With my rodeo out of the way, the next thing on my ambassadorial agenda was the Awedinand Spring Ball. Said ball involved all the high elven layabouts as well as every whose-who and high-muckity-muck in Tree. It was the biggest event of the year, and I’d just missed it last year.
This year, I was planning on taking it by storm.
It turned out that elves loved the taste of maple syrup, a fact that my own [Discerning Palate] confird. Heck, it was even more delicious than I’d ever found it as a human!
So, it was back to work brewing more cider, but this ti it would be a Cascadian special!
Over the past year I hadn’t been wasting my ti just doing business and politics! I’d been learning so magic as well. My crowning achievent was a variation on my [Gluten to Bacon] spell. It converted a trace amount of water in an aether into carbon dioxide. It was essentially the [Carbonate] Ability, but using pure Mana instead of Godly cheats.
And anyone with the ability to cast magic could learn it! Another revolution in brewing practices! Then there were the [Applefy] and [Grapify] spells, which brought out the natural flavour of said fruits. I was… less sure about those, since ssing with the flavour wasn’t always a net positive. But they did make for delicious eatin’ apples.
For this batch, I’d set aside so apples from the trees in Cascadia dungeon. They were especially crisp due to their inherent Mana, and had a high level of sweetness. They were a nice red apple with a flavour sowhere between that wonderous national Apple of Canada – the McIntosh – and a llow Gala. They’d make for a good high ABV cider, and might have so interesting effects in combination with [Refine Brew].
Add so maple syrup as an adjunct, and it would be a cider never before seen on the face of Erd!
I traced the [Applefy] sigils using my wand, and Mana spun out of to fill the lines, slowly making the correct geotric shapes. I sent it into the basket of apples with a flick of my wrist and they glowed briefly blue.
Then I set to spinning a hand crank while watching apple juice drain into a bucket.
Riveting stuff.
“You sure you don’t need help, Pete?” Bando asked, from where he was sanitizing so of the equipnt.
“No, It’s fine, thanks Bando. I want to do the first few batches myself. Then I’ll get the students at the school to make the rest. It’ll be a good lesson on the NIB system.
“If you say so.”
“You’ll not get out of your cleaning duties that easily.”
Bando chuckled and resud wiping down the tanks.
I watched the golden liquid from the [Applefy]’d apples dribble through the filters into the bucket, then wondered what to do with the pomace. It was technically mana infused pomace, so I couldn’t just toss it any-which-way. I decided to hold onto it and pass it off to Richter, since he’d be best suited for finding where it should go.
As I worked, I mused. So people fell into a blank rhythm when they worked, but my mind tended to wander. It mostly wandered to the Spring Ball. Would everyone like the cider? Would it be enough for the King to finally agree to let into the Winery? And, more importantly, who was I taking? I could show up alone, but it would behoove as ambassador to bring soone along.
I could bring Annie – she was a quick trip away through the teleporter – or Aqua for that matter. But neither of them would really be into the whole ‘fancy dress-up party.’
Okay, Aqua would be, but there was a high chance that she’d cause an international incident.
Tourmaline was an option. She was certainly rarefied enough to handle the atmosphere, and I’d be the envy of every dwarf in there with her platinum curls on my arm. But… she really didn’t like high society. If anything, it made her halfway miserable. She much preferred coming to the Thirsty Goat in her guise as Wreck.
Any of Team Brighstar would probably do, as both Starshine and Aishablue were respectable and well put together. Raysdotter… not so much. But Starshine was well-known within her own circles and was the daughter of the captain of the Minnova guard.
I looked over the carboy with my [Arcane Crafter’s Eye]. No telltale red of mistakes, just a nice llow green and blue glow from the mana in the apples. I dribbled so onto my refractoter and did calculations, then activated [Rapid Aging] and watched with fascination as the liquid bubbled and popped while the lees crusted the top nearly instantly – that never got old.
“What do you think, Bando?” I asked, as I started cleaning up and setting up the auto-siphon.
“About what, boss?”
“Who should I take to the Spring Ball?”
He considered it for a mont, then tried, “Sobody you be likin’?”
“If it was that easy I wouldn’t be askin’.”
“We could use a proper beard tyin’ of the Goldstone and Herder clans. bbe one of their young dwarfesses?”
That was quite astute! “Hmm… a thought. But I’m not too interested in a political marriage.’
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“bbe ask Miss Annie to see yer love letters?”
I stopped what I was doing and stared.
“My… what?”
“Uh. Nothin.” Bando grabbed his cleaning tools and started to book it. I grabbed him by his long braids before he made it out of the brewroom.
I smiled, jovially. “You know Bando, I’m impressed by how much you’ve improved over the past year. You’re an exemplary employee, you have good ideas, and you’re a hard worker.”
He was trembling. “Why, thankee.”
“But you’re still a terrible liar. Talk.”
“Miss-annie’s-been-stopping-any-mail-that-she-thinks-is-from-suitors-or-people-just-tryin-to-scam-you! She-didn’t-an-nothin-bout-it-and-they-just-keep-comin’!”
He went on for a while, rapidfire, but I got the gist of it. So ti last year, letters had started to arrive postmarked for . As head of the clan, Annie had been receiving it all, and she’d been specifically waylaying any solicitation.
The only reason Bando knew was because over the year I’d been in Tree, the amount of mail coming in from all around Crack had nearly quintupled. It’d gotten to the point that the letters were now becoming an actual space issue, as Annie was still forced to look at all of them before passing them on.
“I… didn’t ask her to do that.” I muttered. “She only ever gave fan letters. That’s… kinda an invasion of privacy.”
“Annie said that you were too durn kind, and you’d try ta answer all of ‘em. Or that they’d be affectin’ you. She said that Berry ntioned it would be a good idea. Annie gets real mad when she reads so of ‘em. Yelling, even.”
“Oh. Uh. That bad?”
Bando dropped to a whisper. “She sent the Guard after so of ‘em.”
I rubbed the back of my head. Bando was starting to calm down as he realized I wasn’t going to shave his beard or anything. “I’ll… have to talk to her,” I muttered. “She shouldn’t be wasting her ti on that. Ach, Gods, I probably need a Titled [Butler] of my own. I’ll add it to my massive to-do list. And she should’ve asked first.”
“A [Butler] would help with tha to-do list, sure nuff, Pete.” Bando nodded. “And why do you care so much about bringin’ soone to the Ball?”
“Mmm… it’s just one of those things. Yer expected to bring a plus one.”
“Well, good luck. If I had the answer to findin’ a dwarfess to tie beards with, I’d be usin’ it self.” He gave another nod and then scurried away.
I sighed and went back to work, checking the specific gravity with my Hydroter. Comparing it with my earlier refractoter readings, the cider was perfectly dry, with an ABV of about 8%. That was on the high end for a cider, but not unreasonably so.
It was with anticipation that I then poured in the maple syrup. It flooded the brewroom with the heady scent of maples and sugar, a side effect of its magical nature. It flowed thick as molasses into the funnel before mixing into the cider. It had a coppery colour in my [Lesser Crafter’s Eye], and the mana in it mixed with the erald of the cider to create a whirlpool of verdigris. It looked magical. Nyuck! I let it settle, before gently stirring, trying not to disturb the lees too much. Then it was ti to rack. I set to work using the autosiphon to pump the now dark brown cider into the NIB.
I considered the ‘who to bring to the ball problem’ so more. If most of my dwarven family were out, did I know anybody in Tree? I could bring Lady Laurelstone, but she had the day off to fulfil her own familial obligations. One of my brewing students? Ick.
Hmm… what about Mirelda? She had an almost unhealthy fascination with royalty, and loved writing about them. This could be an opportunity for her to learn more about royal culture on Erd, which might spark her ‘writing spirit’ or whatever writers called it.
She was quick witted, well spoken, and if her ti in the school was any indication, got along with others. She also looked pretty nice, for a human.
It was worth a thought…
The magical machinery dinged, breaking my reverie, and I ran over to grab the flat of bottles and put them on the table. It was ti for the final steps! I quickly spun up the sigil for my [Carbonate] spell, then bent down to watch as the blue mana infused into the liquid.
“[Refine Brew]. [Sense Poison].” I mumbled. I stared as the copper, green, and blue Manas mixed together and flashed, landing on a faint dark apple green. It looked almost exactly like so kind of stamina potion from a video ga.
*Bing!*
Ability Used: Sense Poison
Not Poisonous
I whistled for Penelope, and she ca trotting out of the office bleary eyed a mont later. She snuffled the air and then chuffed excitedly.
I poured a half-bottle into her goat bowl as she butted excitedly at my ankles. “Aye, that’s right. I got a new drink for you, Pen.”
She buried her head in the bowl, lapping at it excitedly. She didn’t even stop to breathe, downing it in big hungry gulps. When she was done, she gave a happy bleat and nudged the bowl, asking for more. No farting, red rage, or any other discernible magical effects, even after a few minutes passed.
With trembling hands I flipped the lightning stopper on my own bottle and took a swig. The cider went down smooth, not too dry, and not too sweet. It had llow notes of maple, with an almost overpowering taste of apple. The mouthfeel was perfect, with a delightful fizz that lent it an sowhat airy body, like a really light champagne. The sweetness unbalanced the taste just a smidge, making it a too cloying for my taste. But it wasn’t my taste that mattered. I swapped [Discerning Palate] to my usual elven test subject before bringing the bottle to my lips.
*Bing!*
Discerning Palate: Juniper Swallowtail
Maker: Peter Roughtuff
Origin: Cascadia
Ingredients: Cascadia Apples, Maple Syrup
I took one sip, then another, then grinned, wolflike. It was perfect. A symphony of flavours and sweetness. This was going to be a hit!
I swapped bottles and tried the cider with Applefy cast on it. It had a strong aftertaste of apple, like a green apple soda. Not bad, not bad.
I looked down at Penelope, who was even now snuffling at the bottles, trying to get more.
“No more for you, Princess.” I chuckled, ruffling her fur. “Or Richter will yell at again for overfeeding you.”
My chuckle died on my lips. As my fingers parted her fur, her revealed skin was a deep, dark, erald shade of green.
Penelope gave so side eye. *eehhh* [Translated From Primma Donna Goat] “Why dost though turn from servant?”
Oh Gods. What about !? I ran to look at myself in the reflective tal of a fernter. What stared back was a big red-brown beard and bushy brown eyebrows on a terrified, handso, green, face.
Shit. Was it permanent?
Maybe… the elves wouldn’t notice?
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