Book 3: Chapter 44: Wet and Dry

Book 3: Chapter 44: Wet and Dry

Ah, good old deja vu.

I closed my diary and curled back into the pillows I’d piled into my cave-nook. It felt like just a few months ago that I’d been sitting here writing in my diary about winning a round of the Octamillenial.

Annie got the next set of rules in a pretty little manilla envelope this morning, and we were scheduled to debrief it tonight.

We won the quarterfinals by a landslide. They didn’t show us the exact numbers, but we ended up getting sixty-seven percent of the vote, quite literally double Lucky Jean’s. The only competitor who did better was Riverside Brewery, who ended up getting eighty percent of the vote in their bracket. Yeesh.

I still think it’s ridiculous that anyone would vote for a beer they hadn’t tried, but I’m not a royalist.

Master Brewer Herder came by last night to congratulate us on the win. He could see the writing on the wall even before the announcement. He also asked for the brewing techniques for making his own gose. We were more than happy to accept his surrender and provide the know-how.

Between the hops, the sorghum, and some experimentation with my [Miniature Remembrance] I had several ideas all lined up for the next contest. Hopefully it would be a sane ruleset this time.

For some reason, they hadn’t called the cooking contest results yet, and Bran and Darrel were biting heads off in the pub and would continue doing so until they got their answer. Suspicions abounded; we’d lost, the voting had gone wrong, there were problems with the results, et-cetera.

Hopefully they revealed the winners soon. Bran had sworn to feed us nothing but unsalted pea soup until they arrived, and Richter had started muttering about kidnapping a city official and getting them to talk. Anything to stop the endless pea soup.

I checked the calendar that I’d hammered into a wall, and considered.

We were now halfway through the year, and the biggest events of the Octamillenial were fast approaching. There were gladiatorial fights in the Arena, an enormous mock-battle out on the plains to recreate the taking of Crack, an address by the King, the big drinking contest, a magic demonstration put on by the Academy, and a big faire.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com

I was really looking forward to meeting up with Rumbob again. The jovial pro-drinker was scheduled to arrive in Kinshasa some time in the next month to try for the crown of greatest drinker in Crack. It would be interesting to see how the atmosphere around pro-drinking had changed in just the past couple years.

Aqua was currently working on a giant banner that said ‘Rum Tum Rumbob’.

All of this didn’t even include our own competitions or the quest to get Lucky Jean’s treasure.

So much to do, so little time.

I piddled around in my room for a while longer before hitting the bath. I could feel knots in my shoulders that were starting to form their own knots, and I needed to relax before someone accused me of being a knottty dwarf. Nyuck.

I had the place to myself. Bran and Annie were spending the day together at the Grand Market before he left to go fight the boss, Johnsson was out with his boyfriend setting stuff on fire, or something. Richter was preparing to enter Archis Academy in the the fall, and Aqua was out doing some counseling work.

That wasn’t to say that brewing wasn’t happening. After I’d soaked long enough and gotten dressed, I meandered up to the brewroom and stared long and hard at the equipment, then toddered over to a trio of carboys set up against one wall. They were labeled bitter, flavour, and aroma.

Each contained a different type of hop.

I’d bottled them myself two weeks ago, and they were ready to open today.

*Baaaah!!* [Translated From Prima Donna Goat] “I see you, varlet! How dare you try and sneak a drink without providing any for your Princess!”

I jumped a full meter into the air. “Hoy! Penelope! How in tha Nether are you so sneaky!? Shouldn’t your hooves clop or somethin’?”

Penelope gave me a smug look, but said nothing. She nuzzled at the carboys and gave me a curious glance.

“Ah.... why not.” I muttered, running to grab a Whistlemug and her goat dish from the office. I didn’t really want everyone drinking these until I’d had a chance to anyway. If it tasted awful, I’d relegate it to the dark pages of history and no-one would be the wiser.

I popped the third container first and gave it a whiff. I was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. There was a heady amount of citrus to the smell, with hints of spice, almost like hot wine with orange slices. I took a breath and then another, closing my eyes to relish the moment.

Then the mustard hit, in the form of an impatient goat. *Bleeeeehh!!”

“Give me a moment Penelope. This is a big deal for me.” I swirled the drink around, eyeing the clarity. Nothing floating in it, and the colour was a nice crystal-clear amber. I’d gone with making a bog standard ale for this test, using Goldstone Bitters and three variants of hops.

This glass contained some of the hops I’d assumed were Saaz. I’d need to taste it to be sure, but right now it definitely had Saaz’s unique scent. I also couldn’t smell any of the skunk or cheese smells I would associate with a bad hop.

The flavour profile really was quite similar to the German all-purpose noble hop Tettnanger, with the same earthy, mellow tones. I took a deep sniff of the brew and nodded to myself; yes, the smell wasn’t quite as overpowering as the Saaz style variant, but the flavour was more pronounced. It went very well with the Goldstone Bitters, and though it was quite nearly sacrilege, I almost preferred it to pure hops.

This was far and above the best beer I’d ever drunk on Erd. It reminded me very much of a Granville Island German Pilsner from back home. Tettnanger was a favored hop for Pilsners, wits, and lagers in general since it had such a light impact on the brew. It also played well with other bittering agents, which made it a fun hop to play with.

It melded with the Goldstone Bitters like they’d been made for each other, and I took another gulp as the cold beer quenched my thirst in that way only a good ale could.

I finished, then grimaced as I considered the empty glass. It would surely be fate if Tettnanger became the most popular hop variety on Erd. After all, it’d been grown by order of the King. King Wilhelm to be exact, which made it Pete tested, nobility approved.

Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!

More! MORE!

Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don’t count.

Drinks Invented: 6/16

It was time to try the third brew. This hop didn’t have too much aroma. so I’d put it into the boil right at the start. Hops added at the start of the wort boil added their full bitterness to the brew, and I was looking forward to seeing how a hop-bittered beer tasted like to my current tastebuds.

With shaking hands I poured the requisite mug and bowl, then took a sip. Penelope did the same a half second later.

Both of us choked, gagged, and spat beer all over the floor.

It was bitter, foul, and clashed horribly with the Goldstone Bitters.

Penelope had shoved her bowl far away from her, and was head first in her water trough. I nearly did the same, but had the presence of mind to grab some fresh water from a passing elemental instead. When I could breathe again I walked around the room activating [Spot Clean] on the mess we’d made.

By all tha bits of the Gods! Forget the flavour profile, or what kind of Earth hops it was analogous to, I couldn’t feel my face!

It was a good thing that I’d tested this myself! If I’d presented this brew to the team first, they’d never look at hops again!

I couldn’t tell if it was the hops, the mix of bitters, or what, but this was definitely out. I’d need to try without the Goldstone Bitters next time, or use the Brightleaf variety instead. Either way, the third carboy got emptied into the sink, never to be spoken of again.

Just in time too, as Annie walked into the room.

“Hey Annie! How’s it going?”

“Uh...”

“Uh...?”

She gave me a vacant look. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“Hi sorry, I’m Pete. What’s up? Everything okay?”

Annie stared at me with blank eyes, and I started to grow nervous.

“Weren’t you at Balin out at the Market? Why do you look like someone died?? Talk to me Annie!”

Annie nodded, halfheartedly. “Remember how I was waiting until tonight to read the contest package? Well, we ran into Master Brewer Schist of Riverside Brewery. at the market. He told us he couldn’t wait to see which of us was the better brewer.”

It took a second, and I got it. My face grew wan.

Annie nodded. “Aye. Our competitor for this round...”

I finished, horror in my eyes, “Is Riverside Brewery!?”