Beers and Beards

Book 3: Chapter 40: Dwarven Influencer

It’d been two weeks since we tried the first batch of gose, and with only one month left till the end of the quarter-finals, it was finally time.

The places were set. The kitchen was ready. The goat was pampered.

“Tha dang line is gettin’ bigger!” Bando shrieked.

“What ‘ave we done.” Johnsson whimpered.

“What do ya mean we, this was your grand plan!” I shouted, adding my weight to the door.

A dozen fists continued to beat a staccato rhythm against it, and I was horribly glad that we'd taken Sam’s advice and gotten the doors and windows reinforced a few days ago.

Johnsson, the coward, was hiding behind the bar. “I didn’t know it’d be like this!”

“You know, considering what happened ‘de last few times, we really should have suspected.” Richter mused from where he was bracing the door beside me.

“Calm down, this is a good sign!” Annie said, cheerfully. She was standing beside the waiter’s kiosk with Aqua, holding some menus. “This just means that the advertising worked! And since you were the one that taught us the concept, Pete, this is indeed entirely your fault.

“I can live with that.” Johnsson said.

“Oh, COME ON!”

Aqua looked thoughtful. “Does this mean that the rest of the contest is in the minecart? If it worked so well this time, can’t we just do it again?”

I pursed my lips. “Ehhhh, I’m not sure there’ll be a next time. Johnsson played a bit of silly buggers with that demonstration permit from City Hall. I expect we’ll ‘ave someone come by soon ta tell us not to do it again.”

IT, being a now infamous stunt by Dwarf Draconis overtop the Grand Market, all set to a Copperpot designed lightshow to catch attention. The luchadorf had then stood atop Whistlemop’s ostentatious cart to declare, “Thirsty Goat’s Kinshasa Brew gives you wings.” Then he’d performed a flaming lariat into an explosive effigy of a Whistlemug.

Heh. Okay, maybe it was a little bit my fault. But it was Johnsson’s idea first!

Still, I hadn’t expected this!

The line on our opening night had been pretty bad, but the street outside tonight was packed. We weren’t going to be able to fit everyone in, and there was definitely going to be some fighting at the door. At least Bran and company had been pre-preparing food all day, so we’d be unlikely to run out of his horribly named competition entry.

I wished Balin was here, but last we’d heard from the Adventuring Guild they’d been seen descending some bottomless hole called the Black Escarpment. That put them anywhere from a few days to a week from the next Teleportation Circle.

I sent another silent little prayer for Barck to send some luck Balin’s way, then checked the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time.

“Sixteen seconds!” I shouted. “Kirk, get in tossin’ position, any dwarf that comes in swinging goes back out over everyone’s head!

“Aye aye, bossman!”

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

*Meeeehhh!!*

“Two!”

“ONE!”

Richter threw the lock and the two of us jumped aside as the door burst open and the thirsty dwarves of Kinshasa barreled into the Thirsty Goat. The first three through the door came in swinging, and were promptly met by a different thirsty goat, and a giant with a large paycheque and good benefits.

—

The tavern was chaotic enough to make the God of Chaos Aaron blush. At least, it was until Darrel’s elementals moved into position as air support. Any serious infractions got a double dose of high pressure water, and a toss out the door. Watching the sopping wet ne'er-do-wells go sailing into the street I was reminded that the first thing I’d been told about the wispy little elementals was that they were dangerous. Considering that Aether elementals could also shoot fire, the implied threat was quite clear.

Rather than Berry, we’d acquired the services of some of Dwarf Draconis’s flaming bagpipe musicians for tonight’s festivities. It seemed appropriate, and really drove home that he supported us. The bards were currently playing a wordless ditty that involved a lot of high pitched wailing on the pipes that were echoed back by various drunks in the crowd.

I was currently on [Spot Clean] and busboy duty, and would be for the rest of the night. I gave a big grin and thumbs up to Annie as we met at the bar while heading back to the kitchen with dishes.

“Did you hear?” She asked, her eyes glittering.

I nodded. “Yes, I do, in fact, have ears! Used to, too!”

“Ugh. They love it!!! Not just the gose, but the new Goldstone Bitters too! Some are declaring it the second coming of the Sacred Brew!”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Congratulations!” I went to give her a fist bump, but she swept me up in a hug instead, then spun me around like a princess in some bloody children’s movie. “Awp!”

“Thank you so much, Pete!” Annie laughed. “This is incredible!”

“Hey, let me down!” I struggled to get free, but her Strength was still higher than mine. “Down!”

“I could hug you forever!!”

”Fine, you’ve left me with no choice! OY EVERYONE! LISTEN UP!!!”

Annie stopped swinging me about. “No! Don’t you dare!”

I pulled free from her grasp and hopped onto the bar, grabbing a nearby mug as I did so. I held it aloft, and when I had enough eyes on me I shouted, “FER CRACK AND ANNIE!”

The room practically rocked. “FER CRACK AND ANNIE!”

Annie’s angry retort was lost in the din. I gave her murderous glare a twinkling smile in return, then jumped onto the packed crowd and surfed away while saluting.

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Yes indeed, it was a glorious night.

The pong tables in the courtyard were surrounded by drunken fans, and we’d even set up some chess boards for Tablero and large log rounds for Axeschlaggen. Between all the not Sacred Brew being drunk, the drinking games, and the delicious treats that were variously being eaten or turned into projectiles, the influence I’d had on dwarven culture was now unmistakable.

Pandora’s box had been opened. Even if something happened to me tomorrow, Gods forbid, beer would never be the same. The culture around drinking had changed, and nothing the Master Brewers could do would be able to stop it.

I surfed to the far edge of the crowd and dropped down to pick up some plates. Someone, or a few someones, had left some dirty plates, and I gave the mess a once-over with [Spot Clean] before gathering up the empty dishes and heading back to the kitchen.

And then it happened.

*Bing!*

Quest Complete: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10

Do you believe in magic?

Gained [Pete’s Poor Manasight]

*Bing!*

New Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 8/10

The dwarves need your help. Influence 2,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.

Dwarves Influenced: 156/2,000,000

Rewards: 1 x Deific Revelation

Do you accept?

Yes / No

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I’d been waiting so long for that bloody quest that it felt unreal to finally see it complete. I barely even registered hitting ‘yes’ as I popped open my status, my breath catching in my throat. Did I…

Status: Provided by the Firmament

Name: Peter Roughtuff

Age: 51

Conditions: None

Race: Dwarf

Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [Flash of Insight x 2], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]

Title: [Otherworldly Brewer]

Milestones: [Power Pick], [Basic Slash], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Extended Bottomless Barrel], [Thick Skin], [Friend: Gnomes], [Pete’s Miniature Remembrance], [Check Quality], [Long Stride], [Infuse Mana], [Spot Clean], [Pete’s Poor Manasight], [Rapid Aging]

Strength: 17.8

Vitality: 21

Agility: 14.2

Dexterity: 14.4

Wisdom: 15.4

Intelligence: 17.4

Perception: 18.4

Charisma: 19

I did.

I had [Manasight].

Or at least some [Poor] facsimile of it.

It was what I’d wanted most since arriving in this world. Ever since I’d first watched adventurers take down a mushfolk from afar with bursts of light, and smelled whatserame barbequing an entire army of ants by herself. I’d been pining after it for nearly three years, and now I finally had it!!!

I popped the Ability open and read it over.

[Pete’s Poor Manasight] - You gain the ability to see the mana flow in yourself as well as anything else within 1 metre. This Ability is always available and can be turned on and off at will.

With a trembling heart, I whispered, “[Pete’s Poor Manasight],” and looked around.

The world… didn’t look any different. It was still just a raucous room of rowdy revelers. I balanced the dishes on an arm and glanced at my hand; it looked the same as usual too – thick and calloused and overly hairy.

At least, it did until I focused. It was almost like cleaning off a windshield; an entire new world suddenly popped into view. My skin glowed with an inner, unerdly light. I couldn’t help but hold my hand up and flex the fingers, staring at it in fascination. My Mana was the colour of freshly mowed grass, bright and clear.

I glanced down at the plates. They had a murky and more solid feel to their Mana, like it was set in place and didn’t want to move. Then I spun to look in fascination at the air around me, which was now a sphere of swirling white and blue.

The room and din fell away as I marveled at the sight.

“Pete, if you’re drunk I’m going to put a stray cat in your bunk tonight.” Aqua was suddenly at my side, shouting to be heard over the din, and I jumped.

“Oh, uh.” I looked back at my hand, but the glow was gone. “Sorry. I know what it looks like, but I haven’t been drinking. My quest just completed.”

Aqua’s eyes grew wide. “You mean the – “

I nodded.

“You have – !?”

My lower lip trembled and I raised a joyful fist. “I can do magic!”

“Congratulations! Then what are you still doing here!?” Aqua said, thumping me on the chestplate.

I blinked. “What??”

“Go and test it out! I know you’ve been learning a sigil with Richter! Go see what you can do!”

“Are – are you sure??” I asked, looking around the madhouse. There was still a line out the door, so this was probably going to last until the wee hours of the morning. We’d keep it going as long as possible since this opening night would be our best bet for getting lots of votes for the contest.

“We can handle it.” Aqua said, with more confidence than she probably felt. “Worst case scenario I’ll go and yank Whistlemop out of bed, and Rosie can always step away from running the inn for a while if we need her. Go!” She snapped a cleaning towel at me.

My face flushed, and I handed her my own apron and towel. “Thanks Aqua, I won't forget this.”

“You’d better not!” She shouted after me as I dashed to the brewroom.

I.

Had.

MAGIC!

HELL YEAH!!!