Book 2: Chapter 59: Countdown to Departure

Book 2: Chapter 59: Countdown to Departure

The next few weeks kind of blurred together. If we wanted to make it to Kinshasa with enough time to design, build, and get our brewpub started, we needed to leave by the 1st day of the 4th month. The trip itself would take just over three weeks.

3 weeks to departure

Master Brewer Crackle gestured widely at the fermentation tank before him. It was full to the brim with bubbling Ancestral Seed, and a grumble of apprentices bustled back and forth preparing for racking.

“As you can see, tha first stage of our Scented Brew is tha same as our regular brewing process. The bitterin’ ingredient has a slight change in order to reduce some of the off-scents, but I found that it didn’t change the flavour profile that much.”

I instantly pulled out my notebook, turned to an oft-used page, and held my pencil at the ready. “Ah, yes, the bittering agents. Which ones did you take out, and what do you usually use?”

He gave me a curious look and glanced at Annie.

Annie grinned and coughed. “As a mere co-owner, Pete has not yet been inducted into the sacred ways of a [Brewer].”

I groaned and put my notebook away. Crackle and Annie both laughed.

Crackin’ Brews Brewery reminded me a lot of the Thirsty Goat, pre-pub. The layout was quite similar, with the same brewing setup, the same large lunch-room, the same cushy front purchasing area, et cetera. The only real differences were that all the pictures of Goldstones were instead pictures of Crackles, and there was no goat-pen inside. They had a goat, for deliveries, but it was housed in the adjoining Crackle compound. Which was also similar to the Goldstones.

Master Brewer Crackle had agreed to give Annie and me a quick rundown on their technique for making scented brews, and I was looking forward to it. I had a trick that I was planning for when I finally got Manasight, and this might be exactly the kind of inspiration I needed.

“I have a pretty good idea which ingredient you’re talking about,” Annie surmised. “Is it the yellow one?”

Crackle nodded. “Aye.”

“I tried your Scented Brew a few times over the past week,” I put in. “It really doesn’t taste that much different from regular True Brew. I actually like it a bit better, actually.”

“You think anything is better than True Brew.” Annie rolled her eyes.

Crackle looked shocked. “You don’t like True Brew?? And you’re a Brewer!?”

“What, does that make me an uncultured brewt?” I snickered.

Crackle went from shocked to confused, and Annie shook her head.

I circled the tank and sniffed it. It just smelled like regular fermenting True Brew to me. “Have you already done it? The secret ingredient, if you will? Is it love? Please don’t tell me it’s love.”

“And are you sure you’re okay with telling us this?” Annie said, her brow creasing with worry. “I know times have been tight for your clan. I don’t want to take away your chance to earn gold with this.”

Crackle waved our concerns off. “It’s not a problem. Very few will have the skills, the Ability, or the knowhow even if they know, and I would rather not have our method die with us if something should happen to the clan.”

Annie nodded. She had plenty of experience with ‘something happening to the clan’.

Now that we were down to brass tacks I activated [Pete’s MIniature Remembrance], and pulled out my old brewing journal. It was ratty and dog-eared and far too large for a dwarf, but it contained decades of brewing recipes and notes. Experimentation over the past week had revealed that some changes carried over between uses of the Ability. Ripping a page out didn’t carry over, but adding to my cookbooks and notebooks did. Bran guessed that I now considered the changed notebook the ‘true’ notebook, so the Ability brought that version.

We tried destroying a cookbook after we’d copied it out, but the Remembrance still called it back. Which had given me the idea of bringing out items from my childhood. Bran gawping over my childhood Star Wars dolls is something I'll treasure for the rest of my life.

To everyone else it looked like a fairly standard ‘summon something’ Ability. Almost everyone had one. Warriors called their weapons, artisans their tools, wizards their wands. It seemed the Gods had made sure tools were in abundance for their precious Titled.

Crackle waited until I had my pencil poised, then began. “I had the thought of adding scent after talkin’ to my sister. I was struck by tha scent of sandalwood and leather, and how much it reminded me of her. Then I thought about how brewing has its own smell, and a beardy parlour, and a mine, and so on and so forth. So many of our memories are encapsulated in odour, and nobody ever seems ta think about it.”

“Smart!” Annie nodded. “And effective!

Crackle smiled. “So, I tried to figure out how ta ‘capture’ scent. It turned out to be complex and simple at the same time. You see, scents are just another form of Aether, so the method for putting them into beer is to simply add another Aether to each cask as it’s being racked.”

“Do you use magic?” I asked.

Crackle shook his head. “That would be too expensive. Instead, one of our Titled Journeymen used a Milestone opportunity to take an Ability that allows us ta add an Aether to a drink. It’s called [Carbonate]. It isn’t usually chosen by Brewers, as it’s more popular with [Chemists] and [Poisoners], but this turned out to be a great use for it. It allows the user to add an Aether to another Aether.”

“That’s quite simple.” Annie nodded.

“Aye, and it works great! Tha trick is to really know the scent well, and provide the necessary intent. I had me Journeyman spend the entire month of preparation doin’ nothing but oiling leather.” Crackle looked quite pleased with himself.

The two gnomes stared each other down. Each had much to prove and more to lose. Their hands flashed in arcane symbols. A rock, a pick, a dwarf. This battle was one of long tradition and unfathomable power.

The first to falter was the younger. He was less experienced, and prone to rash decisions. He broke under the constant onslaught of rocks and tried to throw a pick.

The elder gnome lifted a dwarf fist in victory and preened his long moustache.

“My cart will be at the front.” Copperpot declared. “Since I’m providing most of the security for the trip, it only makes sense.”

“Do we even need the security?” Whistlemop whined. Bimbleberry and Copperpot’s [Butler] each ran forward and presented their masters with cloths to wipe their sweating brows. “I thought Drum and company dealt with Ambermine.”

Copperpot frowned. “I sent them word, and I know Blackbeard’s carriage vanished, but I haven’t seen sock nor beard of them since. It’s better to take no chances until we know. And you do realize there are monsters between the cities, right?”

Whsitlemop winced. “Fine. You can go first, but I want second.”

I coughed. “Our cart is second.”

“Third.”

“Raspberrysyrup wanted to be in the middle,” I said apologetically.

“FOURTH!” Whistlemop’s face grew red.

“Oooh, that’s Malt’s cart.”

“That leaves... the rear!” Copperpot announced happily! “Where everyone can easily see you! Splendid! I’m certain you won’t be the butt of any jokes!”

He and I shared maniacal laughter as Whistlemop groaned.

Of course Whistlemop and Copperpot were coming with. Barista Brew had been a massive commercial success, and the board of Pot Corporation was desperate to get Copperpot to Kinshasa to replicate the formula before someone beat them to it.

Whistlemop was quite the same, wanting to bring Whistlemugs and other Whistlesundries to the masses, though I was certain that a small part of him just didn’t want me out of his sight. I was just pleased that we’d have two [Butlers] along. The more time I spent being around Bimbleberry, the more I wanted one of my own. Yes, yes, I could admit I was wrong; Butlers were awesome.

It looked like our trip was going to gnomes in the front and gnomes in the back. A regular gnomewich. And I was stuck in the middle with ewe. Was Penelope an ewe? What was the proper word for a female goat? Was it really a nanny goat? That couldn’t be right...

—

2 days to departure

“Why isn’t he back yet!?” Annie paced back and forth in the brewroom. Surprisingly little was actually coming with us. All the equipment was staying, as were the fermentation tanks. We’d taken enough beer to last the first few months until we got up and running, as well as an enormous number of bottles.

Just about everything was tied up. I’d said my goodbyes, including a tearful - but chaste - farewell to Emerelda, and I’d moved out of my tenement house yesterday. Bran and I had spent a few days looking for the perfect cart, and selected a long covered wooden carriage for the Thirsty Goat crew. It was simple, but well made, very dwarven; it made me think of the Yukon Trail and dysentery. It was pulled by a pair of massive unigoats, with space at the front for Penelope to lead.

The only thing missing was commercialism. So I had Zirce and Emma painting Thirsty Goat logos all over it.

“He said he would be back before we leave. Don’t worry about it. It’s his one last hurrah with his adventuring team before we leave for Kinshasa,” I said.

Annie sighed. “That’s the problem! I just... I don’t like him taking this chance so close to us leaving! It’s bad luck!”

“Well, soon you’ll be able to use your [Luck of Clan Goldstone] on him, and you won’t need to worry about it.”

“That’s then this is now.”

“It’ll be fine! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“... What did you just say?”

“Uh...”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?”

“Nothing. Annie, put down the axe. Annie! I’m sorry, I won’t say it again! I’ll knock on wood!! ANNIE!! STAY AWAY!! AHHH!!!”