Book 2: Chapter 2: Resume Duties

Book 2: Chapter 2: Resume Duties

“Thank you so much, Mr. Roughtuff! Something like this shouldn’t cause any problems. It’s only of sentimental value, really. A lovely little loophole.” Silverpen clutched his prize tightly.

I smiled back. Poor naive egghead. That autograph from the gnomish pro-drinker Beatbox was probably going to be worth significantly more than a single gold piece sometime down the line. They were still free while it drove traffic to the Thirsty Goat Brewpub, but we were going to start charging for them eventually. The autograph in question was also one of the numbered ones - #1 in fact, and dated to the day of the competition. I’d gotten one from each of the pro-drinking crowd who’d come to the afterparty. Namely Chuck, Tania, Rumbob, Beatbox and whatshisface... John?

No, Jim. That was it.

“I’m glad I was able to repay you properly. Feel free to come by the brewpub any time for some drinks. Beatbox is usually in here on Solday and Miday.”

I was pretty sure that was right. It had taken a surprisingly long time for me to make the mental switch to naming the days of the week in Erd after the Erdian Gods instead of the Norse Gods like back on Earth. Solday was... the middle of the week, and Miday was the Erdian equivalent of a Saturday.

“I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy for at least the next month with audits. Thank you for the information though.” Silverpen held out his fist and we bumped knuckles in a traditional dwarven farewell.

I walked him out into the lushly appointed foyer of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub. The room was well furnished with wooden walls and rafters and plush green carpet. Some fairly standard solstone lamps gave a bright, cheery yellow glow to everything. The Brewpub had spent the first five or six thousand years of its life as a brewery run by the Goldstone family, which was why the walls were adorned with ancient Goldstone family paraphernalia alongside newer racks of gleaming bottles and Ass-Blaster swag.

Johnsson looked over at us from where he was manning - dwarfing the counter. Casks lined the wall behind him, though most of them were empty; business was good. Johnsson’s blonde beard was done up in braids with bows today and his outfit had actual rhinestones in it. John’s son had the most fabulous wardrobe, and I still needed to schedule a date with him for clothes shopping.

“Hey Pete.” he waved.

“Hey Johnsson, where’s Aqua? Shouldn’t she be dwarfin’ tha front?”

“Nah, she had ta leave early. Somethin’ up with her pappy.”

“You know, I still haven’t met Tom.” I grumbled, “Wasn’t he supposed to be helping with the taxes around here? Honestly, I’m not even sure he really exists.”

“What!? You’ve seen him at brewing time haven’t you?”

“I have... but we’ve never spoken, and every time I try to meet him Annie changes the subject or distracts me.”

“Ah,” Johnsson’s eyes flicked up slightly to the left, “He’s often busy with things. Ask Aqua?”

A lie, for some reason. I added that little mystery to my long list of chores.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter. We’re done doing the taxes now, Silverpen was just leaving.”

Silverpen nodded graciously, “Indeed. Thank you for your hospitality Johnsson, those meals you brought us were divine!”

Johnsson waved the praise away, “I just brought the food, Bran’s the one you’ll want to thank.”

“Nonsense! Every second of work is valuable, no matter how inconsequential. That’s what makes the machine move! You’re a hard worker and a credit to your clan, young dwarf.”

Johnsson blushed. “Well then, thank you sir.”

We finished off our goodbyes and Silverpen absconded, but only after promising to see me again next year. Uggghhh.

I leaned on the counter and buried my head in my hands. Finally done!

Johnsson came alongside and patted my back, “Congratulations on finishing yer audit, Pete!”

“Thanks Johnsson. Where’s Annie?”

“She actually told me to tell you to meet her in the brewpub when yer done.”

“Oh? Don’t we open soon?”

“Aye, but she’s got the first round of names ready.”

“Huzzah!”

—

The Thirsty Goat Brewpub hadn’t changed too much since our grand opening. A tall room with a wooden ceiling and an enormous painting of a white goat on one of the cherry brick walls. The caprid was drinking from a tankard, and was obviously drunk.

Booths lined the walls, and a series of four-dwarf picnic tables took up most of the floorspace. A large wooden bar took up one whole corner, with a kitchen space behind it. A framed painting of Penelope sat behind the bar next to the transom window into the kitchen, along with a mishmash of paintings depicting pro-drinkers and local landscapes.

“Yes, I noticed it right away. She used at least one Ability to make it, probably more.”

The resume was for a dwarfess by the name of Pazmin Gemsdotter. Her work experience included several decades as a librarian at one of the local libraries. Pazmin was a Titled [Psychometer], and could talk to inanimate manufactured objects. The only reason I knew that was because I’d been involved with one through Whistlemop. That seemed like a really neat Ability for a librarian! Imagine asking a book what it contained, or being able to walk through the stacks and asking the books directly ‘Is anybody in the wrong shelf?’

I paused as I read her name again, it seemed familiar, “Wait... I think I recognize this name. Pazmin... Pazmin... yeah, she’s a librarian at the branch Richter and I usually go to!”

“Really?” Annie leaned over to look at the page.

“Aye, she and Uric threw us out of the library during the beer-bottle incident!”

“Was that anything like the noodle incident?”

“You remember that? No.”

“Sometimes Bran mutters dark things about pruno - “

“We DON’T talk about pruno.” I interrupted, “It was when Richter, Aqua, and Balin pranked me by pretending to go crazy over the bottle-conditioned beer.”

“Ah yes.” Annie smiled and then her gaze grew cloudy. Right, that day had not been very kind to the Goldstone clan, given how Annie’s father had betrayed her for the Brewer’s Guild. Time to change the subject.

“She isn’t very sociable though. She’s a competent librarian, and talking to the dishes is kind of neat, but I don’t think she’d be a good fit for the front of house.”

“Denied then?”

I nodded, “Who’s next?”

Annie grinned. “Read this one next. His name is Jack Thornsson”

She passed me another sheet. It was crinkly and had terrible hand-writing, but it was extremely exciting. Literally.

“He used the word desperate and excited at least two dozen times. And did he capitalize every other word in here? ”

“Just the important ones!”

“What style of writing is this? I can barely read it and I have an Ability that helps me with languages.”

“It’s a more traditional form of runic. They still use it in the backcountry.”

“What’s a ‘goatboy’? I have no cultural context. Is there a goatman too? Do they fight crime?”

“What? It’s like a goatherd, except while the goatherd simply herds goats, a goatboy speaks to them directly.”

“Wait, so does his [Therian] Title mean– !?”

“That’s right!” Annie grinned. “He can talk to goats, and take on some of their aspects!”

“Hey, neat! So are we going with him? It seems like a perfect fit for the Thirsty Goat to have an actual *heh* goatboy - wow what a word - as our head waiter.”

“We can invite him in for an interview, but I’m a bit leery of his experience and social skills.”

“What tipped you off? The stink of desperation?”

“Nope, the poop.”

“You’re joking. Is that actual goat poop on the corner? I thought it was just a stain.” I sniffed it. “It is! Argh, why is 'distinguishing the subtle aromas of goat shit’ part of my skill-set now!?”

Annie laughed, “Ok, enough of Jack. There’s still two left, and I left the best for last.”

“What could possibly top an uncivilized goatboy with a shitty resume? Maybe Balin will finally aim his goat-lover wisecracks at someone other than me.”

“You’ll see, snacks first though!”

Annie called out to the kitchen and Lemontwist brought out some kind of fruit tarts. They were sweet, goopey, and cinnamony. Just the way I liked it - uh huh, uh huh.