Chapter 222: Book 3: Chapter 65: The Garden of Graves

Book 3: Chapter 65: The Garden of Graves

The next month was a blur, not because we were busy – we were, but not that busy – no it was a blur because it was so fun. I didn’t even have time to write in my journal with all the fun I was having.

I wrote everything in my beer journal though!

With the floodgates open, we began trying absolutely everything, just to see what stuck to the wall. That included testing every different kind of hops I could get my hands on, and wasn’t our only hop distributor happy about that! I gave some to Joseph to see if he could grow them in the elven kingdoms and help drive down the prices. He’d agreed, and I couldn’t wait to see the results. Right now we were buying up most of the hops in the city and I felt bad for all the craft brewers.

And there were so many craft brewers!! There wasn’t a day that went by that some young and excited dwarf came by the shop and asked for brewing advice. We couldn’t give them our formulas or Ancestral Seed (that was still controlled) but I could point them in the direction of other craft brewers with working yeasts and offer bittering ‘advice’.

They brought beer for me to try too! Most of it was awful, but a few were turning out some great craft Ales! Four different dwarves came rushing in over the course of the month to announce that they’d been Blessed or Titled due to finding their calling in life. They ran the gamut of miners, adventurers, labourers, and minstrels – every walk of life.

And now they could live a life of exploring what they loved.

I couldn’t help but feel that this was how Titling was supposed to work. It wasn’t that you worked hard at something for ages and ages until the Gods rewarded you for your hard work. Instead, you were meant to find something that clicked for you, and the Gods would take notice.

Kirk told me that was closer to the human approach, which was why the short-lived species still had plenty of Titled.

It was a problem for another time and another Chosen – I had my hands full already.

In one week we’d made the following beers:

A Saison – a light pale ale with added fruity adjuncts and extra bottle conditioning for extra fizz. The favourite so far was a mix of elderberry and the saaz hops with a hint of Goldstone bitters. Saisions were best paired with chicken or any other kind of white, light, meat. It seemed to cause severe burping in most dwarves, which had… interesting results when drunk with Ass Blaster.

A Sour – with the need for salt out of the way, we were free to play around with different kinds of sour. They continued to be the most popular with Gnomes, and I ended up sending all our test brews to Copperpot. The most popular style among our dwarven clientele was made using a spicy fruit from Greentree called a Crim. The result reminded me of a Spicy Mango beer using Cayenne Peppers that I’d had in California. I couldn’t recall the exact brewery that made it, but it’d been amazing. I put the beer’s popularity down to all those who loved Riverside’s Burning Brew, but couldn’t quite take the heat.

And finally, I managed to get my Protein Conversion spell to work consistently enough to whip up a small batch of barley brew that didn’t cause everyone to collapse with agonizing cramps. The team declared the brew ‘average’, though Kirk really liked it, and Johnsson swore it had a delicious balcony aftertaste. It would take more time for me to get the spell working consistently enough for mass production, but for now I was confident enough to start working on my next spell.

A basic Fireball.

Because, of course. And screw the haters! Throwing fire was a man’s - er - dwarf’s romance!

My new brews quest had updated to a nice new total as a result of all that hard work.

Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!

More! MORE!

Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don’t count.

Drinks Invented: 14/16

Rewards: +1 Strength

Yessiree! I’d been a busy dwarf!

This is all to say that our little event with Schist kind of crept up on me. Not to say I wasn’t prepared! But between all the brewing, and the additional therapy sessions, relaxation sessions, and more, it felt like the end of the fifth month came screaming up with all the subtlety of Penelope demanding a beer.

We took extra precautions for the party this time. We chose one of the largest, most secure, and most venerable beer gardens in Kinshasa for the party – an enormous open seating area in Redwall called ‘The Garden of Graves.’ In typical morbid dwarven fashion, it was the location where the dwarven defenders of the young country had won a major battle against the monsters that once controlled Crack. Nobody had wanted to build on the site, and over the millennia the large open space had been converted to a beer garden.

Because what could be more honorable to the ancestors than throwing a drinking party over their graves?

Mausoleums were interspersed with dwarven picnic drinking tables, and you had to watch where you stepped to avoid tripping on tombstones. Strings of Solstones overhead lent everything a cheery orange glow. We'd set up gigantic barrels of Dragonator and Burning Brew every dozen or so meters on raised platforms. They were more for decoration than drinking, but they'd do if we ran out.

They also had a surprise inside.

The place came with guards, but we’d hired more. A lot more. After the Redlip Riot, the adventuring guild was more than happy to recommend a bevy of muscular teams to keep the peace. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

We wrote drinking regulations, and set out clear signage that anyone breaking the rules would be given the toss.

For entertainment, we managed to get Raspberrysyrup, a solid collection of [Bards], and even Sam! The redheaded old rapscallion was coming with Harmsson, and offered to provide some rip-roaring bagpiping to set the mood.

And so the end of the fifth month was upon us.

Suddenly.

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I passed through the crowd, head bopping to Berry’s latest hit, All that Glitters is Gold

, set to the classic Smash Mouth tune, and collected a few dirty glasses. We’d learned from previous mistakes, and were only letting in enough clientele to fill the space, leaving the rest to stew in line.

AND NO BEER IN THE LINE!

There were complaints, but nobody wanted a repeat riot. Even the city Guard had turned out in force, with an increased presence on the periphery of the event. Any time the line got out of hand, they were often first on the scene, breaking up fights and removing ne'er-do -wells.

My tax dollars at work.

As a joint endeavour we had our small team working with Riverside brewery’s massive coterie of journeymen and apprentices. I couldn’t imagine trying to run an event this big with just our team.

Master-no-more Schist approached and gave me a happy smile. He had a tray in one hand stacked tall with metal tankards.

“Things are going great, Pete! Your giant is great at breaking up fights! The arm on that fellow! I could’ve used him back in the day for tossing drunks in the river!”

“Go find yer own giant!” I cat-called back.

“Nah, I’m not allowed to throw past the dock anymore. Few decades back someone didn’t get dredged up by the fisherdwarves and ended up caught in the sluices downstream. He survived, but the city wasn’t happy with me.”

“Hah! So you’ve been a thorn in their side fer a while! Glad to know that I wasn’t tha cause fer yer fall!”

“Not a fall Pete.” Schist took a deep breath, his face growing pink as he looked around the space with open pleasure. “This is the most fun I’ve had in centuries. Ya know, I had a dozen young dwarves come and show me their brews last week? And six of ‘em got Blessed by Barck!”

“Six!? I only ‘ad four!”

“Har! I guess we know who's still the most popular brewer in Kinshasa, then!”

I grumbled, but conceded the point. It didn’t really matter; the Thirsty Goat was now the favourite to win according to the betting pools, and I’d have to take my victory there instead.

“Actually, I came ‘cause some of the lads were asking for you.” Schist nodded to a distant corner of the garden where some pong tables had been set up. “They’re wanting you to set up something called Axeschlaggin?”

“Ah… no, we decided not to run that tonight fer reasons. I can give ‘em somethin’ else ta do though!”

“I’ll leave it in your capable hands!

I wove my way through the crowd to the tables, and my smile grew wider as I saw the players. Some of them were familiar to me, namely Rumbob and Drum, while the rest were a solid mix of dwarves and gnomes. The dwarves still outnumbered the gnomes, but it was a noticeable shift in demographics. Bando was present as well, facing off against Rumbob and Drum. His partner was a sultry looking dwarfess. Oho!

“‘Rum Tum Rumbob!” I called as I approached. “Drum! Glad ta see you!”

“Pete! Ya blighter!” Drum called. “I can’t believe ya made Harmsson wait in tha line!”

I shrugged. “He wants to uplift tha common dwarf, he can wait with tha common dwarf. I let you an’ Sam in early, didn’t I?”

“Har! Aye! And wasn’t Lord Newcastle miffed about that! He near exploded when Harmsson meekly got into line! Made this whole nonsense worth it!”

I sniffed. “It’s not nonsense. It’s a party!”

“Bah!” Drum scoffed and turned back to the pong table. His silver arm blurred, and the pong ball sank directly into one of the cups on the opposite end of the table. Bando and his partner groaned.

“Pete! Ya gotta help us here!” Bando pleaded. “Drum’s too good at this! Do you have anythin’ else we could play?” His partner nodded eagerly.

I pulled a gold coin out of my pocket and flipped it in the air. It sparkled as it fell. I caught it in a practiced motion and covered it up on the back of my other hand. “Heads or tails?” I craned my neck at Drum. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

Drum rolled his eyes as Rumbob laughed his big belly laugh. “Ya think I’m gonna fall for that tired old goat?”

“Worth a try. You seem to like Pong, so I’ll teach you a similar game called ‘Coins’”

Drum looked at the gold coin in my hand. “Coins… does it involve tossin’ the coin in a cup?”

“Kind of. Everybody sit around the table. Drum, Rumbob, you two there, Bando and, ah – “ I gestured at two spots on the table beside each other. Doing my part to help the younger generation find love! Ah, Pete, you’re such a sweetheart!

“Birch.” The dwarfess said in a strong alto, as she put her hand out for a fist bump. She had a dark green heart shaped beard and was wearing a flowing dress of amber with bright blue highlights. It looked a lot like Aqua’s usual ensemble, though with a breastplate that showed off her assets and bracers instead of pauldrons.

She pulled in the chair next to Bando, and gave him a sparkling smile. The kid fairly keeled over.

We older gentlemen at the table shared a knowing glance and hid grins.

I pulled out my own chair to sit and was interrupted by an angry bleat. Penelope was underneath the table, probably trying to catch any falling mugs of beer.

*Baaahhh!!!* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] “How dare you invade my space, varlet!”

“Sorry Penelope. Okay everyone, the game is simple.” I declared, pouring a full whistlemug and sitting down between Drum and Birch. “The mug full of beer goes in the middle. Then we each take a coin and try ta get it in the beer.”

Drum blandly stared at me as he pulled a gold coin from his pocket and tossed it in the beer without even looking at it. “That all?”

I chuckled. “No, no. You have to bounce it off tha table first. You cannae just toss it in. And, when ya succeed, you point one person out. They have to drink tha beer, and catch the coin with their teeth when they do.”

Bando had a thoughtful expression. “But if’n they’re too drunk and drink the coin?”

I grinned. “Then they shit gold tomorrow. And they’re out. You’re also out if you fall unconscious.”

“That’s better.” Drum murmured, as he bounced another coin off the table and failed to sink it. “Hmmm…. How do ya even do it?”

“I’m an old hand.” I gloated, expertly thunking a coin off the table and into the glass. Drum watched my wrist as I did it a few times in a row, then tried it himself. He didn’t quite sink the coin, but he was close!

Rumbob, Birch, and Bando quickly followed suit. Rumbob immediately figured it out, followed by Birch, and finally Bando.

“I say we spice things up!” Drum called. “Winner gets to keep all the coins!”

“*Ho Ho Ho!* you think you’re good enough for that?” Rumbob laughed with a tinge of menace.

“Aye, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” Drum thundered, plunking a strange blue colored coin on the table. I leaned in to look closer; it looked just like a gold coin… but was blue? Bando looked just as confused as I did.

Rumbob however, recognized it immediately. “A mithril crown! Where did ya get that!”

“Secret!” Drum grinned. “Now, what’s yer ante?”

Rumbob looked thoughtful, but eventually pulled a perfectly round hunk of black metal from his purse. It wasn’t a coin, but had some rune inscriptions that indicated a magical nature. “It’s an adamantine fire starter for my pipe. But I’ll want a bit of practice.” He then went straight to smashing the coin on the table.

I thought for a while then shrugged and pulled out a gold coin. “I don’t have anything fancy. But I’ll add a sack of gold if I lose.”

We turned to look at Bando, who turned red. “Me maw says I’m not allowed ta gamble. And I don’t got much ta bet anyways.”

I took pity on the kid. “I’ll cover him. Same bet as me. Think of it as a bonus, Bando.”

We all turned to look at Birch. She reached tantalizingly beneath her breastplate and pulled out a disc of metal. Seriously, why do ladies do that?? Caroline used to do it all the time, and Sammy eventually copied her! You didn’t see guys wandering around with money stuffed in their jockstraps!

She thunked the disc on the table, and it glittered as it spun, wobbled, and fell. It was made of a shimmering golden metal, with a white gem set in the center that glittered with an inner fire.

Four dwarven eyes snapped from where they’d just been to the center of the table.

“Will that suffice?” Birch smiled wolfishly.

“Good luck…” Drum muttered to Bando.

Bando just gulped.