Chapter 46: All In

Chapter 46: All In

I said my goodbyes to Thatch, who merrily went up into the stands to sit with his wife and son. He didn’t care in the slightest that he’d been the last to finish at our table.

“Guid lachk thar Pete.”

“Thanks Thatch, hope you enjoy the rest of the show.”

“Dontcha warry, ay will.”

And so the top one-hundred drinkers in Minnova went on to the next round. The staff came out and moved tables around as a grumble of dwarves moseyed around the Lord. All the royals, schmoozing up there while us poor bastards were boozing down here. Thankfully, a bunch of them were moving up to the bookies and handing over large sacks of cash to place their bets. It was time for the big money to hit the table now that the top hundred were chosen.

Speaking of royalty, I hummed a little “Smooth Criminal” while I waited at the sidelines. Based on how that first round had gone, this wasindeed practically stealing. I sent a silent thank you to those lords and ladies up there for their generous donations to the “Get Pete on Brew Duty” fund. Hopefully not too many of them bet on me. Speaking of which, I should have toned down that first round... I’d slow down a bit for round two.

The next round went fairly similarly to the first. A hundred tables were reduced down to twenty five and four competitors were invited to sit down at each one. The drinks were brought out and the same spiel was made. This time the Lord himself, not Jesus though, held up his hand and dropped it. Everyone else was so enthralled with watching nobility announce the start that they almost missed it. I did mess up a bit and almost choked when the dwarfess sitting across from me actually swooned when the Lord flashed us a smile. Thankfully, I kept it down and managed an easy three second drink. The other dwarf at my table who moved on to the next round was named Jim.

Jim didn’t talk much.

I turned to wave at Balin up in the nosebleed section, and he was surprisingly easy to pick out of the now growing crowd.

Because of the massive sign that said: “Go Pete!”

I could juuust make out splotches of blue and blonde on opposite ends of the sign.

Shit. We’d been made.

—

“You’re sure they’re up to something?” Annie asked. “I want you to know that I trust Balin unequivocally.” Her voice was steadfast, with nary a quaver of doubt.

“I can understand that.” Aqua nodded, as the two of them shadowed the pair of well-dressed dwarves just ahead. “But Pete’s been super suspicious the past couple days. You must have noticed Balin was talking nearly a whole octave higher all morning.”

Annie sighed the adoring sigh of a fiancé. “Yes, I did notice. He’s a darling, and completely incapable of hiding anything from me.”

“Well, Pete is more than capable of hiding lots.” Aqua shrugged, and paused to peek around a corner as Pete and Balin continued down the main thoroughfare, completely unaware of their shadows.

“What makes you say that?” Annie raised an eyebrow.

“It’s simple!” Aqua waved Annie on and the two ducked behind a stall before they slowly slunk up the street. “Everyone has things they want to hide, and little white lies they tell everyone every day. That’s just a fact!"

She began to list examples on her fingers as they waited for Pete and Balin to stop staring at an extremely fancy gnomish contraption that created roadside sugar sticks.

“The dinner is delicious. That dress looks good on you. Of course, we’re best friends. I’ll be home on time. I’ll always love you.”

“Ow.” Annie winced a bit at the last one. “You can tell when people lie about that? That feels more like a curse than a Blessing.”

“You learn to live with it.” Aqua shrugged. “Culturally speaking, we're pretty good with being blunt most of the time. If you hate something Balin is wearing, would you just tell him?”

“Absolutely. I want him to look as good as I think he looks!”

“See? I don’t run into trouble with most of our kinsmen, because they usually tell me straight. The lies are still there, but they’re small.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“We’re also partial to throwing punches when the honesty is a bit too straight.”

“So? That’s good too!”

“If you like a good scrap Annie, but not everyone does!” The two of them ducked behind a cart as Balin glanced in their direction. “The people I trust the least are those that don’t tell any lies at all.” A few dwarves gave them curious looks, and Aqua shooed them away.

“What?” Annie said, confused. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would the most honest people be the most suspicious?”

“Because they’re weasel wording around my Blessing, which means they’re trying to keep a secret. The less lies they tell, the bigger the secret. Pete never lies. He’s hiding something big and I want to find out what it is!”

Annie chewed her lip. “Do you think it’s a threat to the brewery? Should I just ask Balin?”

“I don’t know. It might cause a rift, given how close those two are. That’s why we’re doing this. That’s odd...”

Annie reached into her pocket and jiggled her coin purse. She had all the money for next month’s bills in there; over ten mithril. Between the interest to the bank for the cost of the walls, the bad beer, and general operations, it would last a month or two at most. She needed at least three months to convince some of the old hires to come back and start up a plan to get people buying their beer again. She was positive she could do it.

She just needed time.

Trust, and time. She made her decision as they were called up to make their bets.

“Give me the gold Balin.”

“Annie, we –” Balin began to protest.

Annie pulled out her coinpurse and thumped it on the counter. “Let’s add it to the pile. We’re screwed either way, so let’s put our hope on Pete. Top ten, right? Aqua, go get a roll of paper. I’ll go get some paint. Balin, go get some seats. We have some cheering to do!”

—

I sweated a bit as Aqua and Annie waved from the stands. We were going to get such a talking to.

I was currently seated with four other dwarves, waiting for the next round to start. The tables had been set up for the final fifty, which meant ten tables of five. The fastest from each table would go on to the top ten.

A dwarf seated at the table beside mine chuckled, a deep bass *ho ho ho* that brought immediate thoughts of Santa to my mind. He was also built like Santa, with a white beard and jolly red nose. I would describe his figure as... rotund; he was practically a sphere! “Yer a bit distracted!”

“Just a bit.” I pointed up at the sign.

*ho ho ho* “It’s nice ta be loved, isn’t it!” He pointed at a small clan of dwarves that were doing the flippy sign thing that happens occasionally at football games. A series of wooden panels were flipped between red and black to make moving images. They eventually settled on ‘Rum Tum Rumbob’.

“That it does. Are you Rumbob?”

“Aye, that I am. Nice to meet you. They’re here ta see me win this!”

I held out my hand for a companionable shake. “I’m Pete. I’m here ta win this too!”

Indeed, the competition was actually serious now. I could see people going through meditation routines, stretches, and various superstitious rituals. This was a real gathering of weirdos, for sure. It made sense though. Drinking competitions weren’t really a thing, so any fast and big drinker was going to be a bit different compared to your average dwarf. If you’ve ever met a Guiness Record holder, they’re often a bit weird. “The most hot dogs in one minute” is not something a fully sane person is willing to attempt.

Beside me, Rumbob began burping a song, and across from me a dwarf that had introduced herself as ‘Gemgem’ began hyperventilating with an extreme look of concentration.

A real collection of weirdos; I was probably the only normal dwarf here.

I took another bite of my butter.

—

The next while was a blur of activity as the hosts came and delivered their amber payload, and the competitors squared off. Then the Lord killed the mood with a long reverential speech. “The city appreciates”, “Generations will remember” and other such nonsense. None of that mattered as much as the moment and the malt. I peeked a glance at Rumbob and we nodded at each other. I could see Beatbox was still in, and Jim looked as bored as ever. This was the moment of truth.

I’d asked a host about the odds on me making it to the top ten, and it was two to one. I thought it was high for just top ten, but apparently some of the dwarves in this competition were nobility; other nobles were betting a lot on them for the sake of solidarity. If I won we’d go home with over twenty gold. It would be enough to help, but I doubted it would be enough to save the brewery; I’d still need to get first place.

The Lord raised his hand and my attention snapped towards him. I took a deep breath out and opened my mouth wide. A half beat later, he dropped his hand and I poured the tankard directly down my throat.

*bing*

Quest Complete: Championship Road Part 1/2

You’ve got the fastest throat in the west!

Reward: +0.1 Vitality

Championship Road Part 2/2

You are on the road to become the greatest drinker in the city of Minnova. Prove yourself!

Requirement: Enter the top 3

Reward: [ Adjust Taste ]

Do you accept this quest?

Yes/No

Hell yeah!