the name of the Specialisation was any indication. I¡¯d be a little stronger as a mage, but we already had Richter for that. I¡¯d at most go from a lousy mage to a half-decent one. On the other side of the moustache, if the Worldstone did anything special to the Cellar, the implications could trickle down to generations of my clan, my clan¡¯s allies, and even, well, to my future children. ¡°Richter, can an Ability last after someone¡¯s death?¡± I asked into the respectful silence. Richter hesitated, then nodded. ¡°Depends on the Ability. Things that make somethin¡¯ permanent usually don¡¯t disappear when ¡®de maker dies. Would cause a lot of chaos othawise. [Barck¡¯s Cellar] says it makes a permanent door, so it would probably stay.¡± ¡°Unless Barck decides ta close it.¡± Another hesitation. ¡°Aye. I think he¡¯d need to be real mad at ¡®de clan to do ¡®dat though.¡± I stared at my beer, sitting half¨Cempty in my hand. Barck owed me, well, a lot. When I¡¯d won the brewing finals, my quest completion had even had a personal ¡°Thank you¡± attached. If I asked, he probably wouldn¡¯t interfere with us using his [Cellar]. Or whatever Ability we got when we used the Worldstone on it. I glanced over at Bando. Getting his first Blessings and a Title had completely changed the young dwarf¡¯s entire present and future. He¡¯d gone from a rowdy and impulsive octogenarian child, to a respectable and put together adult. Blessings he''d received by interacting with a God. If there was even a chance, that the [Cellar] would increase the number of Blessings in our clan just by dint of increasing Barck''s eye on us¡­ I had to take it. This wasn¡¯t just about me, it was about the future of my clan. The future of our place on Erd. If I became a better mage, it probably wouldn''t change much, but a possibly infinite plane of alcohol buffed by an artifact of limitless power could be a game changer. And, okay, unlimited elven wine would be nice. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve decided,¡± I said resolutely, surging to my feet. ¡°I¡¯m going to go for [Barck¡¯s Bartender].¡± There were some shocked murmurs, and Balin reached out a hand and clapped it over mine. My hand was trembling, I realized.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Brother,¡± He said, his voice filled with concern. ¡°We can always find a place ta put the Worldstone, and we don¡¯t even know what it¡¯ll do!¡± I nodded, my shaking hands and gaze firming. ¡°Aye, I¡¯m sure. I think that [Legendary Archemist] would be incredible for me. I¡¯d love ta learn new spells faster, and have a powerful magic item ta help me cast magic. But this isn¡¯t just about me. I own a part of the Goat, but more importantly, I¡¯m a member of clan Roughtuff-ne-Goldstone. I think it could be a real boost fer us. So, I¡¯m going to take the [Bartender], Barck be damned. Not for me, but fer us!¡± Everyone sat ramrod straight, and there was a strange chill that came over the room. They all looked around nervously, and Bando actually squeaked. Annie stood, walked over and placed both hands on my shoulders. Her voice dropped low as she stared straight into my eyes and spoke in a cadence I recognized as a memorized script. ¡°Dwarf, do you choose this free of bond and with your own voice? Do you swear before tha Gods that none here or elsewhere force you to make this choice?¡± ¡°Uh,¡± my gaze shifted around the room. Everyone looked super serious. And then there was that chill. ¡°I¡¯m missing somethin¡¯,¡± I whispered to Annie. ¡°Aye, you are,¡± she whispered back, ¡°your choice is yours and yours alone, a reward from the Gods for furthering the growth of the world. There are those that would force Titled to take Specialisations to further their own personal power. The Gods¡­ don¡¯t look kindly on it. If anyone chooses a Title or Specialisation for someone else¡­ ¡± She shivered, and the temperature in the room dropped another notch. ¡°Now, dwarf, tell us true, do you choose this for us or you?¡± ¡°Hurry up and say yes, Pete, or change your damn mind!¡± Bran groused, shivering. He grabbed some pillows and covered himself, burying deep into his makeshift pillowfort and peeking out with bushy black brows. His voice emerged, muffled. ¡°I don¡¯t really care if you want to be a damn Legend! You¡¯d better not be stoppin¡¯ on my account!¡± I licked my lips and looked deep into my heart, because intent always bloody mattered in this world. I had indeed been choosing it for my clan, which might¡¯ve kicked this whole thing off. So I focused; deep down I was still choosing this for me. I wanted this because I wanted my clan to grow more powerful. For my clansmen to become so strong that nobody would ever mess with us again. Hell, that was the entire reason my brother was risking his life in a damn dungeon every day! I wanted my clan to be the very best! Like no one ever was! ¡°Yes, I choose for me.¡± I proclaimed, and my heart meant every word. *Bing*
Specialised! You¡¯ve become [Barck¡¯s Bartender]!
Instantly the icy chill and feeling of pressure dropped away, and everyone let out their collective held breaths. Bran immediately threw off his pillows. ¡°You got it? Open up the cellar, I want to see!¡± ¡°Mmm¡­ don¡¯t want to.¡± I said, giving him a grin. ¡°I don¡¯t want to use the Worldstone on it and regret it, so I¡¯m not going in until the deed¡¯s been done. Are we doing this? Does everyone think it¡¯s a good idea?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a great idea. Bando¡¯s a genius.¡± Richter jumped to his feet and ran out. ¡°I¡¯ll get ¡®de stone. It¡¯ll light up ¡®de place like beacon with magic, so ya better get ready ta use it!¡± ¡°Uh huh. Annie, yer the clan head. What¡¯s yer word?¡± I turned to our erstwhile golden-haired decision maker. ¡°And should we ask the Herders first?¡± Annie sat back down with a grunt and waved me away. ¡°We never would¡¯ve gotten any of it without you, and you just used a precious Specialisation for the Clan. Ironbellows won''t complain. It¡¯s yours, Pete.¡± Balin reached over and the two shared a kiss. Aqua mimed wretching, then gave me a wink. Soon enough Richter arrived with the lockbox and opened it to reveal the scintillating stone. It glowed plenty in regular vision, but was like the surface of the sun in my magical sight. I held my hand up to my eyes, ¡°Okay Richter, how do I use it?¡± Richter chuckled. ¡°How would I know? Everything I know I got from books of legends. Nobody¡¯s used one in millenia, and ¡®dat was just to make ¡®de Kinshasa teleportation circle. Here, hold it and try thinkin¡¯ at it, or shoving some mana in.¡± I gingerly took the stone in my hand, expecting a tingle or shock or something. ¡°Huh, it¡¯s cold,¡± I muttered. ¡°It¡¯s a rock,¡± Bran grunted, ¡°Course it¡¯s cold.¡± I stuck my tongue out at him. ¡®¡°Here goes nothing,¡± I said, and willed something to happen. *Bing*
Activate Worldstone? Would you like to use this Worldstone on the Ability [Barck¡¯s Cellar]? Warning, this is irreversible. Do you accept? Yes / No
I gulped and chose ¡®yes¡¯. There was another flash of light, and I felt a tingle as magic roared out of the Worldstone and into me. And just as fast as it started, it stopped. *Bing!*
Ability Improved! Your [Barck¡¯s Cellar] has evolved into [Dimensional Dungeon: Unnamed]! Barck may remove people from the section of the Demiplane containing his Cellar, but not from the greater dungeon. Your Ability will be unavailable for 8 days, 4 hours as it stabilizes.
¡°Well, that looks promising.¡± I said brightly, pulling up and reading the Ability aloud to everyone. My heart was hammering in my chest. Did that mean what I thought it meant?
[Dimensional Dungeon: Unnamed] ¨C Grants you access to a demiplane modeled upon the intersection of the lived experiences of Peter Roughtuff and the God Barck¡¯s Cellar. Barck¡¯s brews cannot be removed from the cellar except by his say-so, and will refill after one month has passed. Any food or drink placed in the cellar will never go bad, and will stop maturing when it reaches the ideal age. You may activate this Ability once per day, creating a permanent door to the dimension that anyone can use to freely leave and enter. When you use this Ability again, any older doors are destroyed. Barck may also create or destroy doors to this space whenever and wherever he wishes and remove people from the part of the Demiplane connected to his Cellar if he chooses.
As I finished reading the Ability description, Darrel actually hiccuped, and Richter choked. ¡°Well,¡± Annie said, stunned, ¡°That¡¯s¡­ something.¡± ¡°Aye¡­¡± Balin complained. ¡°It¡¯s unfinished is what it is. Got no name and ¡®unavailable¡¯? Shoddy workmanship, that.¡± Book 4, Chapter 9: Kinshasa Adventuring Guild Eight days isn¡¯t that long, just a week, but it¡¯s forever when you¡¯re waiting for an Ability to ¡®stabilize¡¯. Of course, dwarven society being what it was, I couldn¡¯t just open a portal to a dungeon in the middle of the city, there were forms to be filled and rules to follow. Portal Abilities were rare, but did exist, usually for Specialisations linked to Aaron, the God of exchange. So, it was back to City Hall, where I waited in lines, filled some forms, waited in more lines, used my nobility to skip said lines ¨C rank hath its privilege ¨C then filled more forms. The one big upside to all of this bureaucracy was that I didn¡¯t have to wait the weeks or months extra that it would¡¯ve taken me to get all the approvals and paperwork done on Earth. Unfortunately, it turned out that while portal abilities were rare, Dungeon portals were¡­ a little more rare. I paid a rather exorbitant license, agreed to a contract that stipulated a certain percentage of my dungeon¡¯s value would need to be paid to the city to help ensure security. Additionally, I was going to need to hire an expeditionary team, and the first opening of the dungeon would have to be in a special space set aside for dangerous Ability testing. And it would need to be overseen by the army. The city wanted to know if A) monsters could come out of the door, and B) if people could come out of the door and use the dungeon to launch an invasion. Option A had been Balin¡¯s first concern, but B hadn¡¯t occurred to any of us. It was obvious in retrospect, but none of us thought like weasley military folk. So it was that I found myself in the Adventurer¡¯s guild, flirting with the lovely red-bearded easterner receptionist, and filling out more paperwork. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild was located in Greywall right near Scout¡¯s Crossing. It was a quick trek across the bridge to Deepcore Dungeon¡¯s entrance down on the banks of Darkwater. It was meant to act as a forward base of both people and supplies in case of a Dungeon Break or Stampede. The building was even more ostentatious than Minnova¡¯s, with enormous stoney rib-bones lining the outer walls and the heads of various monsters hanging off nearly every vertical surface. It had a similar layout to Minnova¡¯s guild as well, with a cavernous underground interior dedicated to a bar and reception area. It had three total floors, which made it even bigger than the shopping district we¡¯d seen in Gemena. I put it roughly equal in size to a shopping mall¡¯s mezzanine area from back on Earth. I was in the middle of a one-liner about a barber dwarf and his beard being parted, and was getting some solid giggles from the receptionist, when I heard a voice behind me. ¡°Hey, is that Balin¡¯s brother?¡± ¡°I think it is. Pete! What¡¯re you doin¡¯ here, eh?¡± I turned away from the suddenly scowling receptionist to see Balin¡¯s adventuring team, Brightstar, coming up to the counter. Starshine of Silverlight led the way, with her sleek close-cropped brown beard and confident demeanor. She smiled affably with a twinkle even brighter than her namesake silver plate armour. She was the leader of the group and the foil to Balin¡¯s Goldenlight moniker. A Titled [Juggernaut], she never took her armor off unless it was getting repaired. Beside her was her best friend and confidant, Raysdotter. The ruddy black-bearded and black-leather clad [Priest] strutted with flair like a BDSM nun out of a lurid romance novel. She held her hands behind her head in seeming boredom, but her eyes kept glancing sharply into the dark corners of the room. As the group¡¯s cleric she served as their scout and healer. Skipping after them in her contrasting white robes was the party¡¯s [Lightbringer] mage, Aishablue. The permed South Erden gnomess waved cheerily as they approached. Her warm brown complexion was unique, matched only by a stout dwarven warrior sitting in the back of the room. Southerners were quite rare in Crack, as they not only had to brave the old roads, but also make the trek across continents. A white haired and bespectacled gnome followed aimlessly behind the party, bumping off passersby who glared then shied away when they saw what he was doing. He had some vicious looking knives out and was shaving bits and pieces from a small glass dragonfly. Every once in a while he swore viciously at a mistake only he could see. That was Flowerpott, their eclectic [Golemancer]. I¡¯d met them on-and-off when they came to the pub, usually to drop off or pick up Balin. My brother was absent from the group today, having taken the day off from adventuring to do some carpentry around the Thirsty Goat. ¡°Hullo everyone! Nice ta see you! I¡¯m just doin¡¯ some paperwork.¡± I waved back. ¡°Ya trainin¡¯ in the training halls?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Raysdotter shook her head. ¡°We¡¯re keeping an eye out for interesting quests. The board was pretty empty last time, and it isn¡¯t really worth it to dive deep into the dungeon without any, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°I still think we should spend some time farming supplies on Whitehall beach.¡± Flowerpott said, glancing up hopefully. ¡°You just want to get some rare sands for your glass.¡± Starshine rolled her eyes. ¡°I already told you, I¡¯m not putting this team in danger just for that!¡± ¡°Danger! As if Whitehall presents any danger to us at this point!¡± Flowerpott grumped. ¡°There¡¯s always a danger!¡± Starshine snapped, then launched into a lecture. Flowerpott groaned and tried his best to ignore her, which only got her going harder. ¡°How are you doing, Peter?¡± Aishablue asked, walking up beside me. She was short for a gnomess, nearly as tiny as Raspberrysyrup, and her head just barely came above the counter. Her voice had the lilt I associated with a Punjabi accent ¨C a little quirk of my translation Ability that I¡¯d gotten used to at this point. ¡°Doin¡¯ well. I just got Specialised.¡± I held myself up proudly. ¡°Again?¡± She gave me side-eye. ¡°You are even faster than Balin.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°What can I say, I¡¯m a hard worker.¡± ¡°Mm-hm.¡± ¡°That¡¯s actually why I¡¯m here. I got, well, somethin¡¯ special from my Specialisation, nyuck!¡± ¡°Mmhmm. You are not the first person to make that particular joke and will not be the last. Let us be the judge if it is special. What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s special enough that I need ta register it with the guild.¡± I waggled my eyebrows, pointing down at the paperwork. ¡°That¡¯s what you are doing? That is special. So what is it?¡± She stood on tiptoes to peek over the counter. I swept the paperwork up and passed it to the receptionist. She smiled at me and frowned faintly at Aishablue, pointing up to the second floor balcony. ¡°Brightstar, there were several new Gold level quests posted this morning. They¡¯re up on the board on the second floor.¡± Aishablue ignored her. ¡°Are you free for drinks? We haven¡¯t been by the Goat since before we fought the Carminecarp, it would be nice to catch up.¡± ¡°Sure, I¡¯d be happy to. Let me finish here and I¡¯ll come join you.¡± The party filed past and up the stairs and I resumed doing paperwork with the now-slightly-deflated receptionist. It took almost an hour of stamps, signatures, reading, double-checking, and a runner down to the Guild Master for final approval, but I now had everything necessary to open my very own dungeon. Everything but one piece, which I was about to get. I found team Brightstar at one of the central tables in the bar. They were all face deep in their mugs, except Aishablue who was sipping demurely at a teacup. Raysdotter spotted me first and waved me over, sending Flowerpott to go get a fresh round of drinks. I sat down with a groan. ¡°Ugh, between city hall and the guild I must¡¯ve spent a solid seven or eight hours doing paperwork today.¡± ¡°That long?¡± Starshine¡¯s brows raised. ¡°What on Erd did you get?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you as soon as Flowerpott is back with those drinks.¡± I stretched my back and groaned. We made smalltalk until Flowerpott returned with a tray full of traditional dwarven tankards. Whistlemugs were popular, but Whistlemop was still limiting sales to keep demand high. Plus, glass didn¡¯t go well in the more violent bars, which the adventurer¡¯s guild absolutely was. ¡°Thanks Flowerpott.¡± I took mine and drained half of it in a single gulp, then activated my new Blessing. *Bing* Discerning Palate Maker: Johnathan Schist Origin: Kinshasa, Crack Ingredients: Yeast, Pineweed, Water, Eastern Erdroot, Bitterleaf, Citrustree Bark, Puffball Mushroom I wiped my lips with happiness. ¡°Ah, one of Riverside¡¯s new brews. Excellent.¡± I needed to use [Discerning Palate] on our Goldstone New Brew so I could finally know the secret ingredients to the Goldstone Bitters! Annie would pop! ¡°I kind of miss their old Sacred Brew.¡± Starshine sighed. ¡°But the new stuff is good too.¡± ¡°These sours make all the rigamarole of the last year worth it.¡± Flowerpott said brightly as he dug into his mug. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you dwarves were hogging this stuff for so long.¡± ¡°Just the sours? What about the voting? The citizen¡¯s council? The gnomes in the government?¡± Raysdotter asked with a hint of amusement. The obsessive gnome spat. ¡°Bah, politics. Who cares?¡± ¡°Okay, now spill, Pete.¡± Aishablue said, a little more forcefully this time. Everyone leaned forward to listen conspiratorially. I held for a suspenseful breath, then spilled. ¡°I got a new Ability that allows me ta create a dungeon in a separate dimension. We haven¡¯t opened it yet ¨C we were waitin¡¯ on city and Guild approval ¨C but that¡¯s all done now. Sometime next week we¡¯re gonna open it up in a secured location and send a team in to investigate.¡± Five mouths dropped open in shock. Raysdotter was the first to recover. ¡°Whooee! That is something all right! Clan Goldstone is planning to become the next of the big clans, eh? With the Blackbeards gone there¡¯s definitely space.¡± I grinned. ¡°The thought has crossed our minds.¡± ¡°A private dungeon only you can enter? I¡¯ve heard of Abilities like that, but only in legend.¡± Starshine raised her mug in a toast. ¡°Congratulations, you¡¯ve made it big!¡± There was a general toast and cheers. Raysdotter slapped me on the back with enough force to shove me into the table with a *whoof*. ¡°Anyways,¡± I readjusted my armor. ¡°I need a team ta scout the dungeon. They told me I need at least a Silver or Gold level team. I asked fer somethin¡¯ higher, but they turned me down.¡± The adventuring team levels were Bronze, Silver, Gold, Mithril, and Adamantine. All teams started at Bronze, and became silver when they reached their first Teleportation Point in any dungeon. Gold was for beating a boss, Mithril for having all members twice-Specialized, and Adamantine could only be given by the King himself. Starshine nodded. ¡°Bronze and Silver would be too weak, and Mithril and Adamantine teams are too rare and important to send into an unknown dungeon. A Gold Team¡¯s about right. The pay would need to be good though.¡± I set my drink down on the table and said seriously, ¡°The pay is good, no taxes on anything they get fer the first hundred years of delving into tha dungeon, plus five thousand gold. Oh, and guaranteed adventuring lanes.¡± ¡°What a deal.¡± Flowerpott sighed. I nodded. ¡°Which is why I want a team I know and trust ta do it.¡± It took a moment, but the armored sock dropped. ¡°You want us to do it?¡± Starshine gawped. ¡°We only just became Gold after beating the Carminecarp! We¡¯ve barely been adventuring for three years!¡± ¡°Sure, which makes getting Gold already impressive enough. But you¡¯ve also helped beat back a Dungeon Break with those Shaleshark, and made a name for yourself, Miss Silverlight!¡± I shot back. Sarshine shook her head. ¡°If your dungeon gets big, it could land whoever scouts it in the history books. And all dungeons get big. Are you sure you don¡¯t want an older or more famous team?¡± ¡°Who cares!? He offered, take it, Starshine! We accept, Pete!¡± Raysdotter was practically jumping up and down. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of a new dungeon too much.¡± Flowerpott frowned. ¡°What if it¡¯s all just poison swamp? And filled with nothing but boss monsters?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a young dungeon, the monsters should still be quite weak.¡± Aishablue smiled beatifically. ¡°I would very much like to be, as Starshine said, in the history books.¡± Starshine looked around at all the eager faces and sighed. ¡°What does Balin say about it?¡± I smirked. ¡°Eh, he¡¯s fine with it, but thought you wouldn¡¯t go for it. I said I could convince you.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s a pleasure to be working for you, boss.¡± There was a spitting sound from her helm, and then she pulled her sopping wet beard out the front of her faceplate and held it forward. I hocked in my own beard then took it in hand to shake spit-beards. ¡°Let our beards and our words be one. Here¡¯s to a long and prosperous relationship.¡± ¡°Dwarves¡­¡± Flowerpott muttered. Book 4, Chapter 10: A Weak Rock Dear diary, it¡¯s nice to finally start writing again after so long. I had to shelve you (sorry) at the request of my lawyer, back during all that nonsense with Harmsson and his little Graveyard Rebellion. Since then a lot has changed! I¡¯m a Lord now, a high muckity muck of the nth degree, and best buds with not one, but two Dukes! Which means nobody¡¯s coming after my diary anymore, no siree! Until they do, since apparently, high muckity muck is back on the menu these days. Just ask the Blackbeards. What else has changed¡­ I¡¯m a Specialised Bartender now, of a sort. A God¡¯s bartender in fact! I have the special job of telling Barck himself the texture of his bar. Is his bar tender? I don¡¯t know yet, but I¡¯ll take a munch and report in a week! And speaking of a week, I have a busy one, and an important one, which is why I¡¯ve decided to write it down here. I want to have it all recorded in case, well, things don¡¯t go according to plan. My Ability unlocks in seven days, and may bring wrath and ruin to the world. So, wish me luck, diary! Peter Roughtuff, over and out! 17th day of the 1st Month, 8001: Monday ¨C Imagine Dragons Day 1. Today I went and did battle with that most fearsome of dragons ¨C the vicious, the horrible, the ankle-biting, foul-mouthed, rainbow-suited Whistlemop! My most dear frenemy, he who was first to screw me over in my new world (even if I didn¡¯t find out immediately). We mostly chatted about the business we co-owned, though he was doing pretty much all the work these days. I was tapped out of business advice to give him, and he was buying up capital and expanding his glass empire at a rapid pace. Our last few projects were various pieces of glasswork beer paraphernalia. Pretty much anything that wasn¡¯t quite technical enough for Copperpot to get his grubby mitts on. That included hydrometers, carboys, a bottle stick, and now a pressure release valve. There¡¯ve been a few explosions and injuries amongst all the new craft brewers, and he and I decided (out of the goodness of our own hearts, of course!) to add combination pressure relief valves and carboys to our business empire. As the ¨C ugh ¨C Forefather of Brewing, I have a sense of responsibility for my new craft brewing brothers and sisters. There are a lot of pitfalls to brewing that aren¡¯t obvious if you don¡¯t have access to the internet, like understanding what the various bad smells mean, or how to spot a good vs bad yeast, or knowing that letting beer ferment in a fully enclosed barrel or glass carboy can have explosive results. See one Annie Goldstone, per example. We also did our year-end financials, and let me tell you, there were a lot of zeros. All the gold from Jean Herder¡¯s treasure was starting to feel like a drop in the bucket. Was this what billionaires felt like on earth? Whistlemop made some noises about buying out my stake in his business, and I told him I¡¯d put some serious thought into it. He wanted full ownership because he and a certain [Butler] were now engaged to be married! Why, I remember when Bimbleberry first came to the Goat, trying to become our server. We¡¯d chosen Kirk instead, but I¡¯d connected her with Whistlemop, and now they were connected, if you know what I mean! Whistlemop hated that joke, by the way. For future reference, I still own a commanding stake in Whistlemop¡¯s Emporium, and plan to keep it for at least the next few decades. I told Whistlemop that I¡¯ll consider dropping down to a 15% stake after his future children help turn his business into one of the great gnomish oligarchical corporations. 18th day of the 1st Month, 8001: Tuesdays¡¯ Gone ¨C Lynyrd Skynyrd Day 2. I went to the Duke of the North today and told him I was doing the thing! He asked what thing, and I made it clear that I would indeed be his patsy/ambassador for the elven brewing lessons. He said Huzzah! And he was more than willing to grant me my request that the Goat (and our people) be given access to Kinshasa¡¯s famous and vaunted teleportation square. I said Huzzah! Then I told him about my new Ability, and there were decidedly less Huzzahs. I now counted as a national asset, and depending on the results of my dungeon test, a weapon of mass destruction. It meant my security would need to be tighter, and that Awemedinand would need my Abilities examined by a [Statustician] before I¡¯d be allowed in. He was, of course, overjoyed for me, and would be coming to the grand unveiling of my Ability at the ¡®secure location¡¯, which even he couldn¡¯t tell me where it was. And, I couldn¡¯t officially become the ambassador until it was all done. We spent the rest of our time discussing brewing and fishing. He hadn¡¯t been to the brewery in quite a while, having passed most of his brewing duty to his new Master Brewer, a young dwarf by the name of Buck. I asked him to have Buck stop by the goat. Just so I could do the joke one day. We agreed to go fishing later this week, then parted ways.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow. 19th day of the 1st Month, 8001: Wednesday Morning 3AM ¨C Simon and Garfunkle Day 3. I spent today with the Duke of the West, the most illustrious and beatifical Iris Barnes. Or rather, I spent the day with my dear friend Tourmaline, and her mother invited herself along for the ride. My relationship with the Duchess is an odd one to be sure. I get the distinct feeling that she¡¯s trying to set me up with her daughter, but she feels indebted to me and doesn¡¯t want to push it too hard. On top of that, I¡¯m not interested, and Tourmaline is a bit too straight-laced to catch on. We mostly talked about politics, unfortunately. Duke Barnes is quite insistent that I be up to date on all the latest la-di-dah. My lessons included the current high fashion ¨C no longer the colour crimson, the current geopolitical survey ¨C peaceful, and the state of the Citizen Councils popping up around Crack ¨C fraught. Duke Schist must¡¯ve been talking to her, because we also discussed elven dining etiquette and common faux pas. For example ¨C elves were consummate thrill seekers, because if they ¡®died¡¯, they could just regrow. Also, no belching to signify enjoyment of meals, or using hands to eat meat. The elves used chopsticks of all things. The Duke was quite pleased by how ¡®quickly I adapted¡¯ to using two skinny sticks to eat salami and pickles. As a once-upon-a-time sushi fiend, it was old hat. When Tourmaline and I were able to get words in edgewise, we talked about her newest alchemical discoveries. Since she was no longer completely absorbed with healing her mother, she¡¯d been putting her efforts into something rather interesting ¨C yeast. With the advent of craft brewing, she wanted to get her name on the books as the inventor of the next multi-generational batch of Ancestral Seed. She had a room full of test yeasts bubbling away, and she had hopes that the Thirsty Goat would test them in some of our brews. I had to deny her, and instead set about connecting her with a few up-and-comer craft brewers with too much time on their hands. What she needed was lots of small batches, and the Goat was well past that point. The last item of discussion was a concerning one ¨C the increase in monster attacks. One of the South Erden dwarven city-states had been ransacked by orcish tribes stampeding from a nearby dungeon. Orcs were dumb animals in this world, which made their sudden organization and use of tactics a serious concern amongst the high nobility. On that happy note we parted with promises to meet again, possibly in Awemedinand. I am noting here, for posterity, that she asked to come visit me in the elven Kingdom. I did not kidnap her or plan to sweep her away to a far off land to elope, no matter how much her mother looked wistful at the thought. 20th day of the 1st Month, 8001: Thursday¡¯s Child ¨C David Bowie Even God needs a day of rest, and mine was today. Day 4, Fishin¡¯. Me and the boys went and caught ourselves a passel of snapper today. Just me, Balin, Schist, Schist¡¯s Guards, and Ironbellows. We talked about life, the universe, and nothing. I caught two cave trout! It was a right good time, at least until the monsters attacked. A whole swarm of meter tall bipedal canine-molerat-like creatures burst from the canyon walls next to the docks and began grabbing every fish, folk, or finger they could get their little paws on. They¡¯d tunneled out of the dungeon and directly to the docks, bypassing all the usual security and excavating a nearly mile-long tunnel that was full of the little buggers. Later, Balin told me they were called Kobolds, denizens of Deepcore¡¯s Stone Forest. They dug through stone and sand with their elongated front teeth and were more annoying than dangerous. They kept to small family units and survived on refuse from Deepcore¡¯s Sandsea. That wasn¡¯t the case today, there were scads of ¡®em! They fought with frightful efficiency, attacking when it was advantageous and falling back when they were injured. They seemed most interested in the fishing equipment, preferring to steal bait and tackle when they could¡¯ve instead smashed some bait and tackle. Thankfully between Balin and Duke Schist¡¯s guards we were able to hold them off long enough for the army to reinforce us and drive them back. Then the [Mattershapers] arrived and slammed the tunnel shut, locking them inside. When the army was ready, they opened the tunnel back up and stormed in to find¡­ nothing. The kobolds had retreated all the way back to Deepcore. It was all decidedly un-monsterly according to Balin, who was shaken by the ordeal. Surprisingly, there weren¡¯t any deaths other than a few Kobolds. I¡¯m very glad that we turned the Thirsty Goat into a veritable fortress over the past year. On that note, if the key to the panic room has been lost or misplaced, the spare is in the third cleft from the right in my hidden alcove. 21st day of the 1st Month, 8001: Friday ¨C Rebecca Black Day 5. Who can forget the feeling of a Friday, of leaving school or work and getting the weekend off? Who can forget the awful songs it spawned? Not me! In a world with 8 days, and no day or night, and hard work resulting in literal gifts from the Gods, weekends aren¡¯t really a thing. Which made meeting with a professor at the end of my long week especially excruciating. At least Copperpot was congenial as always, and served me up a real smorgasbord as we chatted. We didn¡¯t talk about tech, surprisingly enough. With my [Remembrance] Ability gone, and his brewing industry fully geared up, we didn¡¯t have much engineering to discuss. What else I could share beyond brewing was general at best, and I wasn¡¯t comfortable teaching concepts like nuclear energy with a literal Einstein. Instead we talked about beer. Sours, mostly. The local gnomish population was going nuts over it, and it even outsold some of Pot Corporation''s most popular teas last month. He was very sorry to lose me to Awemedinand, and made me promise not to sell or give away any of my tech there. I mean, I¡¯ll try, but no promises. 22nd day of the 1st Month, 8001: Saturday¡¯s Child ¨C The Monkees Day 6. Taxes! Come get your taxes! It¡¯s the start of the year, and it¡¯s tax time once more. This time Duke Barne¡¯s personal auditor came to audit our accounts on account of the treasure. She was quick and fastidious, and very polite with the shakedown. She left quite a bit heavier, and left me a lot lighter. Annie cried. 23rd day of the 1st Month, 8001: Never on a Sunday ¨C The Chordettes Day 7. I slept in today. I¡¯m a Godsdamn millionaire and my one day of rest this week was ruined by rat-things. So, I sleep. In my bed, in my alcove, in the sauna, in the hot spring, in the library, on the floor. Wherever. Tomorrow is the big day, and I need to save my energy. At least, that¡¯s what I told Aqua when she found me sleeping on the dining room table. 24th day of the 1st Month, 8001: D¨CDay Today¡¯s the big day. Let¡¯s go see how much I lucked out or messed up. Book 4, Chapter 11: Balin – Into The Unknown Balin gave Annie a hug and a kiss. ¡°I promise, we¡¯ll be back soon, love.¡± ¡°You¡¯d better be!¡± His golden haired love gave him a thump on the chest before heading back to join the clan. ¡°Well, this should be fun, eh?¡± Raysdotter said chipperly. She adjusted the clasps on her black studded leather armor. ¡°Just keep smiling and look confident.¡± Starshine muttered, waving at an adventurer she recognized in the crowd. ¡°I¡¯m going to be sick. There¡¯re two Dukes here!¡± ¡°At least your face is hidden behind your visor, and if you throw up it will all just pool in your armor. Not all of us are so lucky!¡± Aishablue whined. ¡°Gods damn it, Pete! You never said it would be a show!¡± Balin chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s me brother. How could it be anythin¡¯ but a spectacle?¡± The ¡®Grand Opening¡¯ as his brother was calling it was being held in a secret space deep within the Army Barracks in Blackwall. They¡¯d needed to get special passes to get in, before they were blindfolded, had their Abilities suppressed by a [Blank], then were led through twisting tunnels to where they now were ¨C a cavernous black space where every wall was made of adamantine, and there wasn¡¯t a single door to be seen. For it''s sheer size, it was still packed with people. There was the full Thirsty Goat family, including Kirk, who was looking relieved that he didn¡¯t have to duck for once. Duke Schist was in attendance with a collection of city officials, all of whom were milling about making sure their paperwork was in order. And finally there were Duke Barnes and her armed guards, all of whom looked vaguely amused at the chaos. Then there were the mages and [Engineers] from the army, who were constantly running to and fro, checking runes and defenses to ensure everything was in working order. The center of the space was dominated by a thick stone wall that must¡¯ve been freshly built. That was clearly where Pete was meant to activate his new Ability. The only member of the party unaffected by the chaos surrounding them was Flowerpott, who was busy fussing over his deadly glass mantis golem, Manny. ¡°Pete¡¯s opening the door in five minutes. Last roll call. Any changes?¡± Starshine asked. Aishablue traced some sigils in the air and light flared to life over her head, then winked out. ¡°My wand is working perfectly!¡± Flowerpott finished sharpening Manny¡¯s blade arms then went glass-eyed himself as he transferred his perception and control. Above, a dozen little glass dragonflies flitted about as Flowerpott used one of his newest Abilities, [Remote Control], to take full control of each, testing their functionality. ¡°Nope,¡± he said as his eyes regained their spark. Raysdotter swung her mace to and fro, then frowned. ¡°I really should Specialize, but dammit, Pete¡¯s got me thinkin¡¯, y¡¯know? I should wait until I have the perfect Milestones.¡± ¡°Early Specialization worked for me. A [Living Crystalmancer] and I only tossed three good Abilities into the pot.¡± Flowerpott smirked. Raydotter stuck her tongue out at him. Balin checked all his own equipment, not that his magically summoned golden plate was ever anything but perfect. As a [Shining Banneret] his job was on the front line, and it was vital that his sword never falter and his shield never break. His brother, the inestimable Peter Roughtuff, sauntered over, hands comfortably wreathed behind his head. ¡°Are you ready team?¡± ¡°Of course, Pete.¡± Pete suddenly looked flabbergasted. ¡°What? I thought you were Team Brightstar, and now you¡¯re telling me you¡¯re actually Ready Team? Where¡¯d my mercenaries go??¡± Raysdotter, Aishablue, and Starshine looked confused, but Flowerpott burst into laughter. Pete gave the gnome a big grin, and was given one in return. ¡°Some big names here today, Pete.¡± Balin said, gesturing around the room as he smiled and nodded. The two Dukes and their entourages were especially resplendent, in dark black and gold. That combination had been the clan colours of the Blackbeards since forever, and its rapidly propagating use amongst the nobility was tacit confirmation that the aforementioned clan had lost all power. That, and it looked snappy. ¡°Uh huh, are you all ready?¡± Pete asked. ¡°Aye, we are.¡± Starshine nodded with a snappy fist to her chest. ¡°You can count on us Lord Roughtuff.¡± ¡°Heh. Great. Anyways, I¡¯ve been told by the army that we have tha go ahead, so everyone¡¯s gonna clear out and watch in tha scryin¡¯ room. This place has more bells and whistles than Copperpot¡¯s lab!¡± ¡°What about you?¡± Balin asked with concern. ¡°Eh, I have ta stick around to use the Ability, so hopefully nothin¡¯ comes rushin¡¯ right out. Army¡¯s right outside if we need ¡®em though.¡± Raysdotter immediately started checking her equipment again, and Aishablue looked wan at the thought. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s a brand new dungeon.¡± Starshine shook her head. She reached out and patted Pete on the shoulder with a gauntleted hand. ¡°We¡¯ll come back with good news, promise.¡± Pete smiled back, though his complexion was a bit wan. A section of the outer wall rose silently and everyone began to file out with calls of ¡®Barck¡¯s Luck¡¯ and ¡®Gods be with ya!¡¯. Soon only Team Brightstar and Pete were left in the room. ¡°This all feels really sci-fi-y.¡± Pete shivered. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Flowerpott asked. ¡°Erm. A genre of books about science, except it¡¯s fiction. Like, imagining the future.¡± ¡°You mean prophecy? I think that¡¯s all bupkis.¡± Flowerpott stuck out his tongue. ¡°I dunno, fate does exist.¡± Aishablue jumped in. ¡°Only so much as it can be changed.¡± Flowerpott shot back. ¡°I prophesize that we shall soon enter a dungeon!¡± Raydsotter intoned. The party began to bicker and Balin sighed. ¡°ENOUGH!¡± Starshine hiss/shouted. ¡°They¡¯re all still watching us from the scrying room, you idiots.¡± There was a moment of awkward silence until a runed commstone in Pete¡¯s hand flickered to life. Duke Barnes¡¯s voice came through it, slightly choked. ¡°We are good to go, Lord Roughtuff. Please activate your Ability. If nothing comes out, we will re-open the door and have you head out until Team Brightstar comes back.¡± ¡°Alrighty then. Here we go.¡± Pete walked up to the stone wall and placed his hands on it, then shouted, ¡°[Dimensional Dungeon]!¡± ¡°Formation one! Around Pete!¡± Starshine snapped, and the team sprang into action, quickly pulling Pete back from the door and surrounding him.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. There was an anticlimactic moment. Just long enough for Pete to look around, confused, before with a silent *snap* an ornate wooden door appeared on the wall. It was a dark oak affair, with shining bronze bands and thick hinges. The handle was made of brass, and the door was meant to swing outwards. It was just tall enough for someone of Kirk¡¯s giant stature to walk through. The team waited for a solid minute, but nothing came rushing out. Finally, Starshine thrust her hand forward. ¡°Pete, time to go. Team, surround the door. Me and Balin in front.¡± Pete gave them a salute and ran to the hidden exit, which pulled up then slammed close behind him. As the team approached the surprisingly pretty door, Balin was able to make out a carving on the front. It was a goat drinking a tankard of beer. It looked like¡­ ¡°Is that¡­ Penelope?¡± Aishablue asked, leaning forward. ¡°I¡­ think it is?¡± Balin gasped. He ran his fingers along the carving, marveling at the sheer excellent workdwarfship on display. As a carpenter, he knew wood, and this was good work. Flowerpott walked around to the other side of the wall and proclaimed, ¡°Nothing on the back, it¡¯s just a stone wall!¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s enough gawping. Let¡¯s get to what we¡¯ve been paid to do.¡± Starshine pulled a commstone from her pocket and activated it. ¡°Duke Barnes? We¡¯re heading in.¡± The Duke¡¯s voice emerged from the tiny runestone a moment later. ¡°Very good. You said the door had Penelope on it? As in, the Thirsty Goat¡¯s Penelope?¡± ¡°Aye, it looks almost identical to our sign.¡± Balin muttered. ¡°Copycat.¡± Starshine pulled the door open slightly, revealing a warmly lit curtain of light. It looked like sunlight beaming through a glass of beer. Flowerpott sent his glassflies in first. They passed through the curtain of light with nary a ripple, then vanished. A moment later he sighed. ¡°No, I can¡¯t use [Remote Control] across the dimensional barrier. I¡¯ve lost contact.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯m up. [Minor Blessing: Nothingness], [Shadowcloak], [Encourage: Dexterity]!¡± Raydotter muttered as she entered. A nail biting minute went by, and then the black bearded dwarfess stuck her head back out. ¡°Formation five, everyone. You should see this. Aisha, lights on.¡± Aishablue lifted her wand and traced some quick sigils, causing a globe of light to hover over her head. Flowerpott gave Manny a quick command and the mantis slunk into the door right behind Raysdotter. Balin and the rest of the party squared their shoulders and followed shortly after. Balin felt a slight tingle as he passed through the door, before he was plunged into darkness as the light spell over Aishablue sputtered and went out. ¡°Balin,¡± Starshine snapped, ¡°Aisha! Stealth check!¡± Balin activated his [Shining Armaments] and his and Starshine¡¯s weapons began to glow brightly. A second later, Aishablue intoned ¡°[Revealing Light]! [Inner Light]!¡± and a wave of golden light erupted out from her to wash over their surroundings. What was revealed was¡­ surprising. Rows upon rows of picnic style tables, a scuffed wooden floor, and a five meter wide aisle directly in front of them that stretched into the darkness. To their right, a bar was just visible beneath a large open serving window that led to a space that looked like it might be a kitchen. The wall alongside their entry door held a yawning unlit fireplace, while the furthest wall was impossible to pick out of the gloom. It was deathly silent and smelled faintly of wood oil. ¡°It¡¯s tha Thirsty Goat¡­¡± Balin whispered. He couldn¡¯t believe his eyes, but, it really was! He ran a finger over a table. ¡°It¡¯s clean¡­¡± ¡°Dunno about that¡­ is the Goat so¡­ big and tall?¡± Raysdotter asked, craning her neck upwards. The rest of the team followed suit, staring up, and up. The space above them was an atrium with a second floor balcony overlooking the pub ¨C a third and fourth floor balcony were visible in the light until darkness swallowed everything once more. ¡°How big is it?¡± Aishablue whispered. ¡°Dungeons can get big.¡± Starshine shrugged. ¡°Though this one feels weird. Formation Six, let¡¯s start with this floor then move up. After a solid hour of searching the first floor they returned to the entryway to discuss. Much as Balin had said, it looked almost identical to the Thirsty Goat in Kinshasa, complete with goat doors for Penelope, a big empty room for brewing equipment, Bran¡¯s fully operational kitchen, and the truly gargantuan bar. It was absent of any decor or warmth, but it was otherwise a perfect match. All multiplied by a factor of ten. Starshine organized what they¡¯d found so far. ¡°A lot of furniture. No windows. A fully functioning bathroom?? Two sets of stairs, one up, one down, and two doors ¨C one the way we came and another that leads out, perhaps? And nothing else. Does that sound right?¡± Everyone nodded. ¡°I sent my glassflies up with a solstone. It¡¯s about ten storeys, all the same halls of doors. What I could get into looked like plain bedrooms. There were¡­ exactly two hundred and sixteen doors on the first floor, so at least two thousand rooms. And it looks like there¡¯s enough seating for a few thousand on the ground floor. I put it at about three hundred meters by over five hundred.¡± Flowerpott mused. ¡°Bar¡¯s a single slab of wood. Dunno what tree gets that big!¡± Balin marveled. ¡°Gods, it¡¯s the biggest pub ever.¡± Raysdotter groaned. ¡°I couldn¡¯t imagine being a waiter here.¡± Everyone turned to look at Balin, and he blanched. ¡°I don¡¯t do tha¡¯ waitin¡¯ fer tha¡¯ Goat. That¡¯s Kirk and Aqua and Bando¡¯s jobs. Kirk might enjoy the challenge. Aqua would freak. Bando would¡­ Bando.¡± Starshine frowned. ¡°But nothing else. Nobody spotted anything suspicious? Hid some treasure away?¡± Everyone shook their heads. ¡°Should we go to the next floor?¡± Flowerpott asked, pointing up. ¡°I wasn¡¯t able to send my flies into every room. Starshine huffed. ¡°Not yet. This place feels empty. Spooky, but empty. I want to check that door. See what¡¯s outside, then report back. We¡¯ve been gone for over an hour, so they¡¯ll all be worried.¡± The party edged to the outside door, which looked pretty much identical to the entry portal, with the same dark bronze banding and solid oak frame. It lay directly across from the Portal door, with a solid ten meter pathway leading between the two doors. ¡°Formation Six, everyone,¡± Starshine whispered as she slowly opened the door. It swung outwards on silent hinges and the party gasped as warm sunlight poured inside. The space before them stretched up and out to an endless blue yonder. The sky overhead was piercingly bright, with white clouds that moved slowly across the horizon. The sun beat down on them, warm, but not overbearing. From where they stood it seemed that they were at the top of a grassy hill, or possibly the bottom of a mountain ¨C it was impossible to tell from this angle. Rows of trellises covered in vines stretched from a short distance away to the bottom of the hill, where they disappeared over a rise. A rolling landscape spread to their front and right, all covered in tall emerald conifers. Far overhead, a strange shape was moving through the air; a series of dots that formed the shape of a wedge. A cold breeze rushed in, wrapping around them with chill fingers before spilling into the bar. It brought with it the fresh scent of wet pine and¡­ salt? Balin sniffed. ¡°You all smell that?¡± ¡°Oh. my. Gawds.¡± Aishablue whispered. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± ¡°Reminds me a bit of the Endless Plain in Greentree.¡± Flowerpott remarked. ¡°But hillier. And with more green.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that!¡± Raysdotter asked, pointing to the left. Far off in the distance to the east, just past another hill, Balin could make out a deep expanse of dark stormy-blue that stretched out to the horizon in every direction. It was dotted here and there with white flecks. ¡°Is it a lake?¡± Balin asked. ¡°I think it¡¯s an ocean! Smell the salt?¡± Aishablue said. ¡°Oh, right, none of you lot have ever been above ground, have you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard of oceans.¡± Starshine whispered. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± ¡°Damn sight better than Greentree¡¯s awful lake, that¡¯s fer sure.¡± Balin grunted. ¡°Anyone see anything moving? Other than that weird shape overhead?¡± Starshine asked. There was a chorus of no¡¯s, which was interrupted by Aishablue exclaiming. ¡°I found something on the back of the door! It looks like a letter??¡± She hopped up to grab the folded slip of paper then passed it to Starshine. Starshine glanced it over, then unfolded it and began reading. Her face slowly paled, and her hands began to shake. ¡°By Barck¡¯s Fancy Braided Beard¡­¡± The party started and looked around nervously. ¡°Everything alright Star?¡± Raysdotter asked warily. ¡°Yes. No. I don¡¯t know,¡± Starshine muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s go back, I need to give this to Pete.¡± She spun on her heel and hurried through the dark pub space without a single care, her party following after her. ¡°What is it!?¡± Aishablue asked with naked curiousity. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be in formation??¡± ¡°Staaaaar!!!¡± Flowerpott whined. Starshine didn¡¯t answer, marching straight out the entry portal. When they emerged, she pulled out her commstone. ¡°It¡¯s safe everyone, you can come out.¡± Duke Barnse¡¯s voice emerged a moment later. ¡°What? What happened.¡± ¡°The other side is¡­ well, you really need to see. And Pete, I have a letter for you.¡± There was a moment of silence, then Pete¡¯s voice came through. ¡°A letter?¡± Starshine nodded, an impressive feat in plate armour. ¡°Yes, a letter. From Barck.¡± Book 4, Chapter 12: Dimensional Dungeon Cascadia I stared out over the hills with a knot in my heart. The feel of the wet air on my face. The sun beating on my brow. ¡®Modeled upon the intersection of the lived experiences of Peter Roughtuff.¡¯ Well, now we knew what that meant. ¡°It¡¯s home¡­¡± I whispered, then shook my head. No, home was on Erd now. This was Beautiful British Columbia, though nowhere I recognized. The surrounding hills and the mountains off to the east looked alot like the scenery around the Okanagan Valley, while the forests far to the North looked more like the coastal rainforests of Vancouver Island. Not to mention that there should¡¯ve been a wide winding river of blue cutting through the hills, not whatever tha Nether that bloody ocean was doing off to the West. I glanced at the trellises and shivered. I had a pretty good guess what the vines covering them were. They looked identical to the stock Canadian Tire trellises we¡¯d purchased when we¡¯d first started winemaking. If the vines on them were the same, they¡¯d be the finest Cabernet Sauvignon grapes money could buy. We¡¯d gotten them from one of our neighbours, who¡¯d been more than happy to come and spend hours explaining the ins and outs of the cutting and planting process. The original owner of our vineyard, or Chateau, as we winos were wont to callthem, had been growing Pinot Noir, and we¡¯d found the bloody things to be a bit too temperamental in the southern valley. Pinot Noir preferred a cool spring, and sometimes we¡¯d get roses blooming in February. My cousins in Ontario had always been so jealous. I¡¯d send them photos of us tanning on the deck while they were still under four feet of snow. ¡°Pete, you should step back.¡± Starshine said at my left elbow. ¡°We still don¡¯t know what¡¯s out there, and the letter only said it¡¯d be safe inside the tavern.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± I muttered, wiping some sweat from my eyes. ¡°We¡¯d see anything coming a kilometer away.¡± ¡°Unless it burrows,¡± Aishablue put in brightly. ¡°Or is invisible!¡± Flowerpott added. ¡°Or really fast,¡± Balin muttered. ¡°Like those damn Sand Fleas.¡± The party shivered. I used the momentary distraction to step outside and look back at the ¡®tavern¡¯. What met my eyes was the oddest thing I¡¯d ever seen. A sheer rock wall stretched out to left and right until it met the ocean and the mountains. Above our heads it went straight up until it intersected the ¡®sky¡¯ in a manner not unlike a wall meeting the ceiling. It actually hurt to look at it for too long as my brain tried to comprehend what it was looking at. ¡°So weird¡­¡± I muttered. ¡°Are all dungeons like this?¡± ¡°Hard to say,¡± Starshine said, ignoring the rest of her party as they fell to listing other examples of monsters that could reach and eat me without being spotted. ¡°Greentree you just walk deeper and deeper into the forest. The entirety of Deepcore¡¯s Whitehall is in a cave. I¡¯ve heard tell of dungeons in the Northern Kingdoms that look like this though. Mount Terror for one, or Plainscape in the central plains.¡± ¡°Mount Terror sounds fun¡­¡± I mused, looking left and right for any other doors or seams in the wall. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s awful. All dungeons are areas of high mana concentration, and Mount Terror has a high amount of Nether infused Mana. Everything from the monsters to the traps to the terrain is nightmarish. Valuable materials though, which gives it a steady stream of victims.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Not ¡®adventurers¡¯?¡± She shook her head. ¡°No, victims. The survival rate for Mount Terror is incredibly low. There¡¯s a reason we have lots of human adventurers in Kinshasa, even though they have to travel the old road. Deepcore and Greentree are gentle, as far as dungeons go.¡± The rest of the party had finished their tete-a-tete, and Balin walked up to plunk a heavy gauntleted hand on my shoulder. ¡°So, Pete. What¡¯s all this, then? Do ya recognize it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like anything I recognize,¡± Aishablue said brightly. ¡°And I¡¯ve been to the East, West, and South Coasts.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Then you would¡¯ve missed it. This is the NORTH West.¡± The Pacific Northwest to be precise. ¡°Northwest Dungeon,¡± Flowerpott said, trying the name on his tongue. ¡°No, it sounds stupid.¡± ¡°Stupider than Plainscape?¡± I scoffed. ¡°Aye,¡± Raysdotter snickered. ¡°And stupider isn¡¯t even a word.¡± Starshine nodded. ¡°They¡¯re right, you need to give it a name Pete. Didn¡¯t the Ability say the Dungeon was unnamed?¡± [Dimensional Dungeon: Unnamed]. It did indeed. I turned again to look at the twinkling blue of the ocean far off in the distance. I closed my eyes and let the sea breeze flow over me. The gentle sound of birdsong came unbidden from the fields. Columbia Dungeon? No, it didn¡¯t fit. I opened my eyes again and looked at the mountains to the East. The plume of a waterfall was just visible on the nearest face of one of the stone giants. I smiled. Yes, that would do nicely. All of the Pacific Northwest sat upon a continental shelf that bore the name of the waterfalls that dotted the mountains and forests. ¡°Cascadia,¡± I said, resolutely. *Ding*
Set Ability Name You are changing the name of your Ability to [Dimensional Dungeon Cascadia]. Do you accept? Yes / No
I mentally selected yes. *Ding*
Ability Name Changed! Ability name changed to [Dimensional Dungeon Cascadia].
¡°Cascadia?¡± Starshine asked, curiously. ¡°Cascadia,¡± Flowerpott tried it again. ¡°Damn sight better than ¡®Northwest¡¯.¡± ¡°What does it mean?¡± Aishablue asked. In response I struck into a lilting tune that¡¯d been in my heart since my beaver scout days. ¡°Land of the silver birch Home of the beaver Where still the mighty moose Wanders at will Blue lake and rocky shore I will return once more Boom did-y-ah-dah Boom did-y-ah-dah Boom did-y-ah-dah, boom Swift as a silver fish Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.Can-oe of birch bark Thy mighty waterways Carry me forth Blue lake and rocky shore I will return once more Boom did-y-ah-dah Boom did-y-ah-dah Boom did-y-ah-dah, boom My heart grows sick for thee Here in the low lands I will return to thee Hills of the north.¡± As I came down from the lilting tune by Michael Mitchell to one of Canada¡¯s most famous folk songs, I took a bow. There was some dutiful clapping. ¡°That was nice.¡± Starshine smiled. ¡°Did you write it?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t tell me anything about the name.¡± Flowerpott muttered. I rolled my eyes. ¡°It¡¯s named after all the cascading waterfalls.¡± ¡°What waterfalls?¡± Raysdotter compalined. ¡°What¡¯s a moose?¡± Aishablue asked. ¡ª The next short while was a flurry of activity as the outside came inside. The Liminal Inn, as I was calling it in my head, was absolutely monstrous, and even with Barck¡¯s letter the Dukes weren¡¯t taking any chances. They had as much of the army as they could muster clearing every room in the building. Even then, this place swallowed them up with little effort. Speaking of the letter, I pulled up a stool on the bar and gave it another read. ¡®Bartender, I see you''ve absconded with my cellar. I¡¯ve taken the liberty of taking it back, but poured a little extra oomph into your Ability to make up for it. I handcrafted the tavern, and have made it impregnable to the local flora and fauna, and left you some drinks in the cellar to fill the difference. Only the monsters you let in will be allowed to have access. Enjoy. P.S. I will only open a door next to you at your request once a week, and you can only have two extra doors at a time. Anything brought through an entry door cannot exit by any other door, so there¡¯s no shenanigans! Cheers, Barck¡¯ I read it a second and third time, trying to make sense of it. It seemed straightforward enough at first glance ¨C Barck had custom made this space for me, personally ¨C but there were some intricacies.
  1. This space was protected by a God to ensure all the people in it were safe, hence why we¡¯d moved the operation inside. I didn¡¯t trust Barck as far as I could throw him, but the Dukes were calling the shots.
  2. There were monsters out there, but they wouldn¡¯t be able to get into the tavern or out of the dungeon. Though I might want to let some in? What? Why?
  3. My infinite alcohol glitch was broken, again, and this time I hadn¡¯t even gotten to try it out. My elven wine!!!
  4. Barck would indeed open doors at my request; up to two. We wouldn¡¯t be able to use them to teleport people around Erd, or as a trade nexus, but my dungeon would still be able to be used as a social hub for up to three different locations on opposite ends of the world.
As I sat contemplating, The two Dukes arrived and sat next to me on either side, their presences looming under the circumstances. ¡°So, Pete. I think we have a problem.¡± Duke Schist sighed. ¡°Aye, that we do, Lord Roughtuff.¡± Duke Barnes echoed his sigh, her sculpted brows furrowed. ¡°May we have a drink, Bartender?¡± I nodded, hopping off my seat and walking around to one of the many swinging doors set into the excruciatingly long bar. There was a keg filled with some of our Liquid Gold set up for any thirsty explorers, and I poured them each a tankard. ¡°I almost wish we weren¡¯t sending you to the elves now.¡± Schist groaned. ¡°Yer practically a national treasure. Between the brewin¡¯ and now this? We¡¯re going to need to send you with more guards.¡± ¡°We could keep him here?¡± Barnes said thoughtfully. ¡°Lock him somewhere safe and throw away the key? My daughter may have some ideas of where.¡± I snorted at the thought and the two Dukes chuckled. Schist frowned. ¡°Nah, we want him to go, actually. Some cultural exchange would do our nations some good. Like Ambassador Stannard¡¯s been saying, the past octamillenium has been far too insular. It would do us all some good ta spread about some entrances to this place. The Elven capital is right on the border of North and South Erden, so it sees a lot of traffic from both directions. It¡¯s a perfect spot for one of his doors.¡± ¡°And obviously, one in Kinshasa.¡± Duke Barnes was quick to put in. ¡°Aye,¡± Schist agreed, adding ¡°and maybe he¡¯ll keep one in case he needs ta make a quick escape. He¡¯s needed more than a few of ¡®em in the past.¡± ¡°Do I get a say in this?¡± I complained. ¡°No. You¡¯re lucky we don¡¯t lock you up and throw away the key.¡± Duke Barnes growled. ¡°This Ability of yours is a Godsdamn threat. Even if you can¡¯t transport armies or goods, it¡¯s still too much for one dwarf to handle. Given enough time, any clan that controls this space could contest the local government of wherever they have a door.¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not a banned Ability, right?¡± I laughed dryly, but it sounded forced even to my ears. ¡°Who would have tha¡¯ foresight to ban something like this? We¡¯re gonna need you to make some oaths. And see about writing¡¯ some new laws just for you.¡± Schist drank deep from his tankard. ¡°You¡¯ve just made so much work for us. You owe me some more fishin¡¯ time when it¡¯s done.¡± ¡°Your saving grace is that letter.¡± Duke Barnes said, swirling her beer around in her tankard and taking an appreciative sip. ¡°This Ability is clearly a gift from Barck. Most likely for all the innovation you¡¯ve sparked in brewing. And no government particularly wants to go around banning gifts from the Gods.¡± ¡°Hah! Some might be fool enough!¡± Schist guffawed. ¡°Speaking of which, the Adventurer¡¯s Guildmaster is here somewhere.¡± Duke Barnes remarked, looking around. ¡°He snuck in with the army, but I recognized him. He¡¯s likely scouting the rooms right now. He¡¯ll be wanting a Guild kiosk in here, and may make threats about banning adventurers from coming.¡± ¡°Great.¡± I grumbled. ¡°You know, I was so excited about this, but it¡¯s turning into a pain.¡± ¡°What did you expect when ya used a Worldstone on a Godly Ability?¡± Schist shook his head. ¡°You got something that could shake the world.¡± ¡°I recommend you turn the Guildmaster down for now.¡± Duke Barnes continued. ¡°You¡¯ve already got a team exploring the dungeon, and you won¡¯t want the guild meddling in it until you know more. In fact, don¡¯t even meet him, see how long you can hold him off. Get Team Brightstar to stay away from the Guild until they¡¯re done as well, though that may be harder.¡± Duke Schist twiddles his moustache. ¡°Actually. I may have an idea for that. Let me look into it and I¡¯ll get back to you.¡± Annie plunked down at the bar next to the two of them, her face wan. ¡°Pour me a drink.¡± She demanded. I did so and passed it to her; she drained it in one desperate gulp. ¡°Another!¡± She gasped. ¡°You¡¯re gonna drain the whole keg.¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t care. What by all tha¡¯ bits of the Gods are we going to do with this, Pete? I was excited at first, but this is a nightmare!¡± Her hands on the bar were trembling. ¡°Move in?¡± I assayed. ¡°This place is even safer than the Goat. Near impregnable really, since I can always just move the doors. There¡¯s tons of space, and we can convert some of the bedrooms to a clan living space.¡± Annie groaned. ¡°We just finished getting fully settled in the new Goat. Are we really gonna move the whole clan again?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a bad plan.¡± Duke Barnes nodded her head, her braided beard bouncing on the bar. ¡°You¡¯ll want to take control of this space before you start inviting adventurers or patrons in.¡± ¡°Patrons?¡± Annie choked. Duke Schist looked pleased as punch about the idea. ¡°I¡¯ll see where you can put yer door, Pete. Since it looks like we won¡¯t need to worry about a Monster Stampede, it should be fine to put it somewhere in Redwall. All you need is a blank wall after all! Hope you won¡¯t be too upset if I put you on the opposite side of the city from Riverside? Hah!¡± Annie was practically steaming at this point. ¡°There¡¯s no way we could run a tavern this big! There¡¯s too much space!¡± ¡°Eh, it¡¯s fine. We can just set up partitions to block most of it off until the clan gets big enough to handle it.¡± I waved her concerns away nonchalantly. ¡°And how are we gonna do that!? Again, if we take on that many new hires, we won¡¯t be a clan anymore!¡± I waggled my eyebrows. ¡°Eh. I¡¯m sure you and Balin can figure out a way to increase the clan.¡± Duke Barnes choked on her beer and Duke Schist snorted. Annie¡¯s face went through the various spectrums of red before finally ending on ¡®Chartreuse¡¯, which I¡¯d always considered a terrible name for a colour. She made some vaguely threatening gestures. ¡°Pete! I¡¯m gonna shave every hair off yer body!!!¡± ¡°Yech, are you into that sorta thing? I should warn Balin.¡± ¡°ARRGHHH!!!!¡± Book 4, Chapter 13: Spring Forward, Fall Back I relaxed into the hot spring, closing my eyes and letting the scent of the mineral water wash over me. I heard some sloshing as the rest of the clan made their way into the water, and then the sound of a splash as Aqua pushed Annie into the deep end. Then there was some more splashing, some yelling, some burbling, and then blessed silence. I opened my eyes to see Aqua laying face down in the water as she floated past. ¡°Is she dead?¡± I asked. ¡°No. She can hold her breath for a surprisingly long time.¡± Annie muttered, coming to sit next to me. Balin sat behind her and began washing her back with a soapstone. They were both wearing nothing more than a beard for modesty. It¡¯d taken time, but I¡¯d gotten used to the dwarven predilection for group nude bathing. It wasn¡¯t common in Canada, but Caroline and I had gone to a few nude bathing places in Germany. This wasn¡¯t much different. Just a lot hairier. After a solid two minutes, Aqua finally twitched and emerged from the water with a gasp. She shot Annie a rude gesture and paddled off into the darkness; most of the underground hot spring was still unlit. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m convinced. Let¡¯s move.¡± Johnsson said brightly as he floated by on his back. ¡°Our tub at the Goat is nice, but this is amazing, and I can feel the minerals working into my skin. We could charge a fortune to come here. And it has a public and private entrance from the clan area, it¡¯s perfect!¡± ¡°Of course it¡¯s perfect, it¡¯s meant for us,¡± I said. ¡°This whole section is.¡± By whole section, I meant the basement of the Cascadian Goat. After the army had cleared the top ten floors, they¡¯d made their way down to the basement, to find a cavernous storage space half-filled with kegs, the hot spring caverns, and a door they couldn¡¯t open. When I¡¯d put my hand on the locked door, there¡¯d been a flare of magic, and then we¡¯d been able to enter. The space was a rough replica of our living quarters in Kinshasa, even my room and my secret nook. The biggest difference was that it was at least five times larger, stretching through the rock to encompass a space nearly as wide as the inn above. There was also a private kitchen with no food, a library with no books, a working bathroom with no toilet paper, and a hundred hallways with no lights. Which made it right on the ¡®no¡¯se for Barck. Nyuck! The army had eventually decamped, and I¡¯d been sent out to relocate the door to a temporary space in the Kinshasa Goat. We¡¯d sent for solstones, and the Diggers were currently setting them up throughout the space. Then we¡¯d retired to the hot springs, because hot damn we needed a break. Annie groused, ¡°Oh, you think it¡¯s meant for the clan, do you? What tipped you off? Was it the fact that only a recognized clan member can open the door? Was it the Goldstone name on the lintel? Was it the giant painting of me in the dining hall?¡± Her voice gained an edge at the end there. She¡¯d quite literally fainted dead away when we¡¯d finally gotten lighting set up in the unnecessarily tall dining hall to reveal a nearly ten meter tall painting of her at the head of the hall. She''d wanted to take it down; we¡¯d all disagreed. Besides, it was a nice painting! She was all dressed up in armor and carrying a keg over one shoulder and a Whistlemug in the other. And it was painted by a God! It was pretty much a holy relic! As I found out, Barck ¨C of all the Gods ¨C had a tendency to leave holy relics lying around, so it wasn¡¯t particularly valuable, but it was definitely special. My only problem with it was ¨C where in tha Nether was the fancy portrait of me!? This was my Ability! Ugh! All in all, it was a lovely housing space, even if it had its quirks. Barck had clearly put some effort into making sure we¡¯d be comfortable moving right in, and Annie was quickly coming around. Especially after she and I perused some of the kegs. There were at least five kegs of elven wine, and a collection of nearly every major brewery¡¯s Sacred Brew, plus some harder alcohols from the Human Kingdoms, like Gin and Whiskey. There were even several varieties of Mead! The most important though was the single small cask of the First Brew. The entire clan had come to stare at it, and we¡¯d sworn everyone to secrecy. A cask of the First Brew absolutely could start a war! I¡¯d just barely stopped everyone from drinking it then and there, and then I¡¯d had an epiphany! Sure, according to Barck¡¯s letter, these barrels weren¡¯t going to regenerate, but I could just find someone else with [Bottomless Barrel]! Why bother with having it myself when I could hire someone to do it for me! Haha! I was a genius! Especially for the elven wine and some of the smaller casks of mead, it would be necessary to ensure we didn¡¯t use them up. Richter came and sat down next to me with a massive splash. He sighed and stretched out into the water, wiggling his toes. ¡°Marvelous,¡± he sighed. He pulled a wand out of his beard and sketched some sigils into the air. Soft multicoloured lights flared out of the sigils and began to dance along the natural rock off the ceiling and walls. As it reflected off the water it leant an ethereal air to the entire place. The clan fell silent and just watched, letting the peaceful feeling of the underground take us. ¡°When do you leave?¡± Annie asked, eventually. ¡°A week,¡± I replied, matter-of-factly. ¡°None of this changes the timelines. Joseph wants ta strike while the iron¡¯s hot, and I think tha Dukes want me out of their beards fer a bit.¡± ¡°Bah, he¡¯ll not be gettin¡¯ rid of you that easily.¡± Balin chuckled. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve got this, it¡¯ll be like you never left home!¡± Annie pointed to another location on her back, and Balin got to work on it with his soapstone. She turned to me. ¡°I was going to say that we¡¯ll miss you, but if we move in here, I guess you¡¯ll be able to come visit whenever you want.¡± I nodded. ¡°How long do you think we¡¯ll need to transfer everything over and open officially?¡± ¡°At least a month. Especially if we¡¯re going to open up in Kinsahsa and the elf-lands. Where did you say you were headed, again?¡± ¡°Tree.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Johnsson snorted. ¡°What a daft name. Y¡¯know, at least we¡¯ve never named a city rock.¡± ¡°¡®Dere¡¯s always tha city of Diamond, and Granite Rock.¡± Richter corrected him. ¡°Fine,¡± Johnsson conceded the point. ¡°It¡¯s still not just rock.¡± He and Richter began to quietly bicker about the etymology of city names, while Balin and Annie cooed over each other and rubbed each other''s feet. I slipped deeper into the water and let it close over my head. Its warmth enveloped me in a cocoon, and I floated in the semi-darkness like a child in the womb. It was very relaxing. Until the womb thought made me realize that I¡¯d almost forgotten something. I still had to pay Pete Samson¡¯s mother¡¯s debt. Well, that was tomorrow Pete¡¯s problem. Today Pete¡¯s problem was remembering to come up for air every once in a while. ¨C Dwaaaarf, screw yesterday Pete. That guy sucked. I sighed as I sat in line. Again. I was a national treasure now, so surely I could get some preferential treatment in city hall? Nope. I had to wait in line like the rest of them. Even pulling Lordship had its limits. I¡¯d considered going directly to meet Pete¡¯s mother, but she was probably in the far East and I just didn¡¯t have a way to get there easily. So it was two hours or so until I finally met someone from genealogy. They were more than happy, after seeing proof of my identity, to give me access to my personal records. And there it was. The information I¡¯d never bothered, or simply not wanted, to see when I''d first arrived in Erd.
¡®Peter Roughtuff: Next of kin Father: Sam Barrelbow Wanted Current Address: Unknown Mother: Garnite Barrelbow Current Address: Fourth St. NW. Kikwit.¡¯
Kikwit, as it turned out, was indeed in the far East. Maybe I¡¯d visit one day, when this was all over. Name in hand I made my way to the bank. In Kinshasa, the central bank was located inside city hall, for many reasons. The first of course was that Crack only had the one central national bank. The locals considered a decentralized banking system a recipe for economic collapse. I¡­ chose to remain neutral on the topic, not having enough economic knowledge to agree or disagree. The Bank had the proper respect for Lord Roughtuff, Forefather of Brewing, and co-owner of Whistlemop¡¯s Emporium and The Thirsty Goat. I got to skip the entire line and was shuffled off to a VIP section for nobility by the flustered teller, Urist Mcbanker. Garnite Barrelbow was in debt to the tune of a hundred thousand gold, which was enough to buy a pretty nice house in Kinshasa¡¯s Greywall district. And that was the remaining balance after she and Sam had been paying into it for the past decade. It was a large amount, but not as extreme as I¡¯d feared. The interest would¡¯ve been killer, though. I grumbled and paid off the entire thing, to Mcbanker¡¯s surprised delight. Good deed for the day done, I was making my way back through City Hall when I ran into an unexpected face. ¡°Starshine!¡± I exclaimed, spotting the brightly armoured dwarfess muscling her way through the twisting lines of bored dwarves. ¡°Oy! Pete!¡± She waved back. ¡°Are you here ta hear the news?¡± My face scrunched up. ¡°What news? Please say it¡¯s not big news. I don¡¯t really need more big news right now.¡± ¡°Well, howsabout you come with me, and you can find out!¡± I couldn¡¯t see her face through her visor, but I was pretty sure she was grinning from ear to ear. I¡¯d set aside more time than I needed for waiting in line, so I had some to spare. I followed eagerly, peppering her with questions she happily deflected. She brought me straight to Duke Schist¡¯s office and ushered me inside. The Duke was inside with Mcgofer, and he gave a surprised ¡°Aha!¡± as I walked through the door. ¡°Pete! You came! Did you hear?¡± ¡°Uh. No. Starshine¡¯s been teasing me. What is it?¡± ¡°Is she with you? Ah there you are, come in, come in!¡± Schist called as Starshine entered, pointing to two chairs. ¡°And grab a seat. I was just about to send for you Pete, so this is good timing.¡± We sat, and the Duke conferred with Mcgofer, who began searching the paperwork on the table. ¡°So, Pete, after our little adventure yesterday, we approached Ambassador Stannard. Our main concern was that Awemedinand wouldn¡¯t want you as ¡®Beer Ambassador¡¯ anymore. However, we received full approval from their King the other day! In fact, he¡¯s now excited to meet you! They¡¯d love to be able to explore your dungeon and see what new plants are inside. So their only requirement to grant you full entry without even the requirement of a [Statustician] is to allow one of their adventuring companies inside.¡± I considered it. It wasn¡¯t a bad deal, and it went a long way towards our plan of mutual cultural exchange. ¡°As long as it¡¯s just a Gold ranked team. I don''t really want anybody more powerful waltzing in. Not until we¡¯ve got a bigger clan and more defences set up.¡± Schist grunted. ¡°Oh, if an Adamantine ranked team wanted to, there¡¯s not much we could do to stop them other than send the army in. But teams like that don¡¯t do things like that. They have better things to do, and besides, they have certain limitations imposed on them as state adventurers.¡± ¡°Do we know the team yet? Is that why Starshine¡¯s here?¡± I asked, shooting a curious look in her direction. ¡°We do! It¡¯s team Raptor¡¯s Respite from Tree.¡± Schist announced with a bit of flair. Starshine clenched her fist and hooted with excitement. Mcgofer looked smug. I just looked blank. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Ah, of course you wouldn¡¯t know,¡± Schist sighed. ¡°They¡¯re one of the up-and-coming Gold teams. Much like Team Brightstar. They¡¯re quite close ta Mithril rank, actually.¡± I gave Schist a sardonic look. ¡°Someone¡¯s gettin¡¯ a bit full of himself.¡± ¡°Pah! Says the Forefather of Brewing.¡± ¡°They¡¯re famous for something they call ¡®Speed Runs¡¯, where they try to get to a dungeon boss and then defeat them as quickly as possible!¡± Starshine gushed. ¡°And they¡¯re led by the second prince of Awemedinand!¡± I nodded, understanding. ¡°And you¡¯ll get to meet ¡®em, since you¡¯ll be explorin¡¯ Cascadia.¡± ¡°No, because we¡¯re comin¡¯ with!¡± Starshine cheered. ¡°Balin gave tha go ahead, since he¡¯ll still get to schmooze with his lady in your fancy dungeon bar! We¡¯re part of your guard contingent!¡± ¡°And you leave in a week!¡± Schist grinned, putting his fist out for a fist-bump. ¡°So, are you ready to make it official? Mr. Ambassador?¡± I thrust my fist out. ¡°Aye!¡± *Bing!*
Quest Complete: The Ambassador Part 1/3! Congratulations Mr. Ambassador! Gained 1 Charisma! Your new Charisma is 22.5!
*Bing!*
New Quest: The Ambassador Part 2/3! You¡¯re off to meet the King! Unless something unfortunate happens! Meet the King of Awemedinad: 0/1 Rewards: [Karmic Reversal] Do you accept? Yes / No
I hit yes. Onwards, to Awemedinand! Book 4, Chapter 14: Illusions of Grandeur And then it was the big day. Sure, there were lots of last minute things to do, but they bled into each other so thoroughly I didn¡¯t even have time to diary them. Mostly it was studying. A lot of studying. Thankfully I had excellent teachers between Duchess Barnes and Richter. Our contingent found itself clustered together over the teleportation square in Blackwall. It was a big space just north of the gate, with easy access to Redwall. It was pretty close to where we¡¯d been escorted for my Ability testing, actually. It was surrounded by gates, walls, and a myriad of other defenses, along with the steely eyed garrison. Nobody was attacking through that teleporter without getting blasted by a hundred mages. The circle itself was a large stone affair made of etched mithril, gems, and other magical materials. It was a wonder to behold under my [Lesser Crafter¡¯s Eye]. I could even make out the faint aura of the Worldstone, buried somewhere deep inside. There wasn¡¯t much traffic today. Just us and a pair of nobles I didn¡¯t recognize and a gnomish merchant with an extremely fancy wagon. He was from one of the few registered corporations that had permission to use the exclusive teleportation network. I¡¯d be jealous, but now we had permission too! Haha! We did have an audience of various clan delegations wishing their family members well, as well as Duke Schist and his contingent. We weren¡¯t scheduled to be away for too long as the dwarf lived, just a couple years, and they could always visit through Cascadia. Buuuut, Cascadia wasn¡¯t open to the public yet, and who knew ¨C maybe the Teleportation would kill us all. Knock on wood. Balin was getting a tearful once-over by Annie, of course. Meanwhile, Richter was pouring over the teleportation circle while Johnsson and Aqua chatted with team Brightstar. The Diggers stood to the side, a bit petrified about being in Blackwall in the first place. ¡°Don¡¯t you look pleased, old man.¡± A bright voice came from behind and below and I looked down to see the cute-as-a-button pop-star Raspberrysyrup standing at rest. Her hands were in her pockets and she looked bored. She was wearing some filly pink chiffon thing that I hesitated to call a dress. Her manager, Amethyst, stood at her elbow looking harried. ¡°What middle-aged brewer doesn¡¯t get giddy at tha thought of vacationin¡¯ on tha company dime?¡± I answered smartly. ¡°It¡¯s not your company. It¡¯s our taxes,¡± she groused. ¡°Our incredibly heavy taxes. Do you have any idea how much I paid this year? I wanted to go to city hall with an axe.¡± I chuckled. ¡°And axe some cutting questions? Annie woulda been right with ya there.¡± She snorted. ¡°What-ev-er, just see this as getting your money¡¯s worth. It¡¯s not free.¡± I tutted. ¡°No, I¡¯m getting yer money''s worth. My taxes went into tha ¡®Cute little orphans of Kinshasa¡¯ fund.¡± Berry rolled her eyes. There was a peal of laughter as Ambassador Stannard walked up to join us. He was dressed in a set of clothes I¡¯d never seen before ¨C a loose short-sleeved tunic with a deep v-neck, and a beautifully patterned gilded sarong. He was showing a lot of his bright green skin. And pecs. I stared at him. Berry stared. Wipe that drool girl. Joseph came and patted me on the shoulder and reached down to tossle Berry¡¯s hair. She was short for a gnomess and he was nearly human height, which made the height disparity almost comical. ¡°I see you two are looking forward to our arrival in Tree.¡± ¡°As long as I don¡¯t have to wear whatever that is.¡± I pointed at his outfit, which definitely matched his Kiwi accent. I was in my solday-best suit armour, with bronze pauldrons and a blue tunic. It really made my reddish-brown beard pop! ¡°You don¡¯t. It¡¯s Awemedinand formal wear, and between you and me, dwarves just don¡¯t look as good in a sarong.¡± He whispered the last, leaning in conspiratorially. ¡°Though you would probably look excellent in it, my dear.¡± He winked the last at Berry and she laughed the twinkling laugh of a young woman in love. I still wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about their relationship. As a fellow Earther, I felt a sense of responsibility for this young woman from the bronx. She was even more obsessed with her singing and magic than I was with beer, and she was giddy with newfound fame to boot. And now she was going to another country, far from her fans and protections. For a boy! And Joseph didn¡¯t even need to be stringing her along for the situation to be dangerous. Hooking her wagon to any noble in a monarchy could be hazardous to her health. This wasn¡¯t even mentioning that Joseph possibly already knew she was from another world and was taking advantage of her. In fact, I considered it likely!The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. There was a throat clearing sound from beside me. Starshine Morris stood at attention, her armour even more polished than usual. ¡°Pete, we¡¯re ready to go. Balin¡¯s done final checks on the goat-pulled wagons.¡± I gave Starshine a thumbs-up. ¡°Good. Starshine, this is Ambassador Joseph. Ambassador, this is Juggernaut Starshine, head of my personal guard and leader of the adventuring team Brighstar.¡± Joseph bowed at the waist then reached out to share fist-bumps. ¡°Pleased to meet you, Juggernaut.¡± Starshine smiled brightly, then turned back to me. ¡°Is the squad accompanying us staying in Cascadia, or rooming in Tree?¡± I gave Joseph a questioning look and he returned a tight smile. ¡°Obviously we would prefer any armed presence within the city be kept to a small squad. Ten at most. Crack already has a good number of guards at the embassy, so you shouldn¡¯t need too many more.¡± I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve got eight. Enough for day-to-day stuff. I only plan on bringing team Brightstar to special occasions and meetings. They¡¯ll be busy exploring the dungeon.¡± Joseph nodded, and he and Berry wandered off to chat in private. Then there was the final rush of activity that came before every trip. Like ensuring our stocks of beer were properly secured, and nothing was sitting on the edge of the teleportation circle. I shot one last surreptitious glance at our final addition to the Tree Party. A giant. Kirk stood in his tight tunic and leather pants, looking around with interest. He wandered over to the gnomish merchant and started up a friendly and animated conversation. Of course, Kirk did everything animated. He also clearly had something on his mind. He¡¯d been a bit¡­ distant¡­ at the Goat recently, and was spending a lot of time in the human district of Kinshasa. I had to wonder what was going on. [Flash of Insight] hadn¡¯t clued me in, so it probably wasn¡¯t something I just wasn¡¯t seeing, like unrequited love for Aqua or something. Duke Schist came over to give me one last farewell. We shared some pleasantries and last minute instructions. Then he said nonchalantly, ¡°Yer, uh, eyes in good health?¡± ¡°I think so, why?¡± I asked, curious. ¡°Just askin¡¯.¡± He murmured, smiling. A wizened old Greybeard caught everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°All right young''uns. I¡¯m gonna activate the circle now. All clan members, if you aren¡¯t headed to Tree, remove yerself from the circle!¡± There were some last tearful farewells, and the various clan members emptied out. The Greybeard raised his wand. ¡°Travellers, please keep your arms, legs, beards, and other extremities inside the white lines. I wish you luck! For Crack and Kinshasa!¡± ¡°For Crack and Annie!¡± Team Brightstar and I called as the rest of the assembled dwarves repeated the usual refrain. At the edge of the circle I could see Annie bury her face in her hands. Then there was a flash of Mana in my [Crafter¡¯s Eye]. And then there was light. ¡ª Too much light. ¡°AGH! IT BURNS!!!¡± Raydotter screamed. ¡°WHYYYY!?¡± I, having spent most of my life in the sun, was completely nonplussed. Yep, me and my seared corneas. We were noooooon-plussed. Just ignore the tears streaming down my face. Those¡¯re just tears of joy at seeing the sun again after so long. I closed my eyes but it didn¡¯t help. I could always activate [Flesh to Stone]... the senseless blackness of the Ability when it was activated might be preferable. I glanced through lidded eyes at Berry. She was doing fine. Because Joseph had covered her eyes with his hands and was holding them open just enough for light to filter through. She had a delirious smile plastered on her face. Same with Balin, who had a pair of smoked goggles that I¡¯d never seen before covering his eyes. He was grinning like a loon. ¡°Team! Formation One! Sound of my voice! Pete!¡± Starshine called, doing her best to keep calm. ¡°Here!¡± I called. Team Brighstar quickly surrounded me, thrusting their weapons out blindly, except for Balin who was standing nonchalantly at the ready. And Aishablue, who seemed unaffected. ¡°Aisha?¡± Starshine asked. ¡°I can see!¡± Aishablue laughed. ¡°It is fine. I see some [Healers] in the welcoming party, so they were probably expecting this. And I see that Balin was cheating.¡± ¡°Schist warned me.¡± Balin chuckled. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a right of passage for all underground dwellers.¡± Joseph said, not a hint of laughter in his voice. ¡°It¡¯s part of the experience. Of course, there are always complaints, but you know, as plants we elves are in a constant state of starvation down below. This much seems a fair turnabout. Please stand still and the [Healers] will see to you shortly.¡± Eh, fine. I wouldn¡¯t begrudge him his fun. And besides, I had [Regenerate] repairing my roasted retinas as we spoke. When I could finally see again¡­ The city¡¯s teleportation square was nestled on top of a tree easily taller than any redwood I¡¯d ever seen. I had to immediately tamp down terrified vertigo, and I could just barely hear Starshine retch into her armour. It did afford us a good view though. Trees and plants of every shape and size stood in radiating circles. Like ripples in a pond. And at the center of the ¡®lake¡¯? There was an honest to goodness Worldtree in the middle of the city. It was an emerald giant that towered taller than a mountain, its branches stretching off to the horizon. It looked like an ash, though monochromatic ¨C even its bark was a deep shade of green. The only part of the tree that didn¡¯t have the sheen and luster of jade was up in the branches. Eight gargantuan boughs erupted from the tree¡¯s crown, but one of them was a dark grey colour. It looked¡­ dead? Dying? I rubbed my eyes and looked at the tree again. Yep. Still there. Joseph laughed again. ¡°Pretty, isn¡¯t it? I thought so too the first time I saw it. But it is an illusion. The actual tree is much, much smaller.¡± ¡°That whole thing is an illusion?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Joseph said. He¡¯d left Berry with a [Healer] and come over, no doubt to see my gasted flabbers. ¡°No plant could actually be that big and support itself! Magic can create wonders, but physics does still exist, Ambassador.¡± It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. I still wasn¡¯t used to the title. He poked me in the pauldron. ¡°That would be you, Mr. Ambassador. Welcome to Tree!¡± He swept his hands to either side, taking in the landscape. The wind rose to sweep his red hair through the wind. Nice effect. Shame it was ruined by the scent of vomit wafting from poor Starshine. Book 4, Chapter 15: Elves are Officially Insane While I wanted to immediately run to THE winery, I did technically have a job to do. As I was immediately reminded when a stately human-shaped elfess stepped forward. She had the same lime green skin and red hair as the rest of the elves I¡¯d seen, and she was dressed in brightly shining chainmail and plate pauldrons with white trees painted on them. Her hair was done up in a red perm with emerald hairpin accents. She had a spear strapped over her right shoulder, and an epee at her waist. ¡°Greetings, Ambassador Roughtuff,¡± she said, bowing. ¡°I¡¯m Lady Laurelstone. Welcome to Awemedinand! I¡¯ve been posted by His Majesty to assist you in getting settled.¡± She had the same kiwi accent as Joseph. A whole country of surfer dude and dudette elves was going to be¡­ interesting. ¡°Thank you Lady Laurelstone.¡± I bowed back, no fist-bumps here! She smiled. ¡°No trouble on the teleportation here? Was it your first time?¡± ¡°Nah, no trouble. And aye, it was me first time. I appreciate tha [Healers].¡± I waved at the grumble of crying, groaning dwarves and hard-working white-saronged medics. ¡°Of course! We¡¯re quite used to the effect that seeing the sun for the first time can have on our dwarven cuzzies. Though most usually arrive with smoked lenses, and take them off for the healers.¡± Her voice grew pensive. ¡°Did¡­ nobody warn you?¡± ¡°They must¡¯ve forgotten to mention it.¡± My return smile was edged. Schist. Someone would¡¯ve warned Schist. I¡¯d have to duke it out with the old fisherdwarf when we returned. She bowed again, ¡°I do apologize. I hope it won¡¯t colour your view of our beautiful country.¡± I waved her concerns off. ¡°No, it¡¯s quite alright. Ambassador Stannard was just explaining it all to me.¡± She glanced under her long red lashes at Stannard, who smiled innocently back at her. ¡°I¡­ see. Well, if the Ambassador has things well in hand, I can see about arranging our mounts. Does that suit you?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± With an agreeable head-nod she turned and headed off. ¡°She seems nice. But her name¡­ is it gnomish?¡± I mumbled sotto-voce to Joseph. ¡°Yes. She was born in Kinshasa, actually. Though she grew based on a human adventurer.¡± Joseph rolled his shoulders and sighed, ¡°Ah, I missed the feeling of the sun on my skin.¡± ¡°Ah, is that why the ¨C everything.¡± I gestured at his attire. ¡°Yes. It helps with photosynthesis.¡± Indeed, most of the elves around were in varying states of undress. It looked pretty good on the human and beastfolk elves, but on the various red-bearded dwarf-shaped elves it made for a serious case of cultural whiplash. ¡°Hrm. Well, Ambassador, what¡¯s first on the agenda?¡± I¡¯d pay Joseph back for the blinding thing later; work came first. I did intend to take my job as Brew Ambassador seriously. ¡°Well, Ambassador, I think we should take a look at the city first.¡± He replied, and gestured around us. ¡°How much do you know about Tree?¡± I held my breath to keep from screaming and toed over to the edge of the platform to peer around the city below us. While the teleportation platform was on one of the taller redwoods in the area, it wasn¡¯t the tallest tree; there were a few giants arrayed around the glowing trunk of the ethereal world tree. Several of which had a good unobstructed view of the platform, and were bristling with guards and siege weaponry. The surroundings were¡­ odd to say the least. My short time spent studying hadn¡¯t quite prepared me for what I was seeing. Part of that was my own prejudices; I¡¯d been hoping for something along the lines of Lothlorien ¨C a grand forest with buildings in the trees. Something like the elven embassies, but at scale. Instead, it was a hodgepodge of different trees and plants. On one hand, there were a few copses of redwoods littered about, with huts and buildings running around and through them. Those looked exactly like what I¡¯d imagined. But then off to the right there was a field of enormous yellow pumpkins with doors and windows. And then a field of giant mushrooms with huts on top. Different building styles? The pumpkins were the elven version of brutalist architecture while the tree houses were more like Bauhaus? Get it? Bough-house/Bauhaus! That pun had some style! Oho, I was building up a serious pun streak here! Aaaa-nyways, what roads I could see were¡­ different. Dwarven city planning favoured straight lines and numbered streets. Tree¡¯s streets meandered, and favoured systems of rings. It looked like a nightmare to navigate, but then again I was from BC, and our relationship with roundabouts was fraught at best. My high Perception let me see quite a bit of detail at this height, right down to the faces on the people below. The population was primarily elvish, of course, but there were a surprising number of humans and beastfolk walking around. And a lot more black and brown skinned southerners than I was used to seeing, even some black skinned humans! The beastfolk looked strange. Like a cross between an elk and a jaguar. They had the muzzle and nose of a cat, with the shaggy cheeks, horns, and brow of a deer. Their body was furred, with spots. They were roughly the same height and build as the average elf, lithe and aquiline, though their horns lent them some extra height and menace. And unlike underground, they were everywhere. I put the ratio at roughly 70% elf, 15% beastfolk, 10% human, and 5% gnome/dwarf mix. And then there was the elephant in the room. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I pointed at the illusory tree. ¡°I did nae get to spend too much time readin¡¯ about tha city before I arrived, but I did do my homework. The city is built into districts, much like Kinshasa. There¡¯s The Trunk, The Boughs, The Roots, The Canopy, and The Outskirts. I thought it was just a naming sense, since the city is called Tree. But by Archis¡¯s Apples, how did somethin¡¯ like that not get mentioned in my books!?¡± Joseph smiled. ¡°Good question! Any written account or memory of the [Mother Tree] fades over time, and when you leave its sight you slowly forget it exists. It¡¯s a very powerful Ability.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an Ability!?¡± I gawped. ¡°That¡¯s insane!¡± ¡°Hah! Says the dwarf with the personal dungeon! But yes, it''s a highly evolved Ability. You¡¯ll learn more later, I suspect. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll surprise you that it''s an Ability that¡¯s been enhanced by a Worldstone.¡± I nodded, staring at the tree in question, still not believing my eyes. Seriously, it was hard to understate how huge the tree was. I briefly wondered if my [Unbending] Ability would prevent the tree from being wiped from my memory. ¡°Whose ability?¡± I asked. ¡°And what does it do!?¡± ¡°Ah, now that is a state secret.¡± Joseph said. ¡°Berry, my dear! All better?¡± Berry came and joined us, rubbing her eyes and squinting at the tree. ¡°Jo! That tree¡¯s gigantic!¡± I chuckled, barely managing to avoid saying That¡¯s What She Said. Berry must¡¯ve sensed it, as she shot me a glare. ¡°It is. I was just talking to Pete about it,¡± Joseph said, brightly. ¡°Would you like to see it up close?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± We both exclaimed. ¡°Can you make out the buildings at the base of the [Mother Tree]?¡± He pointed down and into the distance. I raised my hand to block the glare and stared. I could just make out a series of white blobs encircling the bottom of the trunk. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s Trunk? Are those tha government buildings?¡± ¡°Nothing so egalitarian I¡¯m afraid. That¡¯s the palace, and where we headed first. We need to check Pete in with the guard, ay.¡± ¡°The palace? It¡¯s huge!¡± Berry exclaimed. ¡°It has to be. The King of Awemedinand is a title that changes hands quite often, so the extended royal family is quite large. The palace contains nearly a dozen one-time-or-otha living kings and their families.¡± ¡°I noticed that. Tha books I read mentioned a dozen kings over the past century. I would¡®ve thought elves lived longer than that¡­¡± I raised a questioning eyebrow. ¡°Yes, well, the way we choose our King is rather unique. And opaque to anyone not part of the elvish royal family. You¡¯ll doubtless learn more during your stay here. Now, our ride is here, so if you would¡­¡± He drew our attention back to the teleportation circle, where Lady Laurelstone was instructing team Brightstar on how to load luggage onto our mounts. And what mounts! Snapping their beaks and looking bored while everyone fussed over their saddlebags were a couple dozen feathered dragons! ¡°Ach are those tha¡¯ famed Kododos?¡± I asked, moving over to fawn over them. They really were cute; the body of a scaled up komodo dragon with a feathered ruff, and the hooked beak of a bird with a dopey look that reminded me of a confused chicken. Their four limbs were strong and muscular, and tipped with claws for climbing. As I watched, one of them reared back on its hind legs and flapped its arms, revealing some rudimentary gliding feathers affixed to leathery flaps ¨C like a flying squirrel. ¡°Indeed. Not as fast as horses or unigoats, and their claws are terrible on stone, but there¡¯s no better mount for the forests of Awemedinand.¡± Joseph replied cheerfully. After a few short minutes we were all set up and ready to go. Though there was some grumbling. ¡°Give me a unigoat any day. Too much beak fer me,¡± Balin grumbled. His mount hissed as it was jostled by another Kododo and the two began snapping at each other, their prehensile snake-like necks coiling and undulating as they squawked and spat. ¡°Bah,¡± Starshine echoed. Her heavy plate had been too much for the lizard to carry, and she¡¯d been forced to shuck it for the first time that I¡¯d ever seen. She was still wearing her gambeson and some leathers, and she had her all-important armoured socks, but she looked uncomfortable. ¡°Why are we bein¡¯ strapped in, eh? I know how to ride a mount.¡± Raysdotter commented as her assisting elf cinched a seatbelt around her waist. ¡°It¡¯s for your own protection, [Priest]. We don¡¯t want any first-timers falling off during the glide down.¡± Lady Laurelstone steered her Kododo to the front. ¡°Is everyone saddled up? Follow me please! You¡¯re about to experience one of the wonders of Tree!¡± So we followed. But not in the direction of the lift. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Balin began, as his Kododo came alongside ours. ¡°She said glides. Where¡¯re we goin¡¯?¡± ¡°Where do you think?¡± Joseph laughed. I stared nervously as we approached the edge of the platform. I¡¯d just been thinking that a glide would be interesting, but my inner dwarf was screaming. ¡°Can¡¯t we just take the elevator?¡± Given that the magic circle was primarily a way of moving goods, there was an impressively large magic elevator on one side of the platform. But we were headed in the opposite direction. ¡°It only runs on the hour. And besides, where''s the experience in an elevator? Surely you¡¯ve seen greater engineering marvels in Crack. A glide from one of the tallest trees in Awemedinand is something everyone should do once!¡± ¡°What about them?¡± I pointed to several of the [Healers] who were jogging alongside us. They didn¡¯t have mounts. ¡°They don¡¯t want to wait for the elevator either. They have their personal belays.¡± He pointed at a wire harness and spool attached to a harness on a few of the [Healers]. ¡°And they¡¯re done with work for the day.¡± I checked my seat belt. ¡°Is it safe?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the Kododo¡¯s are quite well trained. Surely the brave dwarves of Crack aren¡¯t afraid of a little glide? You can always just close your eyes.¡± ¡°Hah! The only thing we fear is shavin¡¯ our beard!¡± Balin said, though his voice shook. Lady Laurelstone shouted something in elvish, which my translation Ability read as ¡®Hyah!¡¯ and the Kododos began to pick up speed. As the railing approached faster and faster and the wind began to whip through my hair I asked one last question. I had to shout to be heard over the whistling wind. ¡°BUT, SOME OF THE [HEALERS] DON¡¯T HAVE HARNESSES!¡± Then our Kododos leapt into the air and spread their arms to soar out into empty space. I shouted a ¡°Yahahoooey!¡± as the wind caught my Kododo¡¯s wings and we arced out over the city. The city stretched out beneath us and the terrifying feeling of vertigo was quickly replaced with simple middle-schooler glee at the feeling of flight. I held my arms out and screamed, ¡°I¡¯m FLYING, JACK!¡± The rest of the little grumble of dwarves variously shut their eyes, hollered, or fainted dead away to hang from their seatbelts. And fully half of the [Healers] plunged laughing and cheering to crater into the ground much too far below. Book 4, Chapter 16: Trunk Castle One of many buffs provided by the [Mother Tree] was that plants grew to maturity under its leaves within a day. That helped with growing buildings, food production, and letting elves revive from the dead in a day. There were limits of course. The soil couldn¡¯t support constant growth, so it wasn¡¯t a cheat for infinite growth, and it had to be done purposefully. But it allowed for some neat tricks when it came to city defense and planning. Joseph kindly explained this to his horrified dwarven guests after we regained our faculties upon landing. The trip down was, taken on its own, quite lovely. The bracing feeling of the wind in my beard, and the gorgeous view as our Kododos glided between the trees. It was pure joy. Like skydiving on a velociraptor. A beautiful introduction to the capital of the elven country of Awemedinand. The only bald spot had been watching a bunch of day-jobbers launch themselves laughing to shatter on the ground. Not exactly copacetic for a bunch of acrophobes. ¡°Yer all mad,¡± Balin swore. ¡°I finally understand why everyone thinks yer out of yer elfin¡¯ minds.¡± He was dry heaving, white knuckles wrapped around his reins. To their credit, none of Team Brightstar had passed out, though several of our army companions had. Their forms hung limply from their mounts. ¡°Wasn¡¯t bad at all.¡± Raysdotter said, though her knees were shaking. Kirk was the only one among us who looked completely at ease. Hell, he looked picturesque, straddling his larger Kododo and looking about with the air of a man fully at ease. ¡°I¡¯d say they¡¯re Barking mad, myself,¡± I muttered. ¡°Since, y¡¯know, they¡¯re plants.¡± My own knuckles were a bit white too. ¡°And they come back in a day?¡± Starshine asked, fascinated. ¡°It usually takes over a year.¡± ¡°Yes, unless lit on fire. As long as their seeds are able to properly spread from their corpse, and the soil is decent, a dead elf will revive within a year, most memories and their general form intact. There¡¯s a little memory and physical drift, but not that much for each death. And the [Mother Tree] brings them back within a day, so they¡¯ll be able to go to work tomorrow. It makes for a society of thrill seekers. It¡¯s probably for the best; when you live for millenia, you tend to look for new things to try.¡± I stared back at the tree we¡¯d jumped from. It was a pretty good distance away, and I wasn¡¯t able to make out the¡­ bodies. ¡°They get their first form by watching other people, right? What about elves born in the wild?¡± Joseph¡¯s mouth pursed. ¡°We¡­ don¡¯t talk about wild elves.¡± ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡± Lady Laurelstone pulled back alongside us on her Kododo, her face bright. ¡°Good job everyone! The first flight can always be a little scary, but I can always trust my dwarf cuzzies to handle anything!¡± The grumble gave collective groaning gestures of affirmation. She smiled and pulled ahead of our little Kododo train to lead the way again. ¡°What is she?¡± I whispered to Joseph. ¡°Captain Laurelstone is one of our strongest [Kododo Knights]. They¡¯re much like your Highwatch, patrolling the wilds around Tree. She was pulled from assignment and attached to your embassy to serve as your guide around the city. Not the most diplomatic, but she is brave, honest, and a terror in the saddle. She¡¯s also quite used to dwarves, having been born in Crack.¡± ¡°Why¡¯s someone like that showing me around tha city? That seems a waste.¡± ¡°It was part of Crack¡¯s requirements before they¡¯d allow a national treasure like a walking dungeon come to Tree.¡± Joseph winked. ¡°Ah.¡± We spent the hour or so threading our way through traffic. Our glide had taken us most of the way across the city, which definitely made the entire exercise make a lot more sense. Why waste time traveling the labyrinthine circular streets of Tree when we could fly over most of it? We were currently in the Boughs, and it reminded me a lot of Redwall, with the sheer commercialism on display. Unlike Redwall, with its large main streets and street-side vendors, the Boughs were multiple concentric rings of shops, each their own eclectic building style. There were evergreens with tiny alcoves cut into their bases filled to the brim with books, aspens with treehouses in their crowns and the scent of tea wafting from them, and an entire grove of willows serving as a glass shop. ¡°Oooh, I need to get some souvenirs for Whistlemop,¡± I muttered as we passed. There was some impressive glasswork on display, and Raydotter had to bind and gag Flowerpott to keep the obsessive glass golemancer from running off into the store. ¡°Willowtree Glassworks does indeed have some incredible [Glassblowers] on staff, but they pale in comparison to the artisans employed by our Greybough consortium.¡± He pointed overhead at the grey, dying bough of [Mother Tree]. ¡°Ah, the name makes sense now.¡± I nodded, looking up. ¡°Is that branch really dying? Why bother with something like that if it¡¯s all an illusion?¡± Joseph sighed with deep melancholy. ¡°Yeah nah, it¡¯s not really dying, but there is a reason for it. You¡¯ll learn it later. Our Consortium is indeed named after it; our headquarters is located directly at Trunk below it.¡± ¡°Reason?¡± I needled. ¡°All in good time, Mr. Ambassador.¡± ¡°Is there a good place to have dinner, Jo? I want to talk to you about my meeting with Tree¡¯s Archis Academy, and um, other stuff.¡± Berry asked, butting into our conversation for the umpeenth time that trip. Seriously child! I¡¯d thought after Sammy left the house I¡¯d finally be free of girls pining after boys!!! Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Joseph gave her a winning smile. ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a lovely place in Trunk that serves a scrumptious truffle flambe. I have reservations for us, actually.¡± Berry gave him doe eyes. I gave him rolled eyes, which Berry thankfully didn¡¯t see. I was going to have to have a talk with Joseph and make sure he wasn¡¯t leading her on though. I¡¯d learned from Schist that he was over 700 years old, and Berry was at most, what, 25? That was an age gap bigger than Twilight. And that book was terrible. Our journey through the Boughs to Trunk continued as such. Joseph and I talked politics. Berry and Joseph talked culture and sweet nothings. And Balin and Starshine jumped on anyone that got within a meter of me. All in all, a lovely trip. The sights, sounds, and sheer majesty of doing it all under [Mother Tree] really made it all worth it. But then it was time for the hard part, as we arrived at Trunk. ¡°Welcome, Lord Roughtuff, to the Palace of Awemedinand!¡± Lady Laurelstone proclaimed, as she stood in her stirrups and gestured grandly at the grand structure we stood before. The palace was made of white stone, and stretched off to circle the gargantuan trunk of [Mother Tree]. It was nearly ten stories tall at the highest point, with wide witch¡¯s caps, buttresses, crenelations, and lots of other castle words. It reminded me of the Taj Mahal, but fatter. ¡°Barck¡¯s Luck Brother,¡± Balin whispered. ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered. ¡°You¡¯re comin¡¯ with.¡± ¡°What!?¡± He choked. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to bring too many people in, Lord Roughtuff,¡± Laurelstone said apologetically, ¡°My people can escort your luggage to the embassy. Or would you prefer your guards to wait here?¡± ¡°Eh, my luggage is mostly there,¡± I pointed at Kirk, who waved back cheerily. ¡°And other than Team Brightstar the rest of you lot can escort the luggage. See about getting it all unpacked, Kirk.¡± Kirk snapped a snappy salute. ¡°Aye, aye, captain!¡± Joseph and Berry bent heads and whispered something before Berry gave him a kiss on the cheek and went over to Amethyst and the rest of her posse. Joseph began climbing the steps to the white stone edifice. ¡°Well, let¡¯s not tarry. The King is waiting to see you!¡± At that moment, another oddly fonted quest appeared in my vision with a *Ding!*
Quest: Kill the King! Kill the King. of the ELVES! King of ELVES Slain: 0/1 Rewards: [Unstoppable], Deific Intervention x 1 Do you accept? Yes / No
Solen¡¯s Sticky Stinky Socks! NO! STOP ASKING!!! ¡ª As we walked through the halls of the Elven King, my guards were slowly stripped away until it was down to Balin, Starshine, Lady Laurelstone, and Joseph and I walking the thick carpeted halls.They were pretty much empty but for a few scattered guards, and all the impressive art and architecture. Unlike the living plant buildings of the rest of the city, the palace was wood, glass, and stone. On the inside, it looked less like the Taj, and more like the palace of Versailles, which I¡¯d visited with Caroline once upon a time. Ah¡­ Versailles. We¡¯d eaten a lovely luncheon in the palace restaurant. A rice pilaf with chicken for me, and a shrimp and caesar salad for the wife. We¡¯d paired it with a rugged white wine from the Loire region of france. A Sauvage to be more specific, since it was made with Sauvignon Blanc grapes, and used natural ¡®savage¡¯ yeasts much like a lambic. It¡¯d been earthy, and light-bodied with notes of apple. Sauvignon Blanc green grapes were a popular white wine grape, and were related to the Cabernet Sauvignon we grew at our chateau. Hrm. Maybe that was a good way to introduce beer, and maybe even different kinds of wine to the elves. They were so in tune with nature and plants that they might appreciate the sauvage style of winemaking. I¡¯d need to experiment with my palette Ability. ¡°Looks like dwarven work.¡± Balin muttered as we passed some especially fine woodwork. ¡°It is.¡± Joseph nodded. ¡°This palace was put together through the work of all the races. A dragon was even involved at one point; a renegade from the continent of Drakken.¡± ¡°Is he still around?¡± I asked with genuine interest. A dragon! They¡¯d fought against the Gods and lost, then gone into self imposed exile on the other side of the world. ¡°No, he left on an adventure many millennia ago, and hasn¡¯t been seen since.¡± Well, that was a Chekov¡¯s Dragon if I¡¯d ever heard one. Were you our renegade dragon dear Joseph? There¡¯d better be a dragon by the end of this trip, or I¡¯d be giving you two stars at most. ¡°Was there a particular reason for so many different artisans?¡± Starshine asked. ¡°Hmmm¡­ yes and no. For Awedinand in particular, as a hub for the South and North, it behooved us to have a palace that everyone would find fanciful and familiar. For example, Whitewall in Kinshasa feels more like a tomb than a castle to my sensibilities. But with all the Gold and Silver and the white stone exterior, any dwarf can tell this is a palace.¡± We all nodded. That made sense. Our walk was interrupted by a handsome (for a beardless elf) beastfolk-shaped elf, who swept up to our party with a flash of sharp teeth and a swish of his satin cape. He was dressed in the eclectic wear of an adventurer; a mishmash of enchanted items that best suited his Abilities. I noted with interest that the usual ¡®fur¡¯ that one of the beastfolk would be covered in was green plant matter, while the ¡®horns¡¯ were the deep red of elven ¡®hair¡¯. He had a pair of bright and curious black eyes that crinkled with happiness and his leonine nose and pointed ears twitched as he spotted our escort. ¡°Ah! Lady Laurelstone! Is this our new Crackian Ambassador?¡± ¡°Your Highness.¡± Laurelstone swept a bow. The newcomer turned his eager gaze in my direction. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to have you in Tree, Lord Roughtuff! I¡¯ve been looking forward to meeting you! Prince Elijah of Raptor¡¯s Respite.¡± He held out his hand for a fist bump and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, I reached out and gave him one. ¡°I greet you on this most auspicious day,¡± I said. ¡°Yer the elven prince I¡¯m ta give access to Cascadia?¡± ¡°If you would!¡± His grin broadened. ¡°A new dungeon! What a rare opportunity! And am I correct in assuming you two are Balin of Goldenlight and Star of Silverlight?¡± He turned to Balin and Starshine. Balin shuffled his feet and flushed, and Starshine thumped her fist to her chest in a salute. ¡°Aye! That we are, your highness!¡± She practically shouted. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you were able to come! You were the first into Cascadia, correct? Perhaps we could chat about it over drinks? Or you could show us about? We¡¯d be happy to take you around Anima Dungeon in trade!¡± Starshine¡¯s body language spoke of a dwarf bereft of words as the eager Prince tossed question after question her way in rapid fire. He probably would¡¯ve continued if Joseph hadn¡¯t cleared his throat and swept a courtly bow. ¡°I do apologize, Your Highness, but His Majesty has summoned Lord Roughtuff.¡± Prince Elijah gave Joseph an arch eyebrow and scratched at his horns. ¡°Uncle has, ay? Very well then, press on. I¡¯ll send a missive to the embassy.¡± With that, he swept off in style, his leather boots clacking somehow even through the thick carpet. ¡°Shall we continue?¡± Joseph said, barely disguising a snort. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ different.¡± Starshine said. ¡°He is,¡± Lady Laurelstone smiled. ¡°And a bit of a hard case. Just don¡¯t beat him at anything, or he¡¯ll never stop hounding you for a rematch.¡± ¡°Speaking from experience?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a very good Kododo rider,¡± she sighed. ¡°Competitiveness is a fine trait for a Prince.¡± Joseph said with pride. ¡°Ah, we¡¯re here!¡± We turned a corner and arrived at a pair of gilded doors. A pair of Mithril armoured guards stood at attention outside it. They gave us gazes that left the telltale tingle of Abilities being used. Joseph grandly gestured at the door. ¡°The throne room of the King of Awemedinand, His Majesty King Ezrael the Third! And right on time, too!¡± Book 4, Chapter 17: Antechamber Antics The pair of rather intense guards stopped us as we approached the doors to the throne room. ¡°Halt! No weapons in the presence of the King,¡± one of them shouted in that no-nonsense, ¡®I don¡¯t really want to be dealing with you¡¯ tone unique to vice-principals and policemen. Joseph gestured at some seating just down the hall. ¡°I¡¯ll need to ask you to stay behind, Lady Laurelstone. And one of your companions too, Lord Roughtuff. Please leave your weapons as well.¡± I nodded. ¡°Aye. Starshine, do ya mind waitin¡¯?¡± ¡°Ach, aye.¡± The heavily plated dwarf took Balin¡¯s axe and my warhammer, then walked over with Lady Laurelstone to hold up the wall. The guard scanned us with his eyes, and probably a couple more Abilities. Then he gestured, and the doors swung open on their own. ¡°You may enter. Please wait to be called by the Sergeant at Arms.¡± And then we were through the doors, and inside a plushly appointed room. It wasn¡¯t too big, only about five meters by five meters. Another pair of gilded double doors sat on the opposite end. ¡°This is the antechamber.¡± Joseph said, taking a seat on a green gold-trimmed couch. ¡°They¡¯ll give us a short warning before we¡¯re due to enter. The guards will have notified them that we¡¯re here.¡± I sat on the couch across from Joseph and stretched out my feet while Balin stood behind me. Joseph looked up at him. ¡°You two are brothers? By blood or bond?¡± I smiled. ¡°By bond. Me brother and I went through a lot together.¡± ¡°Dwarves do take their kin and clans quite seriously.¡± Joseph looked oddly wistful. ¡°Elves are not quite so.¡± ¡°Any advice before we meet tha King?¡± I asked. I¡¯d crash coursed on elven etiquette with Duke Barnes and Tourmaline, but I could use any advice my elven business partner would give. ¡°Absolutely. The current King does stand somewhat on etiquette, so you¡¯ll need to ensure you make bows at twenty meters and ten meters. Don¡¯t approach the throne any closer than that. Just follow my lead.¡± ¡°Aye.¡± ¡°Make sure not to look him in the eye.¡± ¡°Heh. Eye.¡± ¡°And he¡¯s going to ask you about being Barck¡¯s Chosen. I recommend you be as cagey as possible.¡± ¡°Ay - erm.¡± I blanked. Fully. Blue screen of death. I had to use a [Flash of Insight] to get things started again. I jumped to my feet, and Balin went to pull out his confiscated weapon but grasped at air. ¡°You¡¯re-!¡± Joseph sketched a bow while seated. ¡°I am. Joseph Stannard, once Giuseppe Civran of the Republic of Venice. This crop¡¯s Chosen of Tiara, Goddess of Riches. This room is protected against scrying so we have a few moments to discuss things openly here, Peter. The King will want you to swear yourself to him, but you must not do it.¡± There¡¯d always been a possibility of this being a trap for me as a walking dungeon, let alone one of the God¡¯s Chosen. Balin and I had discussed at length what our options would be in that scenario. They were limited. I had an emergency Commstone that would put me in contact with Duke Schist, and a heavily enchanted rock that was constantly broadcasting my location to a paired item in Kinshasa. I just had to get somewhere safe, then wait for some dwarven diplomats to come arrange my release. Dwarven diplomacy often involved axes. Thankfully, I pretty much always had a safe place to hide close at hand these days. ¡°You have to ten,¡± I stated, walking to the nearest wall while Balin stood guard beside me. ¡°Then I¡¯m opening a door to Cascadia and shutting it behind me. And I¡¯m only giving you that because I¡¯ve known you for so long. Speaking of which, how long have you known I was one of the Gods¡¯ Chosen Catalysts?¡± If I closed the door behind me, I¡¯d get stuck there, but he didn¡¯t know that. And there were always options for getting out that I could try later. Joseph remained seated, and crossed his legs sedately. ¡°The King knows you¡¯re a Chosen because the founder of Awemedinand was a Chosen. I know because I¡¯m one myself, and you aren¡¯t exactly subtle.¡± I began counting down on my fingers. ¡°Ten. Why are you telling me now?¡± ¡°A fair question. I''m constantly under watch, but the antechamber here is enchanted against all scrying. It''s important to ensure diplomats can speak frankly before meeting the King,¡± Joseph explained, palms out. ¡°The King can''t move against me too explicitly, but he is my King, he can make things difficult for me. I''d prefer to stay in his good graces, so I kept quiet. I¡¯m telling you now because His Majesty will no doubt try to trick or trap you; he wants as many Chosen under his thumb as possible.¡± ¡°Like you? Nine.¡± Joseph looked offended at the thought. ¡°No! Not at all! I¡¯m only under his thumb so much as I want to continue being one of the wealthiest people in the country. The downside to a monarchy, you understand. But we Earthers should stick together, and that¡¯s worth enough for me to risk warning you here.¡± I scoffed. ¡°Eight! You said you were from Venice? What year?¡± Joseph shrugged. ¡°The sixteenth century. Does the exact year matter?¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°I guess not. And from what I know about the Venetians, I can definitely accept economic self interest as a motivation. Still doesn¡¯t mean I feel like trusting you though. And speaking of trust, does Berry know, or are you just leading her on? Seven! Joseph¡¯s mouth thinned. ¡°I¡¯d rather not discuss that right now. Frankly, my romantic relationship is not really your business.¡± ¡°Like hell it isn¡¯t, speakin¡¯ of Earthers stickin¡¯ together. Six!¡± ¡°Ugh. Rasberrysyrup has a unique way of looking at the world, and is quite shrewd when it comes to your modern ¡®pop culture¡¯. Even moreso than you, though she lacks your professional expertise. I also enjoy speaking with her; she makes me laugh. She will make an excellent partner for a few hundred years. I haven¡¯t fully told her about my past yet, but she also hasn¡¯t told me!¡± His tone grew a bit terse at the end there. Was he really upset that she was keeping her status a secret from him? ¡°Not sure I believe you on all that. We¡¯ll have to chat more, assuming I don¡¯t leave. Five. Why were you in Crack?¡± Joseph waved his hand nonchalantly. ¡°His Majesty had me pegged quite quickly, and offered me a minor position in the government. Then he sent me to Crack to find others. All the signs were pointing to your country as having one or more Chosen with all the turmoil there.¡± ¡°Four. To do what, just find and report?¡± Joseph relaxed back into his sofa, calm as a cucumber even as my heart hammered in my chest. ¡°To look for any Chosen that might be a threat to the Kingdom, while also fulfilling the request of Tiara. And to bring any Chosen that showed potential to Awemedindand.¡± ¡°And kill any that didn¡¯t? Three. What¡¯s the greedy possessive munchkin want?¡± Joseph looked scandalized, ¡°She¡¯s a GODDESS, Pete!¡¯¡± I rolled my eyes. Joseph leaned forward, his tone turning wheedling. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to kill anybody, just report back to the King if I considered anyone dangerous. Lord Harmsson could¡¯ve been, but you outfoxed him handily. As for Tiara, She just wants to open the trade barriers that¡¯ve formed over the past few Millennia. Simply put, she wants more people to possess more things.¡± I paused in my counting. ¡°Huh. That¡¯s good for me, actually. Is that why all this?¡± I gestured widely. ¡°Because you were some bigshot Venetian businessman?¡± Joseph folded his hands on his lap. ¡°A Patrizio. Yes.¡± ¡°That certainly explains your motivations and role. Also makes me trust you less. TWO.¡± ¡°Wait! Why!?¡± ¡°Any vintner worth their salt has read up on the Venetians. The glassblowers of the Island of Murano practically invented the crystal wine glass. I even owned one of their bottles. It was beautiful, fanciful, and bloody expensive.¡± ¡°Of course!¡± Joseph practically preened. ¡°All art and culture flowed from Italia!¡± ¡°And the glass craftsmen were put to death if they tried to leave Murano. The Venetian nobility were snakes. What guarantees do you have that this isn¡¯t a trap? ONE.¡± Joseph finally cracked, but only in his eyes, which gained an air of desperation. ¡°His Majesty can¡¯t do anything to you! I can¡¯t either!¡± I raised a bushy brow.¡°Why?¡± ¡°The Tree forbids it! Unless you count as a threat to the Tree itself!¡± I dropped my hand, which I¡¯d placed up against the wall to prepare to use [Dungeon Dimension]. ¡°Now we¡¯re talkin¡¯. The Tree? The [Mother Tree]?¡± Joseph looked chagrined. ¡°Yes. Or rather, its owner. The founder of Awemedinand. And likely the oldest of the God¡¯s Chosen still alive on Erd. Unless there¡¯s a draconic Chosen still walking around.¡± I gawped. ¡°Holy shit.¡± ¡°Yes, and she will not allow any other Chosen to come to harm. And the King is only King by her forbearance. It¡¯s complicated, but His Majesty Ezrael cannot move against you without jeopardizing his position. So he will seek your willing cooperation or trick you into it.¡± ¡°And you don¡¯t want me to give it to him.¡± Joseph grinned slyly. ¡°No! I¡¯m quite happy with being the sole purveyor of dwarven beer and brewing materials to Awemedinand. And whatever else you invent, as the Chosen of Invention.¡± ¡°And if I decide that a King would make a superior business partner?¡± He sighed. ¡°Then I would be disappointed, but I would understand. I think you would be hitching your bags to the wrong Kododo though.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± I eyed him critically. ¡°Have you gotten any hidden achievements?¡± ¡°You mean the one for melding my body and soul? Yes. [Mother Tree] recommended doing it as quickly as possible. Berry still hasn¡¯t, and I can see how it''s affecting her. Harmsson never did either. You can tell; they don¡¯t quite fit.¡± I had noticed that. Moreso with Berry since I knew her better. I stepped away from the wall. I was still uneasy, but¡­ I¡¯d known Joseph for about a year. He¡¯d been a good and honest business partner, and I didn¡¯t consider myself that bad a judge of character. Besides, most of what he¡¯d told me wasn¡¯t new information; ever since the reveal that Copperpot knew what I was, I¡¯d always assumed the higher nobility had protocols for dealing with Chosen Catalysts when they popped up. ¡°Fine, I won''t run now,¡± I growled, ¡°but if anything suspicious happens I''m booking it. And we¡¯re gonna talk later.¡± ¡°You sure, Pete?¡± Balin asked. ¡°Aye.¡± Joseph relaxed again. ¡°You are an ambassador from one of our closest trade partners. That adds another layer of untouchability.¡± Now it was my turn to slump into the couch. ¡°Ugh. Does Schist know?¡± Joseph pulled at his ears. ¡°Hmm, possibly. Though he shouldn''t have before he became Duke. Has his behavior towards you changed since then?¡± I thought it over. ¡°No, not really.¡± ¡°Then does it matter?¡± I sighed, and raked my fingers through my beard. ¡°I guess not. Agh!¡± There was a knock at the throne door. A moment later, the door creaked open and another mithril armoured guard peaked inside. ¡°His Majesty will see you now.¡± Joseph rose to his feet, ¡°Last chance to leave.¡± Eh, I had a quest. And the entire might of Crack behind me. ¡°Eh, let''s go. Come on Balin, Let''s meet the King!¡± ¡°Do I have to?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Book 4, Chapter 18: The King of the Elves My introduction to the elven Court was everything I could¡¯ve hoped for. As well as a massive disappointment. The architecture was breathtaking, with the throne room sweeping up the full three stories to create an absolutely massive space. Like the final boss room of a Japanese RPG. One of the walls was all stained glass, allowing a waterfall of colourful light to stream over the marble statues hanging from the walls and ceilings. The far wall from where we¡¯d entered was dominated by a dais leading up to a twisting silver tree with golden leaves. The throne was built into it, and swirling lines of filigree spread out from the steps leading up to it to twist and curl around the room like vines. The pure artfulness of the architecture put the greatest art nouveau architecture of Earth to shame. It really drove home how utilitarian dwarven architecture could be. Joseph was right that this place screamed ¡®Royalty¡¯ way more than anything in Kinshasa. Guards lined nearly every wall, spaced at five meter intervals. They all wore the same mithril armor, with a fluted helm and a leaf motif for the shoulder pads. They wielded longspears and stared straight ahead, ignoring us completely. The elf who¡¯d called us in ¨C the Sergeant at Arms? ¨C announced our presence. ¡°Announcing His Lordship, Bartender Peter Roughtuff, Ambassador of The Nation of Crack and Forefather of Brewing, and His Lordship Merchant Joseph Stannard, Head of the Greybough Consortium and His Royal Majesty¡¯s Ambassador the Nation of Crack!¡± It was only my high Charisma that kept me from tripping over my own metal shod boots at that introduction! Beside me, Balin barely kept a snort in. ¡°You may enter!¡± A [Project Voice] enhanced call came from an even more-ornately armoured guard standing near the throne. ¡°Follow my lead,¡± Joseph whisper-hissed. ¡°Balin, stay by the door.¡± Joseph then strode forward, head down, keeping his eyes from the throne. I did the same, peeling away from Balin as he took up a position by the entryway. As I edged forward, I got a better view of the elven nobility. Or at the very least, the elves I assumed were the elven nobility. And here was where the disappointment set in. I¡¯d been expecting satin gowned elves draped over every surface, their gleaming green skin a testament to good skin care. Goblets of elven wine held at cocky angles to mock and tempt me while they whispered behind fans made of phoenix feathers. Instead, the majority of the nobility sat on the floor, watching us with looks of pure boredom. I even spotted one with his eyes completely closed; was he napping!? They were all dressed to the nines in fine cloth and supple leathers, but none jumped out at me quite like Prince Elijah had earlier. And not a goblet to be seen, though a few were smoking long pipes, the smoke curling up to hover near the ceiling. These were high elves only so far as their smoking habits were concerned. Yes, some had that ¡®aura¡¯ I associated with a high Charisma, and they looked self assured¡­ But they lacked the sense of strength and power I¡¯d gotten from the Lord of Minnova, or Duke Barnes. Or any of the other high dwarven nobility. They felt more like¡­ Lord Blackbeard. Somewhat slovenly and egotistical. The feeling of status earned through nepotism rather than hard work. And in a world with literal God given strength for those who showed excellence¡­. It was noticeable. Heck, every single guard in this room felt stronger. What was going on here?? I¡¯d need to pry some more out of Joseph later. We bowed at the appropriate distance, and then made the final approach. At this distance I was just able to make out the elven king, from below the neck. He was dressed in a green silk open-chested robe with white loose pants. He had a six pack. And a goatee. And he was nothing compared to the dwarven King. That palpable pressure just wasn¡¯t there, and when he yawned, I didn¡¯t want to throw myself to the ground in terror. Psh, weak sauce! The fancy guard next to the throne cracked his spear on the tile and spoke once more, ¡°You stand before The Immortal Arborist, Speaker of Tree, Master of the Kododo Knights, and High King of Awemedinand, His Royal Majesty, Ezrael Bower!¡± The King turned his attention on me, and I felt an invisible weight on my shoulders, much like I had when meeting the King of Crack.
Milestone Used [Unbending] has prevented [Powerful Aura].
The pointy-eared bastard was using a cheat!!! Booooo!!! Maybe I should kill ''im! Maybe they''d get a decent King next time! ¡°We welcome you to Our court, Ambassador of the underworld,¡± The ¡®imposing¡¯ figure intoned. At least his voice was cultured and smooth.; a point in his favour, he had a lovely tenor. It was also slightly different from Joseph¡¯s, closer to the Human accent ¨C what I¡¯d call ¡®Cascadian¡¯. That had to be the local ¡®Archis Academy¡¯ equivalent accent for those who¡¯d spent a long time being educated. ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty.¡± I said, not taking my eyes from the ground; Joseph still had his peepers nailed to the floor. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to be here.¡± The King looked at his nails, not even sparing me a glance. ¡°We understand that your King has placed you here to spread new brewing practices amongst His people in Our nation.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°Know that We are allowing this, not only as a boon to Our dwarven peoples, but because We have taken a great interest in you.¡± Phew, what a line! At least Wine and Dine me before telling me that! I kept a snicker down and after a beat, nodded. The King stood from the throne and descended one step down the dais, then dropped his bombshell. ¡°We understand from Our loyal Subject, that you are one of those Chosen by the Gods this time to serve as a Catalyst for change in Erd.¡± Whoop, there it is! Thank you Joseph! I nodded, using my high Charisma to tamp any emotion from my face. ¡°Aye, Your Majesty.¡± No point in lying; [White Lie] wouldn¡¯t work on it, and he almost definitely had people with [Truespeech]. If the King was disappointed in my blase response to his ambush, he didn''t show it. ¡°From what world do you hail?¡± It took me a beat. From what world?? Then it hit me. No duh there were other worlds. But since Harmsson, Berry, and now Joseph were all from Earth, it hadn¡¯t occurred to me that there could be Chosen from other worlds running about. Maybe there were Chosen here from High Tech or Kung Fu worlds! Wouldn¡¯t that be cool! I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the other elven nobility. They looked moderately more interested in this thread of conversation. Well, there went any chance of cover or plausible deniability. Well, who cared! I was best buds with two Dukes, had a highly defensible dungeon, and the entire country of Crack behind me at this point. I could deal with it. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Joseph had said to be cagey, right? How in tha Nether was I supposed to be cagey in these circumstances? I finally went with, ¡°Earth, your Majesty.¡± The King sniffed. ¡°The same Earth as Joseph?¡± That smelled like a test, and I barely kept from glancing at Joseph beside me. I considered my words for a millisecond before replying, ¡°I wouldn''t know, Your Majesty, Joseph hasn''t spoken to me about his universe; I''ve only just learned that he even was one of the other Chosen. ¡®Erd¡¯ is named after the Erd as well, so it may be that many worlds name their planet after dirt.¡± The King laughed, a tittering thing, and His Court followed a beat later. ¡°Amusing. And which of the Gods do you serve?¡± ¡°Barck.¡± ¡°And for what purpose has Barck brought you here?¡± Ah, there was a question to be cagey about. ¡°He wishes for more to drink, your Majesty,¡± The King barked another short laugh. ¡°Hah! He has wine! What more could he want?¡± I was about to retort when a little voice in the back of my head ¨C my Charisma? ¨C told me not to, so I just held my peace. Plus, I kind of agreed with him. ¡°But that does seem in keeping with what We know of the Lucky One,¡± the King mused, ¡°and from what We hear of your exploits in Crack, you have performed quite admirably in that regard thus far. Is Barck pleased with you?¡± ¡°I assume so.¡± There was a beat of silence at that, and then the King walked back up to drape himself over his throne. There was a patter of feet as a servant ran up to pass him a drink in a big golden goblet. I felt my mouth water. Was it wine? Could I have a sip? He took a sip, then swirled the cup. ¡°We have also heard that your people have not been overly kind to you. At least two riots? And you spent a few years in an internment camp.¡± "Yes, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°And yet you have provided them with great wonders. New ¡®Sacred Brews¡¯, ¡®Boomdust¡¯, ¡®Bottles¡¯ and more.¡± ¡°Aye.¡± ¡°Consider Lord Ambassador Stannard, beside you here in Our presence. We saw his potential immediately, and granted him riches and power. We elves have long memories, and remember more than all other mortal races. As you no doubt saw when you arrived, dwarves are blind to the light, and fear the heights that success can bring. But we fear nothing! In Awemedinand, you can innovate with complete freedom, no matter what comes! We can provide you a safe place to do all the brewing you would wish, and gold to rival a Kingdom.¡± I sent quiet fervent prayers to Joseph. Gods, this would¡¯ve been a nightmare conversation if I hadn¡¯t been mentally prepared. The King¡¯s voice dropped to a seductive whisper. ¡°And We could grant you all the wine you would wish to drink.¡± I kept from gasping, barely. Shit, was I addicted? Or was this just had to be how some dwarves felt about Sacred Brew all the time. Barck¡¯s Beard, this trip was really turning into an eye opener. ¡°What say you, Lord Brewer?¡± The King continued. ¡°Swear yourself Our Dwarf, and We shall grant you everything your heart desires.¡± I¡¯d been preparing an answer to that particular question since Joseph¡¯s warning, so it came out easily. ¡°I thank Your Majesty for Your kind offer, but my heart and loyalty belong to my beloved Crack. My clan awaits my return.¡± The King drummed his fingers on his throne for a moment before trying another tack. ¡°Your Kingdom has you rooming in the embassy does it not?¡± ¡°Aye.¡± ¡°That seems a waste for such a grand guest.¡± He snapped his fingers and a silken sarong''d d\warf elfess peeled off from the watchers and approached me in a sultry gait, blinking her eyelashes and twirling her beard coquettishly. She carried a silver platter with a piece of folded paper on it. The King gestured at the platter while gauging my reaction. ¡°Please, accept this as a token of Our friendship. A deed to Lands and a Manor in The Boughs. It would be a shame for the Forefather of Brewing to welcome guests in a shabby embassy in the Roots! It will be yours in perpetuity, even if you should leave Tree.¡± There was shocked whispering amongst the courtiers as the elfess held the platter out to me. I gulped. My greed itched, but it smelled like a trap, even if I didn¡¯t know what kind. ¡°Ahem, Yer Majesty. I regret that I am forbidden from acceptin¡¯ any gifts in my official capacity. I appreciate yer generosity, but I''m afraid I must decline.¡± I slammed my closed fist on my chest in a dwarven salute. ¡°You would refuse Our gift?¡± The King said, his tone rising, and the pressure in the room rising.
Milestone Used [Unbending] has prevented [Intimidation].
¡°Aye.¡± I kept the growl out, but barely. ¡°I owe much to the Dukes and my King, and I have given them my loyalty.¡± That''s right, just appeal to an irrelevant authority! Always does the trick. The pressure stayed on for another few seconds, and then the King relaxed. ¡°A pity,¡± he sighed. ¡°But loyalty is a virtue, is it not.¡± He waved the elfess away and she returned to her spot on the sidelines. His voice rose to be officious. ¡°We welcome you to Our city, Lord Ambassador of Crack. Lady Laurelstone has been assigned to your protection and will serve as your guide while you remain. You shall want for nothing, simply ask Lady Laurelstone. Perhaps you shall change your mind during your time in Our beloved Tree.¡± I knocked my head on the ground. ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°And Lord Stannard, it pleases us that you have brought us this Chosen,¡± the King said, finally turning his attention from me. ¡°You shall be rewarded as promised. You are henceforth given the rank of Count, and lands to the East. We understand you have also brought another Chosen? This Raspberrysyrup?¡± Joseph shifted. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. She has deigned to take me as a suitor.¡± There was a swell of laughter in the crowd, until the King raised his hand, silencing the room. ¡°If that is the case, We have no need to see her. Escort her to the Spring ball, that We might meet her there. We wish you the Luck of Barck and Yearn in your suit. Should she stay, you shall be duly rewarded further.¡± ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty, but her love is reward enough.¡± Joseph said, an edged smile on his face. Phew, what a line! The elf rose a notch in my estimation. The King frowned. ¡°It seems that Our gifts have lost their luster, given that they have been refused twice today. Is she truly worth my displeasure?¡± A single bead of sweat ran down Joseph''s bowed forehead and dripped onto the ground. ¡°Yes, your Majesty.¡± The King considered Joseph before smiling as well. ¡°Then cherish her, and may Yearn bless your Union. We shall offer you Our palace chapel for your wedding should you desire it.¡± ¡°Thank You, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°Think nothing of it. Now, We must deal with other matters. Good day to you both.¡± The King made a gesture with his hand, and the Guard at the foot of the dais shouted, ¡°You are dismissed!¡± ¡°Back up slowly, keep your head down.¡± Joseph muttered as he stood and bowed, then walked slowly backwards, reversing the exact motions that we¡¯d made when we first approached. When we reached the door, the Sergeant at Arms held it open for us and we turned and walked out, followed by a shell-shocked Balin. As we did, a notification popped up with a *Bing!*
Quest Complete: The Ambassador Part 2/3! You made it! Now make some wine! Gained [Karmic Reversal x 1]!
*Bing!*
New Quest: The Ambassador Part 3/3! Go to the Winery! Winery Visited: 0/1 Rewards: +0.2 Dexterity, +0.2 Agility Do you accept? Yes / No
I hit ¡®yes¡¯, then immediately collapsed on the couch. ¡°Argh! What by all tha bits o¡¯ tha Gods was that!¡± ¡°Court,¡± Joseph said, shrugging. ¡°It reminds me of the Medici. Pompous, with the self-assurance that comes from those destined for power. As for the rest of it, there¡¯s a reason for it. I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± I eyed him, then gave him a two-fingers-to-the-temple salute. ¡°Your forewarning really saved me. I owe you one. Thanks.¡± Joseph smiled. ¡°I graciously accept your debt.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°... Greedy Venetian bastard.¡± ¡°New World Barbarian.¡± We glared at each other for a beat then broke into laughter. ¡°I don¡¯t get tha¡¯ joke,¡± Balin sighed, then collapsed face first into the couch beside me. ¡°Ach, good job brother,¡± I murmured, patting him on the back. Balin had always been a royalist, and extremely weak to nobility. He flashed a thumbs up but didn¡¯t move. ¡°Our first stop will be your embassy,¡± Joseph said, gesturing at the door. ¡°You should rest there. No doubt it¡¯s been a busy day for you.¡± I agreed, so we swept out the doors, picked up the two ladies and our weapons, and then wound our way back through the palace to our Kododos. I was numb for the rest of the trip to the embassy, and barely even registered when we arrived. There was a welcoming committee, and bottles of beer, and some eager diplomats, but all I could focus on was the thought of a dark hole and a warm bed. As soon as I was escorted to my quarters, I shut the door behind me, and opened the door to Cascadia. As I stepped through the ornately carved door, golden light washed over me, and with one stride, I stepped from a strange land into the familiar sounds and smells of the Thirsty Goat. There was a cheer as my clan stood arrayed by the entrance, awaiting my return. A sign hanging from the first floor balcony read. ¡°Welcome home Balin and Kirk! And Pete!¡± The last bit was painted on like an afterthought. Aqua¡¯s touch, probably. I was home. Book 4, Chapter 19: Embassy Ball Book 4, Chapter 19: Embassy Ball I woke up in my room in Cascadia to the feeling of goat fur. If you¡¯ve never woken up with a goat, it¡¯s a warm, cozy, smelly, horny thing to wake up to. And not in the good way. ¡°Ugh! Penelope! Gerrof me!¡± I groaned, trying to shove the surprisingly heavy unigoat out of my bed. *Baaaah!!!!* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] ¡°Stop hogging the blankets!¡± She used her pointy horn to grab my blanket and pull it over her body, then curled into it. That left me cold, exposed, and cranky. Not the best way to start the first day at my new job. ¡°Friggin¡¯ fraggle rockin¡¯ Yearn bedamned goat.¡± I grumbled, pulling myself out of bed. I made my way to the hot spring and lay in the hot water where I was soon joined by Balin and Annie. ¡°Good morning, Mr. Ambassador,¡± Annie said, cheerfully. ¡°Are you ready for the busy day ahead?¡± ¡°I hope so,¡± I sighed. ¡°I need to meet with the embassy staff, then start putting out feelers into the local dwarves for people interested in learning how to brew. I also need to talk to Joseph about Berry, has Balin explained about Joseph?¡± ¡°Aye,¡± Annie groaned. ¡°Another one of you??¡± ¡°I mean, there are eight. That makes¡­ half that we know now? Given the quests that Solen, or maybe Aaron have been giving me, I¡¯m most worried about their Chosen.¡± Annie eyed me quizzically. ¡°You didn¡¯t mention any quests from them.¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not sure it was from them. And besides, I turned ¡®em down.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t your ¡®quests¡¯ give incredible rewards? Why would you turn them down? What were they for?¡± ¡°To kill the Kings of Crack and Awemedindand.¡± I sank deeper into the water and bubbled while Annie hyperventilated, and Balin gawped. ¡°Anyways, I¡¯m off. Wish me tha¡¯ luck o¡¯ Barck.¡± I said, popping to my feet and splashing water everywhere as I waltzed over to grab my towel. ¡°I should be fine today, Balin, if you lot want to start explorin¡¯ tha¡¯ Dungeon.¡± ¡°I hope Barck eats your beard!¡± Annie shouted after me. I tossed her a rude little gesture as I made my way back to my room and put on my good armour. A quick meal in the Liminal Inn ¨C scrambled eggs with beer sausage and beer gravy ¨C and I was ready for the day. ¡ª I, in fact, was not ready for this; it was way too early in the week for this shit. I stared out over the sea of well-dressed well-to-dos, and it felt like every eye in the room swiveled to stare right back at me. I was too much of a raging extrovert to be intimidated by mere crowds and attention. No, it was the sheer reverence I could feel that was giving me the ¡®ol heebee jeebees. I shuffled uncomfortably and looked for the door. It was right there. I could just leave. But today was a party to greet the new Beer Ambassador, and everybody who was connected to the embassy was invited. The Crackian embassy was in The Roots, which was a limestone cave system that ran directly beneath Tree. It was nowhere near the size of Crack or Kinshasa, and was closer to something like the Horne Lake cave system back on Vancouver Island. Thankfully it was decidedly less wet, since the local dwarves had set up sluices, runoffs, and various other bits of plumbing to carry water away from the caves. The embassy itself kept a mostly skeleton crew, with the Ambassador, a half-dozen clerks, a [Butler], some maids, and a small collection of soldiers. Yes, there were now two Ambassadors from Crack. The actual Ambassador, Otto Rocksmasher, a balding and debonair black skinned dwarf from Kinshasa who looked like Mr. T ¨C to the T, nyuck, was still head of the diplomatic mission; I was just the beer Ambassador. Looking around at all the Kinshasa expats, I could see mostly dwarves and gnomes, but there were also decidedly more humans, elves, and beastfolk than I¡¯d ever seen in Crack. They mingled happily with the dwarves and gnomes, cheerfully chatting away in perfect dwarven rather than the ubiquitous common tongue. ¡°We¡¯re so thankful you were able to come, Your Excellency.¡± Otto¡¯s academy trained voice came from beside me, his cheerful tone pushing aside my rising anxiety. ¡°Of course, Yer Excellency.¡± I said, swiftly switching into businessman mode. I¡¯d stood in front of the King and all of Kinshasa. I could handle being the center of attention as the Forefather of Brewing. ¡°Tha King asked, and I provided. I¡¯m happy to provide brewin¡¯ lessons fer the citizens of Crack no matter where they may be. Oh, and Pete¡¯s fine; we¡¯ll be working together for a while, methinks.¡± ¡°Haw haw,¡± Otto laughed. ¡°Here in Tree, you¡¯ll see more than just the dwarves of Crack! We¡¯ve got conclaves from tha¡¯ Northern Kingdoms, and tha Southern States. And you can call me Otto!¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ then tell me, Otto. Are they likely to react badly to the changes we¡¯re makin¡¯ to the Sacred Brew?¡± I asked, glancing back at all the faces turned my way with a bit more worry. Could there be hidden Master Brewers amongst them? Ready to pounce? ¡°Naw. They all have embassies in Kinshasa too y¡¯know. Every dwarf on Erd knows who you are and what you¡¯ve done. There¡¯s a few bitter holdouts, but none of them are as bitter as these wondrous sours of yours!¡± He laughed, holding up a genuine Minnova Barck¡¯s Beer Brawl Whistlemug. ¡°Eh, Pot Corporation does most of the good sours these days.¡± I muttered, self deprecatingly. ¡°Aye, but we all know it was your idea.¡± He patted me on the back. ¡°Now, howsabout I walk you around and introduce you to some folk. You¡¯ll be working close with ¡®em while you get set up. How long do you think that¡¯ll take?¡± We began to mingle throughout the room, greeting various diplomats and Crackian tourists and immigrants, while doing our best to avoid being splashed by cheerfully raised tankards. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I thought about it for a while, and ran some [Mental Math] and [Flash of Insight] to help come up with the required numbers. ¡°Honestly, I think it¡¯ll take at least a year. If I¡¯m settin¡¯ up a brewery that¡¯s also meant ta serve as a training facility, while also doing soirees and meeting folk, it¡¯ll be a year at the minimum. I¡¯ll also need lots of space, preferably above ground, with room for plantin¡¯.¡± The ambassador¡¯s moustache twitched. ¡°Well now, that¡¯s no time at all!¡± ¡°I work quickly.¡± I grinned. ¡°And it¡¯s nothing new. It¡¯ll be my third time in the past five years.¡± ¡°Phew. I¡¯ve heard tell of some craftsman that don¡¯t change their tools in centuries, and you¡¯ve had to setup a full new system three times? You have been a busy dwarf! Guess that explains why you¡¯re the best brewer in Crack!¡± I rubbed the back of my neck as a nearby table of dwarves and their elfess companion raised their beers and loudly toasted ¡®the best brewer in Crack.¡¯ Gods, I was never going to get used to that. ¡°And here we have someone you¡¯ll be seeing a lot.¡± Otto said, pulling me from my reverie. It was the scent of onions that clued me in before I ever saw them. Oh say it isn¡¯t so! But it was! At the table were two dwarves, a beastfolk, and a giant. One of the dwarves was a greybeard in the black clothes of a Master Brewer, while the other wore black leather armour with gold trim. The beastfolk was wearing a cream coloured elven style sarong, while the human was dressed in a fine shirt and jacket that looked like a cross between a british 3 piece and a chinese tang suit, which was in contrast to the wicked axe strapped to his back. ¡°Ambassador Roughtuff, let me introduce you to Guildmaster Stein, Lord Michael, His Excellency Falith, and Guildmaster Boromir.¡± He pointed to the greybeard, the finely dressed dwarf, the beastfolk, and the human in turn. ¡°His Excellency is the Ambassador from the Allied Plains Tribes, Master Stein is the guildmaster of the local Brewer¡¯s Guild, and Adventurer Boromir is the guildmaster for the local adventurers.¡± I nodded to each, but had to hold back from choking when he gestured at the bushy bearded human. ¡°Boromir??¡± ¡°Yes, that would be me. Have you heard of me?¡± He preened He had the same deep cascadian accent I associated with Kirk, with a bit of newfie thrown in. ¡°Uh, no. I just knew another Boromir.¡± Hot damn, he even kind of looked like him. Or like Sean Bean, with the reddish beard and the battle-scarred look. He looked genuinely pleased at the news. ¡°Really! It¡¯s not too common a name; a dwarf?¡± ¡°No, a human.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that interesting! I thought I was the only one. Perhaps I¡¯ll meet him one day!¡± He laughed, a booming sound. I gave a weak smile in return. I seriously doubted that. ¡°So yer the whippersnapper I¡¯ve been hearing about.¡± Guildmaster Stein groused. He was drinking from a regular tankard instead of a Whistlemug, I noticed. ¡°I¡¯ve been the one dealing with the fallout of all your nonsense. I¡¯m gonna be droppin¡¯ that whole load on you, you realize.¡± I bowed at the waist, cupping my hands. ¡°I greet you on this most auspicious day, Master Brewer.¡± He waved me away. ¡°Bah! Save me yer sophistry. I don¡¯t give a damn; I was about to retire anyways. But the youngin¡¯s are enjoyin¡¯ brewin¡¯ more than I¡¯ve seen in centuries. Reminds me of my hitball days¡­¡± He sighed, taking a drink from his mug. ¡°And this ass-blaster ain¡¯t half bad.¡± There was a toot and the other three edged away from him. ¡°So, you are the Lord Peyter I¡¯ve heard soh much about.¡± The beastfolk said, in a pitch perfect norwegian accent. His antlers were larger than any other I¡¯d ever seen around the city, and were festooned with silver and gold and jewelry. My internal translator assigned accents based on my internal prejudices, so was it giving him a norwegian accent because he looked like a cross between a reindeer and a snow leopard? Or did I somehow associate ¡®nomadic wearer of gold¡¯ as ¡®viking¡¯? ¡°Aye.¡± I gave him a head-waggle, which was their equivalent of a bow. The beastfolk didn¡¯t bow forwards for obvious, pointy, reasons. My studying, paying off! ¡°Lord Peter, at yer service.¡± ¡°Then I hope you have more beeyr to serve us! I¡¯ve been enjoying this Liquid Gold!¡± ¡°Oh! Is it ours?¡± I asked, craning my neck to peer through his Whistlemug. ¡°It is! I had it brought in special!¡± ¡°Well, thank you for your patronage!¡± I gave him a toothy grin, and he returned a decidedly more pointy one back. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency.¡± The black clothed dwarf nodded, jumping into the lull in our conversation. ¡°And thank you for looking after my sister.¡± ¡°Your¡­ sister?¡± ¡°Aye. Duke Barnes is my older sister. My name is Michael Barnes.¡± He gave me a small bow. I tried to remember if Duke Barnes had told me about her brother being here. I didn¡¯t recall it, so it probably wasn¡¯t important. Still, I¡¯d need to ask Annie to bring Tourmaline to Cascadia so I could ask her about her uncle. ¡°Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, don¡¯t you be doin¡¯ any brewin¡¯ in my city without my say so,¡± Guildmaster Stein grumbled. ¡°And tha¡¯ Guild has asked that you allow their craftsmen to watch while you build yer bloody big brewery.¡± I nodded. ¡°Of course, that was half the purpose of me coming.¡± ¡°Good. Will you be needing some local craftsman, or did you bring yer own?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got the blueprints, but I was hoping to use locals,¡± I admitted. ¡°Good. I heard you were a bit daft from Guildmaster Malt, so I¡¯m glad yer learnin¡¯. I expect we¡¯ll be runnin¡¯ you ragged.¡± My smile thinned. ¡°I would certainly love to see your brewing practices! But I must be away on the morrow.¡± Ambassador Falith sighed, drinking again from his tankard. ¡°There have beeyn more incursions into the tribes by slavers. They toohk over a dozen families this time. I¡¯ve been called home to provide my magical expertise.¡± ¡°Bah. Bastards.¡± Boromir spat. ¡°Um¡­ it¡¯s the human kingdoms that are doing it, right?¡± I asked, glancing out of the corner of my eye at Boromir. ¡°Are¡­ your people okay with all the humans in the city?¡± Faith and Boromir looked at each other, then burst out laughing. ¡°Oh! You are new to this!¡± Faith guffawed. ¡°The human kingdoms are not like Crack or Awemedinand. They rise and fall, and the humans themselves are as varied as the grasses on the plain. While the humans of the West prey upon our peoples and destroy our culture, we still have allies amongst the giants in the East.¡± ¡°Aye! Like Grandia! My home!¡± Boromir declared, thrusting out his chest with pride. ¡°Home of the free and the brave!¡± ¡°But¡­ It is true that our people now lack direction.¡± Fahlin sighed, scratching at his antlers with a hairy three-fingered hand. ¡°Our last [Shamans] were slain in the war, and the path to Specialize as one has been lost. Without their [Shamans], the tribes refuse to unite. I fear¡­ that our nation may soon perish.¡± The mood had grown somber, and I pulled at my beard guiltily. ¡°Oh, um¡­ sorry.¡± ¡°Not your fault, Your Excellency. Perhaps we will join ouhr kin in the South.¡± He smiled sadly. ¡°And give up thee nomadic life to live amongst the city states.¡± ¡°Bah! Grandia will have your back!¡± Boromir declared. ¡°Can they stand alone against the united strength of the West? I think not,¡± Haflin¡¯s tone grew heated. ¡°There¡¯s a reason your Archon has refused to mayke a public declaration.¡± ¡°He outlawed slavery!¡± ¡°And yet he refuses to condemn the Eastern Bloc!¡± Otto took me by the elbow and led me away as the two set to bickering. Guildmaster Stein rolled his eyes and buried himself in his tankard while Lord Michael waved goodbye. ¡°Come along this way, Peter,¡± Otto grumbled. ¡°We have some delicious snacks from South Erden that you really must try. And those two could be at it for hours.¡± ¡°Are things really that bad?¡± I asked. Otto nodded, ¡°Aye. Between the recent increases in dungeon breaks, and the human/beastfolk war, the number of beastfolk refugees in Tree has skyrocketed. Things may come to a head soon.¡± It looked like it was the same troubles everywhere. Perhaps that was why the Gods had chosen now to send their Chosen. Things seemed ripe for upheaval. Or maybe we were the upheaval. Something to chew on. Either way, it looked like it was going to be a busy, busy, year. At least it would be easier than whatever fresh Canadian hell Balin was going to find in that dungeon. Book 4, Chapter 20: Balin - A Year in Cascadia Part 1 Month 1 Team Brightstar slowly trudged their way down the lane in Formation Four, their shields at the ready and performing leopard checks every few seconds. ¡°Y¡¯know, I think I prefer this to Whitehall, but it is a bit disconcerting.¡± Flowerpott complained, pointing at the odd black stone beneath their feet. ¡°This is a road, right? In a dungeon??¡± ¡°Focus.¡± Starshine chided, but Balin could tell she agreed. Because it clearly was a road, made with a mixture of tiny pebbles and some black substance that held it together and kept it flat. It was certainly nice to walk on, though Balin suspected it wouldn¡¯t hold up to heavy carriage traffic. It certainly couldn¡¯t beat reliable old dwarven flagstone work, but it would probably be quicker to make if they could figure out how to replicate it. Not that dwarves cared about ¡®quick¡¯. ¡°Movement North East. Down in the trellises,¡± Raysdotter whispered, pointing down to their right. ¡°I see it on the glassflies,¡± Flowerpott added a moment later. ¡°It¡¯s small, but it¡¯s standing on a mound, so there may be more.¡± ¡°Bah. Keep an eye on your feet everyone.¡± Starshine muttered. ¡°And take Ironshell precautions.¡± They were nearly halfway down the hill from the Liminial Inn, as Pete had taken to calling the new Thirsty Goat in Cascadia. Thus far they hadn¡¯t seen any motion, and it¡¯d been wearing on them. Old dungeons often had monsters crawling in every square meter of space, as they jockeyed for control and dominance. Over time the strongest monsters would push out the weaker, and there would be a Dungeon Break, or a new Boss of a zone would be crowned. A young dungeon like this would need more time to reach that point. If they wanted, they could even keep the dungeon population down through constant ¡®farming¡¯, but that would destroy the ecosystem and kill the biodiversity that made dungeons so valuable in the first place. The hill coming down from the Inn was mostly a short fine-clipped green grass, dotted here and there with yellow dandelions. The sky was still that azure blue it¡¯d been the first day, with billowing white clouds sweeping across it to disappear over the horizon. It was bright and cheerful, though Balin considered it to be nowhere near as blinding as that benighted sun. Running parallel to the road and stretching off down to the ocean on their left and the mountainous forests on their right, were wooden trellis that ran the length of the hill. They were covered in dark green vines that looked to be heavy with round green and purple fruits. Pete and Aishablue had called them grapes. As they edged closer to the aforementioned mound, it became easier for those with a lower Perception to make out a small round brown ball sitting on top of ot. To Balin¡¯s eye the creature looked to be a perfect sphere, roughly the length of his thumb. It had a light dusting of white on it, and it blended in perfectly with the soil. It clearly noticed them, as it spun to watch them with two beady black eyes. ¡°Bah. It¡¯s so damn small. Manny won¡¯t be able to anything to it.¡± Flowerpott muttered. ¡°I hope it¡¯s not a swarm. I hate swarms.¡± Raydotter complained. ¡°We¡¯re about to find out. Our job is to categorize the locations and any monsters we can find. The faster we do it while the dungeon is young, the easier it is for everyone later,¡± Starshine said. ¡°And don¡¯t ferget we need to bring Pete stuff too,¡± Balin added. ¡°Yes, yes. Formation Six everyone. Watch your feet.¡± Starshine pointed outwards. The group spread out, Balin and Raysdotter moving left and right, with Starshine protecting their vulnerable backline. The tiny creature quivered as they got closer, and opened a tiny mouth full of teeth, before letting out an angry shriek. Everyone activated their buffs at once. ¡°[Rally]!¡±¡°[Lesser Blessing: Agility]!¡±¡±[Revealing Light]!¡± In reply, the tiny creature vanished into the Erd. The party blinked. ¡°Hold!¡± Starshine called. The party held. Nothing happened, and then nothing happened, and then nothing happened. Starshine grumbled. ¡°Bloody coward monster. I¡¯m moving up. Formation Seven.¡± Starshine moved up past Balin and Raysdotter as they fell back. Gingerly, she walked up to the mound and its donut shaped hole, and poked it. ¡ª ¡°It¡¯s not funny!¡± Starshine whinged later, desperately scratching her beard. ¡°It looks like dandruff.¡± Raysdotter said with choked horror. ¡°Maybe she shoulda shampooed more.¡± Flowerpott snickered. Then he full belly laughed, holding his sides. ¡°Grrrrr!!!¡± Starshine growled, then resumed scratching. ¡°IT ITCHES!¡± The tiny monster had been alone, thankfully, but when Starshine had poked its lair the beastie had rocketed out like an arrow from the string and smacked into her helmet, resulting in a detonation of white powder. The powder had gone straight through Starshine¡¯s eyeslit, leaving her gasping, blind and choking. The worst part was, it itched. Aishablue returned, holding a small runed stone that she¡¯d held to the little beasties corpse. ¡°The Archstone says it¡¯s a... Timbit?¡± ¡°A Timbit? What in tha Nether is that??¡± Flowerpott gasped, finally regaining control. ¡°A monster in a dungeon? Tha¡¯ gods name it, we just find it.¡± Raysdotter shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s Pete¡¯s dungeon. He said there would probably be monsters based on his world. Ask him.¡± Balin said, while keeping an eye on the surroundings. There hadn¡¯t been any movement other than the odd arrow shaped formations flying far above. ¡°These young dungeons are bloody quiet.¡± ¡°We only get three months before Raptor¡¯s Respite moves in. We have that long to find and catalog as many monsters as we can, and name as much of tha¡¯ dungeon as we can. I¡¯d like to at least get to the middle if possible.¡± Starshine muttered, her usually cultured Academy tones falling to the gruffer notes of West Crackian as she scratched. ¡°I do hope it means we¡¯ll get to see more of that Prince Elijah.¡± Raysdotter sighed. They¡¯d had the opportunity to meet Raptor¡¯s Respite in the Liminal Inn, and Raysdotter had been immediately smitten by the bright eyed and red horned prince. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°I think we should make sure we know everythin¡¯ in each zone before we move deeper.¡± Balin muttered. ¡°I donnae like leaving unknowns behind us. Even if it slows us down.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Starshine nodded. ¡°Agreed.¡± Everyone else said. Starshine pointed down the hill, tears in her eyes. ¡°Then let¡¯s start on this hill, then move onto the next one. But someone else pokes any timbit holes we find.¡± ¡ª Month 2 While most of their time was spent in the dungeon, the party still found themselves running back to the Liminal Inn whenever they got tired or needed to restock. ¡°Y¡¯know, Pete. Having a rest point like this in the dungeon is gonna be the envy of every adventurer.¡± Starshine sighed as she finished sipping on a new ¡®Red Ale¡¯¡¯ that the Thirsty Goat was selling. It was nearly the colour of blood, and reminded Balin of the ¡®iron brew¡® or ¡®blood brew¡¯ whatever it¡¯d been called back in Minnova. The taste was a softer version of the Thirsty Goat¡¯s porter, and he found he actually preferred it. ¡°Aye,¡± Pete commented, sipping from his own Whistlemug. ¡°But I still dunno how we¡¯re gonna run this place if we do. It¡¯s huge. Seriously, we had that open house for Tree last week, and even with the combined traffic from Kinshasa and tree we still only filled a third of it. And people still had to wait a full thirty minutes to be served!¡± ¡°Just use any spare worldstones you have lying around on Darrel¡¯s elementals,¡± Flowerpott muttered with no small amount of spite. ¡°That should prove interesting.¡± ¡°Hey, I¡¯ll have you know this dungeon exists because we did that,¡± Pete protested. ¡°But why did you have a spare worldstone!? There¡¯s so much you can do with them!¡± ¡°Reasons.¡± ¡°How is your ambassadorial work going, Pete?¡± Starshine asked, changing the subject before Flowerpott could get too worked up. Pete shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ going. I¡¯m not a politician, so I¡¯m kinda just treatin¡¯ it as an advertising tour. I have some experience with those. Openin¡¯ the door to the Liminal Inn in Tree required a bit of finagling with Guildmaster Stein of tha Tree brewers guild though, since it meant we were now ¡®brewin¡¯ within city limits¡±. We worked out a dea; they want me to open a brewing school in Tree, so that¡¯ll probably eat a lot of my time in the comin¡¯ year. And the elven nobility keep tryin¡¯ ta hook me up with their sons and daughters. I swear, if I see another dwarf elf flick her beard at me, I¡¯m gonna freak¡± Starshine patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Barck¡¯s Luck!¡± Pete gave her an appreciative nod. ¡°Thanks. Speaking of which, you find anything more? Are you ready to leave The Vineyard yet?¡± ¡°Not yet,¡± Starshine shook her head. ¡°We need to fully map everything, it¡¯s not as simple as just exploring. Thankfully, the worst we¡¯ve found have just been the Keggers.¡± ¡°Keggers?¡± ¡ª Month 3 ¡°[Greater Challenge]!¡± Balin roared as another two of the dwarf-sized oaken barrels sprouted wooden legs and advanced on them with a skittering crablike gait. ¡°Godsdamn Keggers!¡± Raysdotter roared. ¡°It¡¯s an affront to the Sacred Brew! A Monster that looks like a cask till ya¡¯ try to drink from it!!!¡± ¡°Then stop trying to drink from random kegs!¡± Starshine admonished her friend, as she drove her maul through the first Kegger. Iits long wooden tongue lolled out as its brown beer-like lifeblood flowed out of the hole she¡¯d smashed in its side. A dozen motionless barrels lay strewn among various gardening implements next to a nearby trellis. The Keggers, and their smaller cousins Growlers, liked to hide amongst the barrels and ambush thirsty dwarves seeking a drink. Raysdotter stuck out her tongue. ¡°But some of ¡®em are actually drinkable! It¡¯s free beer! In a dungeon!¡± ¡°More like a drunkgeon.¡± Flowerpott snickered. ¡°Shut up and hit things,¡± Starshine groaned. ¡°[Basic Charge]!¡± She rocketed forward and into the Kegger that was snapping at Balin¡¯s flank as he held the other off with his glowing shield. ¡°[Basic Slash]!¡± ¡ª They made up for the lack of beer later in the Liminal Inn, drowning their sorrows over being forced to kill poor defenseless barrels of beer. Pete joined them, morosely sipping at a Golden Brew. ¡°Why¡¯re you so sad?¡± Raysdotter asked. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to send little casks on their way to tha Nether.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been betrayed,¡± Pete whinged, leaning across the table and burying his head in his arms. ¡°Oh no!¡° Aishablue said, hopping up and walking around to pat him on the back. ¡°Are you alright? What happened?¡± ¡°Raspberry Syrup left me!¡± The little white robed gnomess¡¯s face scrunched up like she¡¯d smelled something awful, and she stalked back to her chair and plopped into it. She scowled and took a deeper drag from her sour. ¡°I thought she was dating Joseph?¡± Starshine asked, barely keeping the amusement from her voice. ¡°She is. But she just swore herself to the Elvish King.¡± Pete growled. ¡°That traitor! After all I did for her.¡± ¡°That¡¯ll have¡­ an interestin¡¯ effect on her fans in Crack.¡± Flowerpott mused. ¡°I dunno. She¡¯s still allowed to put on shows in Crack. She just needs permission from the King.¡± Pete rubbed the back of his head. ¡°Argh! I dunno, I think it¡¯s the wrong idea but she seems ta think it¡¯s worth it.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Starshine asked, curious. Pete hesitated. ¡°There¡¯s some¡­ stuff. It¡¯s private though, sorry.¡± ¡°Then why bother telling us!?¡± Raysdotter complained. ¡°You tell me about your troubles!¡± Pete retorted. Raysdotter rolled her eyes. ¡°We work fer you!¡± ¡°Speaking of which!¡± Flowerpott shouted, pulling a long metal tube from his pocket. ¡°I invented something new! Thought you might like to see it! It¡¯s not quite as useful as a stickyfoot bag, but I think it¡¯ll be a hit for adventurers in the dungeon.¡± ¡°Interesting. What is it?¡± Pete asked. He leaned in to look closer. Everyone else leaned back. ¡°Assorted timbits!¡± Flowerpott proclaimed proudly, and twisted a lever on the tube. Instantly, a dozen little round snarling balls of angry fluff flowed out and into Pete¡¯s face. White powder fountained off of them, coating the table and his poor erstwhile brother. ¡°IT ITCHES!!!!¡± He screamed. Team Brighstar nodded in shared pain as Flowerpott rounded the timbits back up and fed them some grapes before stuffing them back in the tube. It did indeed itch. ¡ª Month 4 ¡°I think these are my least favourite monsters in the history of ever.¡± Aishablue complained, as she continued sponging off her boots. ¡°They swarm, get into your clothes, and make an awful mess when you squish them.¡± ¡°Least they¡¯re not hard to fight, eh?¡± Raysdotter remarked, cleaning her mace and wiping off her leather. ¡°Wrathgrapes suits ¡®em for a name.¡± ¡°I think we can say we¡¯ve seen everything in the Vineyard now,¡± Balin said. Unlike the rest, his armour was still gleaming. Everyone gave him an angry glare. They¡¯d now fully mapped out The Vineyard, cataloguing all the wildlife and laying out the common locations for dungeon ingredients. The ecosystem was usually quite simple in the first zone in dungeons, and Cascadia followed suit. The Vineyard mostly contained mounds of timbits, swarms of keggers and growlers, the Wrathgrapes, and the occasional wandering brown and red elementals that the party had taken to calling ¡®Alementals¡¯. Other than that, there were a lot of trellises covered in mana-filled grapes, a smattering of sheds that were usually full of keggers but also could contain barrels of actual booze, a few apple and pear orchards, and an endless supply of completely mundane grass. ¡°Then, let¡¯s head into the forest!¡± Starshine pointed at the forbidding woods. The forest was nothing like the Darkwood, as light filtered through the branches, giving it an almost mystical feel. It was filled with evergreens and odd red five-pointed leaf trees that Pete had called maples. And for some reason, the scent wafting out of the woods was sweet. Book 4, Chapter 21: Balin - A Year in Cascadia Part 2 Book 4, Chapter 21: Balin - A Year in Cascadia Part 2 5th Month of the Year 8001 The forest in Cascadia was very different from the Darkwood in Greenwood. It was more verdant, and felt cleaner ¨C more alive and less like death. It was a nice feeling, and the sounds of birdsong made it almost pleasurable. They¡¯d taken to calling it the Redwood, both in reference to the star shaped red leaves on many of the trees, and in homage to their beloved Minnova. Even the monsters were similar. ¡°But why is it called Chicken of the Woods?¡± Flowerpott asked as they cooked the yellow spongey flesh over the fire. ¡°Because it tastes like chicken?¡± Raysdotter mused. ¡°I do not know what dwarves think chicken tastes like, but that is not it.¡± Aishablue quipped. ¡°Pete¡¯s got that new tongue changin¡¯ Ability. We could ask him.¡± Balin remarked. ¡°It¡¯s delicious, is what it is.¡± Starshine gushed, chewing on a skewer of the mushrooms. ¡°They¡¯ll be an instant export. Thank the Gods that stuff originally from the dungeon can still get through the door. I¡¯d been worried about that!¡± ¡°Just no living monsters.¡± Aishablue nodded. ¡°Very kind of Barck.¡± ¡°Unless you bring ¡®em in.¡± Flowerpott snickered, caressing his tube of Assorted Timbits The party glanced over at the very dead monsters. It was a pile of mushfolk, the mushroom people of Greenwood, though these were subtly different. They had the same oyster mushroom-like body, and short stubby legs and arms, but these were an off-yellow colour, with a wide ridged and folded head. ¡°Delicious,¡± Starshine said again, munching away. ¡ª ¡°Delicious,¡± Pete agreed, following his mouthful of mushfolk with a foaming beer. ¡°And there are lots of ¡®em?¡± ¡°Aye,¡± Starshine said, pulling out a map and pointing at a few areas outlined in red. ¡°Mostly here, and here.¡± Pete looked over the map and nodded appreciatively. ¡°How¡¯s yer ambassadorial work treating you?¡± Raysdotter asked, grinning. ¡°You ready to chop off any heads yet?¡± ¡°Ugh, Midna¡¯s Mangy Mullet, yes.¡± Pete swore. ¡°I¡¯m tryin¡¯ ta get my brewing school set up, and I¡¯m runnin¡¯ into annoying little roadblocks at every corner. It¡¯s not sabotage, per se, but the underlyin¡¯ subtext of ¡®you could just swear to the King and make this all easier¡¯ is right there.¡± Raysdotter snorted. ¡°Sounds like royalty.¡± ¡°Plus, I¡¯m not used to building with plants. Do I use trees or gourds? How do I even choose??¡± ¡°Beats me.¡± ¡°Mhm.¡± Pete leaned in and asked quietly. ¡°So¡­ did I do somethin¡¯ ta make Aishablue and Flowerpott mad at me?¡± Raysdotter looked at the two gnomes who were seated on the far side of the table, shooting angry glances their way. She giggled. ¡°Aye, you¡¯ve got a weird monster in your dungeon, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°Weirder than Timbits?¡± Pete snorted. ¡°Yup. They¡¯re called Forest Gnomes, according to the Archstone. They¡¯re ankle-high little buggers with sharp teeth and tall triangular ears that look like a pointy blue hat. They¡¯re covered in red fur and chatter like squirrels, but have the faces of baby gnomes with white handlebar moustaches. They¡¯re a bit disturbing, eh? Not gonna be a hit with the gnomes.¡± ¡°Oof.¡± Pete groaned, and gave the two gnomes a sick smile. Flowerpott shot a rude gesture back. The 6th Month of the Year 8001 ¡°It¡¯s a bear.¡± Raydotter chimed. ¡°It¡¯s a deer.¡± Flowerpott cheered. ¡°And it¡¯s drunk.¡± Starshine sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a Beer!¡± Aishablue shouted. ¡°AND IT¡¯S CHEWIN¡¯ ME BLOODY BEARD OFF! GERRIT OFFA ME!¡± Balin roared, desperately using his shield to keep the red-eyed, sharp toothed, antlered beast away from his neck. With his free hand he pulled an Assorted Timbits from around his neck and fired it into the monster¡¯s face. It reared back, pawing at its freshly powdered and itching eyes. ¡°[Basic Charge]!¡± Sharshine called, smashing into the beast from the side. Her mace found its head, and it died instantly, collapsing to the ground in a tangle of fur and hooves. Another four of the Beers came charging into the clearing, bellowing. The two in the lead tripped over their own hooves, coming to rest in a tangle of angry limbs, and one screeched to a skidding stop before wandering off distracted into the woods. ¡°These things are hilarious!¡± Flowerpott crowed, as Manny caught the final beast¡¯s charge on a razor sharp sickle claw. It gave a confused bleat before turning and running away. ¡°They really are just like drunk dwarves!¡± ¡°We are nothing like that.¡± Starshine growled. ¡°This is demeaning!¡± ¡°Hah! After those Forest Gnomes you lot have nothing to complain about!¡± Aishablue let out a peal of laughter. ¡°And ¡®Beers¡¯ is just a perfect name for them.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The ¡®Beers¡¯ were skinny bear things with deer antlers and four hooves, and they really did act like drunken dwarves. Sometimes they just wandered past, hiccuping, and other times they were angry drunks and wouldn¡¯t stop chasing you until you knocked them out or killed them. And they often traveled in grumbles. They weren¡¯t quite as dangerous as the Chicken Of The Woods, but they could be devastating in big groups. ¡°Gods, this dungeon.¡± Balin sighed, getting to his feet. ¡°I need to have a talk with Pete.¡± ¡ª Balin stared at his brother in shock. ¡°Really? You think you¡¯ve found another of those Chosen?¡± Pete nodded, his face serious. ¡°Aye, I think I ¡®ave. I¡¯m not too sure yet, and I¡¯ve got Joseph looking into it. I ran into her at a tea shop. I¡¯m almost positive that she¡¯s from my world. She seems harmless enough, but we¡¯re taking it safe for now.¡± ¡°Ach, seems like you¡¯re just as busy as we are.¡± ¡°Aye. Anything new to report?¡± Balin shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re deep into the Redwood now. Still no boss monsters yet, but it¡¯s gettin¡¯ to be about time.¡± ¡°Any good places for a teleporter yet?¡± ¡°Naw. Places high enough in Mana for that would have a boss nearby. We find the boss, we find a good spot for the teleporter!¡± 7th Month of the Year 8001 When they weren¡¯t spending time in the dungeon, team Brighstar was on guard duty alongside Lady Laurelstone. They weren¡¯t needed that often, but they did enjoy the odd opportunity here and there to step away from the grueling effort of adventuring. Today was one of those days. They were arrayed to help keep the peace as Cascadia finally opened to the general public of Tree. The entrance door was located in a prime part of the Boughs, under the Greybough to be precise, courtesy of a friendly gesture from Joseph. Pete rubbed his hands with glee at the veritable sea of gnomes, dwarves, elves, giants, and beastfolk standing outside. ¡°Isn¡¯t it exciting? First row seats for the opening of the first trans-dimensional bar in Erd!¡± ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s the first?¡± Balin asked, curious. ¡°Aye. I had Richter look into it. Aqua even made a sign.¡± Pete pointed to a banner hanging from the tree, which read, ¡®Grand Opening of the Thirsty Goat¡¯s Liminal Inn ¨C First Trans-Dimensional Bar in Erd!¡¯ ¡°How are we gonna serve this many people, though?¡± Balin asked, looking out over the crowd. ¡°The folks from Crack are already in there, right?¡± ¡°Hard work? Effort?¡± ¡°Ah, so that¡¯s why Aqua was swearing so much.¡± Pete chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll see how it goes today. But I think we may need to get some extra help.¡± Balin looked out over the boisterous and growing crowd. ¡°Less may, more will.¡± 8th Month of the Year 8001 ¡°RUN FASTER!!!¡± ¡°Manny can only hold it for so long!¡± Flowerpott screeched as they leapt a log. ¡°Someone carry me! [Remote Control!]¡± Starshine grabbed the gnome as he fell limp in their arms. Behind them, a deep honking din was mixed with the sound of shattering glass. ¡°NO! MANNY!!!¡± Flowerpott cried, coming back to himself. He tried to jump out of Starshine¡¯s arms and go back the way they¡¯d come. ¡°We can go back later!¡± Raysdotter screamed. ¡°What is that thing!¡± ¡°It¡¯s gotta be the boss!!¡± Balin replied from the back of the group. He was the heaviest armoured after Starshine, but lacked all her movement Abilities. ¡°It looks kinda like a duck, so it must be the ¡®Canada Goose¡¯ Pete talked about!¡± ¡°Geese are majestic creatures of life and water! Not whatever in tha Nether that was!¡± Aishablue screeched. ¡°It¡¯s got the antlers of that other one he mentioned as a possibility, what was it?¡± ¡°A moose!!!¡± Aishablue replied, her tiny legs churning as fast as her robe allowed. Behind them there was an angry honk followed by a thundering of webbed feet, before a monstrous shape burst through the forest. It stood nearly as tall as the trees, with an impressive rack of antlers, each the size of carriage. Its face was somewhat reminiscent of a horse, with thick lips and wide nostrils. Its body however, was more like the terrifying ducks that roamed the riverways of Erd. It had the wide taloned wings and the wicked clawed and webbed orange flippers. It¡¯s body was mostly off white, with mottled brown markings along its back and black on its wing tips. It gave another angry honk as it lowered its antlered head and charged, wings wide and flapping. Its head smashed fallen trees, unfallen trees, and stumps alike, splinters flying into the air as deadly shrapnel. ¡°It¡¯s a GOOOOSE!¡± Raysdotter shrieked, her mirth briefly drowning out her terror. ¡°It¡¯d better not be called that!!!¡± Starshine groaned. Behind them, the Goooose came to a sudden stop as its wings tangled in some low lying ivy. It honked and screeched, then hissed in a low rumble that filled the air around them and sent all the songbirds flying into the sky. They didn¡¯t stop running until they were back in the Liminal Inn. ¡ª ¡°Ahaha! Did you manage to kill it yet?¡± Prince Elijah asked. Raptor¡¯s Respite had finally been granted access to the dungeon and were making their way through The Vineyard. Like Brightstar, they were taking their time to make sure nothing had been missed. Tonight they were all gathered in the inn, sharing food and stories with the Thirsty Goat crew. Alongside Prince Elijah, the team had two other elves ¨C one a jolly green giant and the other another beastfolk, as well as an actual giant, and a rather debonair gnome. The team was pretty front loaded, with prince Elijah and the two giants serving as heavy fighters, and the mage gnome and the archer beastfolk serving as a backline. The gnome had struck up a quick romance with Aishablue and the two of them were muttering sweet magical nothings to each other in a secluded corner of the inn. ¡°It does sound like a moose and a goose. Gooose is a brilliant name for it.¡± Pete said, grinning at Raysdotter. She grinned back. ¡°What a bout a Mooose?¡± Aqua asked. Pete shook his head. ¡°Nah, makes it sound like a cow.¡± ¡°We may need to fight it together.¡± Raysdotter sighed. ¡°When we¡¯re sure there¡¯s nothing else around.¡± ¡°And break the guild rules?¡± Elijah asked, grinning. He pointed to a desk that was being built next to the exit to the dungeon. It was of standard Adventurer¡¯s Guild design, and would serve as a Guild request and return station. It had been a while coming, and Pete had managed to get some great concessions out of the Guild for it. ¡°We¡¯re the only two teams in there.¡± Starshine scoffed. ¡°And what the Guild doesn¡¯t know can¡¯t hurt it.¡± Respite¡¯s Southerner human, a dark skinned young southerner woman by the name of Hildegarde, laughed and slapped Starshine on the metal shoulders. ¡°An excellent plot! I agree, Elijah, let¡¯s do it when we''re done with the Vineyard!¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see. For now, while we haven¡¯t yet found the boss of the Vineyard, we did manage to find this!¡± Elijah said proudly, thumping a keg on the table. ¡°More beer?¡± Pete asked, leaning forward. The beers in the Vineyard barrels were a solid mix of Crackian beers; they''d even found a barrel of Assblaster once. ¡°Speaking of which, how¡¯s your beer lessons going, Pete?¡± Annie asked as she cuddled up to Balin. ¡°Not bad, not bad. The brewery is up and running, and I¡¯ve got a good crew. Give it another month and I think it¡¯ll be self sufficient. Can¡¯t happen soon enough; this job¡¯s been eating up my life. I¡¯ve barely gone outside in months.¡± He sighed, and lay his head on the table. ¡°Well, then let¡¯s crack this open and cheer you up,¡± The prince said, his smile wide. ¡°It¡¯d need to be some damn good beer.¡± Pete said, his voice muffled on the table. The prince¡¯s smile grew wider, and sharklike. ¡°It¡¯s not beer. It¡¯s wine.¡± When he came to, with a splitting headache, Balin decided that elven wine was excellent. But it just didn¡¯t quite pull on the heartstrings like a good Sacred Brew. ¡ª 1st Month of the Year 8002 And just like that, a year passed in the blink of an eye and the swing of an axe.