Chapter 17-451: Family

Name:The Power of Ten Author:RE Druin
I was almost thrown out of the kitchen until I swore that I would be allowed to make mashed potatoes, or everyone here would suffer...

I got to make up some QL 32 taters, critique the gravies that would be going on the buckets and buckets of them (Sama made sure she was on top of those, just to save face for the other ladies), and, well, they were QL 32 mashed potatoes. They melted on the tongue and kind of evaporated off the tables, as did all the gravy.

The Morningsuns didn’t have this kind of tradition, but were certainly happy to enjoy it since I was coming here, and naturally The Mick and Amaretta had shown up to celebrate with her family. The Blooded eldest daughter of the whole Clan was naturally grilled mercilessly by all her sisters and cousins and nieces, which you accumulate quite a lot of over seventy years. Non-human clans live a long time, save for the urukhar... and if they are Powered or Forsaken, they live even longer.

Shiv was getting mercilessly teased by all her sisters, too. She was naturally working among the Scouts attached to the family’s efforts in Russia, and perhaps unsurprisingly had found herself working closely on more than one occasion with one of the new Void Brothers, a Firesword by name of William Blake... who I was politely ignoring noticing had drawn a lethal cordon around the Blakhamar celebration with his Brothers and the Senior St. Paul Citybound, Quiffio. The city had noticed the outsiders coming in with bad intentions, sent the information over, and welp, not a good idea messing with a family this well-connected and so high Level.

There was a special dinner being set up for all of the Brothers later for their help. Lots of very good pies were involved.

Shiv being in a relationship was definitely an Event, and the young women were heaping advice upon her, making her cheeks very red as they did so. Of course, none of them had managed to land a Void Brother, so she had all sorts of bragging rights on them.

If she was suddenly able to hold her conversational ground with her siblings, well, the +5 Inherent bonus to Charisma I’d Wished her way was totally whimsical and in the genie tradition.

All in all, it was a nice pleasant day, where the shop-talking was of the irreverent and funny kind, as all the grim stuff got done in Markspace. The men were complete doofuses, and were roaring out some of the deepest and most thundering choruses of drinking songs you ever heard... except Briggs.

A couple of the Blakhamars hadn’t believed the rumors, and egged him into Singing for them some time back. The horrified stories they retold and the way they very urgently and seriously shut up anyone asking such things of Briggs went a very long ways towards making sure that didn’t happen, to everyone’s sincere benefit.

Daring singing contests seemed to be a family thing, where the women started singing immaculately harmonized lyrics that were at total odds with the content thereof, and throwing them back at the men, daring them to not break down laughing.

The Morningsuns were totally willing to contribute to this contest with some Irish, French, and Italian originals, too. A little translation magic into Human, and the after-dinner really got swinging.

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To everyone’s delight, The Mick stood up as the evening was drawing to a close, and with a startlingly good tenor, gave them all the first rendition of The Drinking Game, which was a popular boozing song back on Terra-Luna, but had never been heard here before, supplied by yours truly for this occasion.

Well, The Mick’s rendition of it meant it was going to be heard in a lot of places rather soon.

I went away to school, and roomed me with a fool,

A Hayseed plowboy from down on the farm.

He was my go-to punk when it was time to get drunk,

With a beer and a babe in arm.

He could drink like a fish, and more important, he always paid his bill,

A fine upstanding young drinking man, when it was time to swill.

The bills were paid, and we’d prove our mettle,

By the dares we’d trade, and boasts we’d settle.

Sometimes he’d pick me off the floor,

Others I’d peel him off the wall,

And we’d try to make it through the door

After stumbling down the hall.

Good gods that was some drinking,

Lord, we’d laugh until we cried,

We argued, bet, and at the last

Agreed the score was tied.

We went up and down the river, and bounced quarters ‘til the dawn.

The liquor foamed, it flushed and flowed,

It went on and on and on.

We never drank that way before, and we never will again,

The score was tied, the games were done,

and that’s how it was gonna end.

Ten years go by, and I’m out in the sticks, and stop at ol’ Hayseed’s place.

He was happy to see me and had some plans, by the look upon his face.

He brought out the homemade whiskey, and showed me the homemade beer,

We got feeling fine on dandelion wine; by then I couldn’t see too clear.

Good Lord, that was some drinking; Good Lord, I nearly died,

By the time the hard cider passed on down, the score was no longer tied.

We went up and down the river, and bounced quarters ‘til the dawn.

The liquor gurgled, it gushed and glowed,

It went on and on and on.

We never drank that way before, and we never will again,

But the game was on, he was one up on me,

and that’s not how it was gonna end.

For five long years I waited, and planned my dark revenge,

Hayseed came to the big town to visit me, and I smiled to see him again.

I waved away to the booze on display, and I could smell his sudden fear,

As I brought out the Hakkaisen Sake, and the Westvletern Beer.

The ouzo from Lesvos, the cachaca from Brazil,

The Don Julio tequila, oh my Lord, we done drank our fill.

We bounced our lot of fifty-quid shots

of Lendores Scotch from 1922,

And he gave up when I prepped our cups

Of glittering Moutai baiju.

Good Lord, that was some drinking. Good Lord, he nearly died.

But over brandy and cigars the morning rise, we knew that the score was tied.

We went up and down the river, and bounced quarters ‘til the dawn.

The liquor burbled, blushed, and shone,

It went on and on and on!

We never drank that way before, and we never will again,

The score was even, the games were done, and that’s how it was gonna end.

Now Hayseed and I still get together, and clink our nobs to toast,

As punks talk smack behind our backs, and think that they can boast.

We down the seltzer water, and don’t need to be driven home,

Any drink that passes our lips these days is fine and well alone.

But those days were bold and fun, a highlight of our youth,

Shining bright in hazy memory, a fool’s quest for some liquored truth.

Good Lord, that was some drinking. Good Lord, we nearly died.

Fool’s damn games for fools to play, and, Good Lord, we tried.

We went up and down the river, and bounced quarters ‘til the dawn.

The liquor, it beckoned with a devil’s light,

It went on and on and on!

We never drank that way before, and we never will again,

We forgot the score, the game was done, and that’s how it came to end.”

The Blakhamars and everyone roared as he finished, bowing smugly as he did. There were a LOT of Bard and Minstrel types in attendance, all of them clamoring for the proper words and notes and where he had gotten that and whatnot.

It went without saying that leaving off the last stanza really made it a drinking song, and soon enough that Song was being heard on multiple continents as fighting men kicked back with booze in hand and belted it out in simple verse.

The fact a lot of variations of booze could be warped around to fit into the song was lost on nobody, but The Mick also got the first recording of it to see airplay and publication... in the metal records that would be carrying songs going forwards, as vinyl wasn’t going to survive the Shroud’s death, unless you could afford a magical recording, which cost gold.

It also spurred more interest in the native booze of more countries, which was always a nice boost to international trade, devil’s drink or no.

I noted Shvaughn, who had come along for this shindig after careful and considerate invitation from Patriarch Hank, was leaving with a certain large purple-skinned ogryn thrown over her shoulder and an expectant smile upon her face. I just shook my head and laughed and reflected that Mohono Blakhamar wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight, and had definitely found a woman strong enough to put up with him.