I grunted as I helped lift the heavy piece of glass into place.
“I think that’s it.” I grumbled.
“I think we’re done, boss man!” Kirk said, straightening his back with a crack. “Phew, that was a heavy one! Alright lads, co and give ‘er!”
A trio of grey robed journeyman brewers ca running over, wrenches in hand as they went to rrily tighten down the final piece of our grand plan.
I looked over the collection of copper, brass, glass, and runes and rubbed my hands together with glee. After today I‘d be free! FREE!!!
A voice called from outside. “Pete, Guildmaster Stein is here to see you!”
“Comin’! You got this, Kirk?”
“Aye, aye. Just need to tighten up the bolts then start the burners?”
“Yep, you got it!”
Kirk gave a thumbs up and I ran out to et my visitor/inspector. As I passed out the door of the brewroom, I also passed by a relatively new addition to the crew here at the Crack School of Brewing. In all his pink-tip-bearded glory, and completely at his ease in an elvish style sarong, was Johnsson.
“Anything new, Johnsson?” I asked as I hurried past.
Johnsson nodded. “Two new lads here to sign up fer lessons. I think that’ll put us at capacity.”
“Ugh. Already??”
“Aye.”
“Okay, open up a waitlist for next season. Anythin’ from Urist McBrew?”
“Nope!”
“Aight! Finish up with the registrations, then go see Kirk. They’re ready to get the Nether Infused Bottler running.”
“Ach, finally! Will do!”
I hurried out to our central courtyard to et our guest, passing beneath the wide leaves of the pumpkins as I did so.
Yes, pumpkins, because the illustrious Crack Brewing School, the first of its kind in the world, was built within a collection of house sized pumpkins. There were a total of five pumpkins on the large plot of land that Awedinand had set aside for my use. They were arranged in a five pointed star, in turn serving as a Brewery, a Classroom, a General Storage Room, an Admin Room, and a Ferntation Room. Each pumpkin was about the size of a two bedroom apartnt back on Earth, with additional space dug out underneath, so there was plenty of space for everything we needed.
I was personally dressed down from my usual dress armour. Now that I was up in the sun all day, I’d taken to wearing a more comfortable combination of a light linen shirt and dressy pants. I still had a lot of gold and silver adornnts to keep up appearances, of course. I’d finally taken the plunge and gotten my left ear pierced, and purchased a fine collection of jeweled hoops and cuffs to ensure I wasn’t wearing the sa thing every day.
This past year had been an absolute whirlwind, and I’d honestly forgotten most of it. Between the soirees, the building of the school, the etings with local brewers, the Goooose incident, and then MORE etings with local brewers, I was just about up to here with everything Ambassador related.
I found Guildmaster Stein waiting in the admin office. He was admiring so of the beer paraphernalia that I’d put up on the wall. It included several special-edition Whistlemugs, a ‘Best Brewer in Crack’ plaque that I’d commissioned, and so bits and bobs that’d been brought over from the Thirsty Goat in Minnova.
“Master Stein, I greet you on this most auspicious day,” I said, bowing over closed fists.
“Aye, that it is, assuming everything is up to our exacting standards, young [Brewer].” The curmudgeonly old Master said in dry tones. Then he smiled. “Isn’t it exciting? I cannae believe that I’ve been teaching ignorant apprentices all my Gods-be-damned life, when I coulda been gettin’ fools like you lot to do it for !”
I gave a malicious smile in return. “Ah, but they’ll be payin’ for it!”
“Bah! Give it enough ti and they’ll be runnin’ all of us old brewin’ families out of business,” he snorted.
“Eh, dunno about all of us. So of us are big enough to survive and adapt.” I shrugged.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Hah! So long as we’re big enough.” Stein grinned wickedly. I’d long ago given him so basic lessons in economies of scale. His originally small, local, brewing company was now doing solid business shipping beer to the Eastern Kingdoms. The Western Kingdoms were still a bit insular to our ways, but they would learn.
Joseph would make sure of that.
“The new brewing line is just being tested,” I said, moving around the desk to grab so paperwork. I handed it to Stein and he began reading through it, alternating nodding and grimacing.
“These new ones will be easier to follow?” He asked.
“Aye. We used a lot more reinforced glass and simplified the piping. Should make it simple enough fer students with even the lowest Intelligence.”
“Good!” Stein gave a firm nod. “Yer last setup was too damn complex even fer an old hand like to follow. I like what I see here, can I go and have a looksee?”
“Aye, just head to the brewin’ pumpkin, Johnsson’ll let you in.”
Stein gave a two fingered salute and headed off. I took my ti finishing so last paperwork, then thumped it to the desk with the finality it deserved.
DONE!
I was going to go take a break, and I knew just where to do it.
I exited the admin pumpkin, picked up two of my army guards and Lady Laurelstone, and made my way down the lane. Our little compound was located in the Canopy district of Tree. That put it on the far outskirts, in one of the enclaves mostly inhabited by Crack expats.
I’d thought that the dwarven communities would be largely underground in Root, but there were just way too many to live in the relatively cramped caves, not to ntion the many dwarves that lived in Tree because they liked being above ground!
That included a lot of Southerners, who were almost the majority in this neighbourhood. It was a bit of culture shock, going from Richter being the only dwarf with a complexion darker than ‘Ruddy’, to it being nearly 50/50 black and white.
But culture shock was my bread and butter by this point. In so respects I was uniquely suited for the job of ambassador.
The Brew School compound included a wide space for growing hops and any adjuncts I felt like adding. That included a couple apple and pear trees, and so trellises for grapes. I’d thought about setting up so winemaking equipnt here too, since that was on my nu, but figured I’d leave the winemaking in Cascadia. I didn’t want to advertise it too widely that I was taking a crack at wine.
In the anti, I was going to use the fresh apples and pears to make so cider!
I activated [Long Stride] and picked up the pace. I was headed to my new favourite coffee shop. Even though I still had access to Cascadia, and could always ask for deliveries from my goto coffee places in Kinshasa, it didn’t feel the sa. It’d taken so ti, but there were an abundance of cafes in Tree, and I’d soon found one nearby that I liked.
I wound my way through the busy and complex forest paths, my silent guards shadowing my heels, until I finally reached my place of solace. My fortress of solitude.
A tall rose bush blocked off the view of the inside, its thorns both a threat and a promise. The faint scent of flowers wafted out from the single entrance to the coffee garden, and a sign above the entrance read ‘Briar Rose’.
I’d first picked it because of the na – had I perhaps found another Chosen? One with a love of Sleeping Beauty? – but no, the owner, an elvish matron with a beastkin’s face, just liked roses. She’d carefully cultivated the protected space and filled it with her favourite flowers.
The only rule was silence. This was a place for deep thinkers, silence seekers, and people looking for so space. Coffee was shepherded from table to table by tiny elentals – similar to those we used at the Goat, but made of Matter instead of Aether.
“Hello Ambassador,” The owner said softly as I entered. The wind carried her voice to my ear, leaving dead silence within the cafe. Even the sounds of the busy traffic outside disappeared here, courtesy of her Abilities.
“Hello Adora,” I whispered, my voice being carried back to her twitching green ears. “One of the usual please.”
“Of course, will Lady Laurelstone be having anything?”
“No, she’s on duty.”
“I understand. One large latte with sugar and a millet cheese scone, coming right up.”
“Is Mirelda here?”
“Mhmmmm…,” Adora said, smirking, “in the corner over there.”
I took the chance to look around the cafe and see who was here. Over the past year I’d made a few friends and acquaintances in Tree, many of them in this Cafe. But I was really looking for one in particular.
I spotted her, sitting at a table just out of the way. She was rather petite for a human, only slightly larger and taller than a dwarf, with bushy blonde hair and a light complexion. She wore a loose blouse and floral pattern sarong, and had a pair of oversized red horn rimd glasses. A full cup of tea sat forgotten as her hand moved a pen rapidly across the page of a notebook.
I smiled and headed over. “Hullo, mind if I join you,” I whispered.
The woman looked up with a raised eyebrow. “If I said no, would you sit sowhere else?”
“Hmmm… bbe. bbe not. Would depend on how much invective you threw in there.”
“I’d need to get inventive then. What if I said not bloody likely?”
“Eh, that’s a four on the scale, at most.”
“Of ten?”
“Nah, twenty.”
She laughed quietly. “Fine, sit down Pete.” She sighed as she closed her book. “I had writer’s block anyways.”
So I pulled out a chair and took a seat across the table from Mirelda Noakes, Author and Wordsmith.
Also known as the late Esrelda Brown of England, Chosen of the Goddess Midna.
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