Book 3: Chapter 3: Answering Hard Questions

Book 3: Chapter 3: Answering Hard Questions

The questions came rapid-fire at first, then slowed down as everyone digested.

Questions like: how old were you, were you really a brewer, do you like being a dwarf, did you get any Godly powers, what are quests, how expensive was your soul, what was it like kissing someone without a beard? I was happy to answer any and all questions, though I told Aqua I wasnt going to answer the last one.

The first to voice a serious complaint was Johnsson. Wait, Im confused. Why does Richter seem to know what was going on already? And Aqua too.

Bran, whod just been drilling me on my during death experiences, turned away shamefaced, and Annie coughed uncomfortably. Balin twiddled his thumbs.

Johnssons eyes grew wide with dawning horror. Wait, am I tha last to know!? You told everyone but me!?

Opal growled as she punched Bran in the arm. They didnt tell me, either!

Johnsson glared at her. You dont work with him! Weve been practically livin together for over a year!

I was his doctor!

I coughed. I dont see how thats relevant -

Opal held her hand up in a shushing motion. You could have been harboring some kind of inter-dimensional disease! For shame!

I blinked twice, as did everyone else.

Uhh thats not how - Richter began, but Opal simply repeated, FOR SHAME!

I still dont think its fair. I feel completely and utterly betrayed! Johnsson moaned. I got the definite feeling he was hamming it up for effect, but I really did feel bad.

Kirk held up his hand. Honestly, Pete really does seem pretty normal to me.

You may not have a good baseline on what makes a normal dwarf, then. Annie smirked.

Not that anyone in tha Thirsty Goat is a good baseline. Bran muttered. Opal chuckled and patted his back in clear couple language for: You chose this hell, now lie in it.

Johnsson nailed me with a steely glower, and I shrank back, explaining desperately, Im sorry Johnsson, we just never really hung out much. Richter figured it out during our lessons, Aqua and I butted heads over administration, I had to bribe Bran with otherworldly recipes, and Balin and Annie knew because, well, one was my boss and the other my brother!

You bribed Bran with what? Opal asked, her eyes narrowing. By Midnas Mangy Mullet, this is certainly an eye-opening conversation!

Bran gave me a look that screamed someones getting spit in their soup and turned to talk down his betrothed.

Well, if its just a problem of not hanging out, you just need ta come with me to more beardy parlours. Johnsson said with conviction, as he shakily stood to pour himself a drink. Aaron knows your beard always needs more care, and hasnt that been fully explained. And I know you like wrestling, so we should go to some in the capital; they have the most amazing ring. Did they wrestle on your E-Arth?

Annie waved to catch everyone's attention. Alright, alright. Johnsson, were all sorry about keeping you in the dark, and Opal, please give us Brans ear for a moment. Peter, I really need you to explain a bit more about the Chosen of the Gods bit. Not the Im so special bit, but the other Chosen may try to kill us bit.

I sighed and pulled at my beard. According to my chat with Barck -

I screamed as I was buried ignominiously beneath a pile of dwarves. And a single extremely heavy human.

I rubbed at my aching shoulders, where [Regeneration] was busy repairing my sprain. I still think it's ridiculous. Mentioning something aloud doesnt mean its going to happen.

Malt plonked down beside me in front of the fire. I was on the first watch with him since Id been kicked out of the wagon for welcoming a test from the Gods. Two of Balins party - Aishablue and Manny were chatting on the other side of the fire along with a couple of Copperpots guards.

In Canada, the tradition was to mutter Knock on Wood whenever we said something that could be considered bad luck. Id always thought it was meant to ward off the devil or something by knocking on wood, but Id learned late in life that Id been doing it completely wrong. You werent supposed to knock on wood, but on anything but wood. When you said something unlucky, any listening faeries would work to make it happen, but if you followed it up by saying knock on wood, but instead knocked on some plastic, theyd think you were just talking nonsense.

Not that I agreed with it, but in a world where the Gods were always watching and liked to test peoples worthiness he was asking for it took on new meaning.

Theyll forgive you, eventually. Malt passed me a tankard full of brew and I stared at it suspiciously. He smiled. Its some of your Liquid Gold. I know you dont like True Brew.

Ah, in that case, thankee. I took a drag and sighed. Still not perfect, but it would do.

We sat and stared at the fire for a while. A passage from a book about not looking at fires on watch ran through my mind, but I ignored it. We were a large enough group that bandits would avoid us and my [Minimap] was set to Monsters. Plus, we had that terrifying glass mantis thing out there somewhere and Mannys glassfly-eye-spies. That gnome was scary!

Do you mind if I ask a question? Malt broached the silence.

Aye.

Malt began to speak, then snapped his mouth shut with a *clack*. Yes. you mind, or yes, I can ask?

Yes, you can ask. Malt elbowed me in the ribs and we shared a chuckle. Go ahead, I may or may not answer.

You act a bit old for your age, sometimes, you know that Pete? So tell me, why did you want to get to Kinshasa so badly? Youve been pushing yerself so hard that at this rate youll burn out before you even hit a hundred. Ive seen it in young dwarves countless times over the years. The ones that never become old dwarves, that is.

Huh Conceptually, I understood that my new body would last hundreds of years - barring a monster attack or acute liver failure - but my brain still wasnt fully accepting the implications. Would I burn out? I was slowly turning more and more dwarflike, but Peter Phillips was originally human. I set the thoughts aside to answer Malts question. Part of it is to spread me brews to more dwarves. I want everyone to fall in love with Liquid Gold, to laugh at a friend splitting cheeks with Ass Blaster, and get blitzed on Barista Brew. The Octamillenial is tha best stage fer that. Minnova is small compared to tha reach and population of Kinshasa.

Malt nodded. Aye, I can see that.

I looked up at where the crack was, far above us. Now that it was nighttime, the ceiling was pitch black, with only the floating lanterns above us shedding dim light into the massive cavern. A ghostly wail echoed through the hills and the watchers all sat to attention, but itd come from far off, and we were all soon at ease again.

I continued, but its more than that, too. Theres still so many new things to try, places ta go, and ingredients to test. Kinshasas tha gateway to tha surface world, and I want ta see it. I also wanted to complete my dwarven influence quest to get [Manasight], so I could finally start playing with magic. Magic brews! Fireballs! Both alcoholic and flamey! And now that I had an influence quest for gnomes, there were probably similar ones for the other races too. What wondrous quest rewards would there be for those??

Ahhh, an adventurer. I know tha type. It takes some, like yer giant, Kirk; the wanderlust. Malt sighed. Thats even more dangerous than tryin to change the Sacred Brew. I hope you dont run off and leave your crew behind.

Not a wanderlust, its a crafters lust. I want to be the best. DO the best. To share my love of brewing with the world. Not just dwarves. Humans. Elves. Dragons. THE GODS. I grasped my hand in the air, as if capturing a dream in the palm of my hand.

Malt stared at me, sideyed, and took a sip from his mug. I waited for him to speak again, but he remained silent. We sat quietly for another hour or so, listening to Manny and AIshablue discuss the common monsters of Deepcore Dungeon, and staring into the warmth of the fire.

When it came time to switch shifts we shared a cordial good evening, and Bran and Opal took our places.

I settled into my cot on the wagon nestled between Balin and Johnsson, and was soon fast asleep.

Of course, nothing attacked us that night. That wouldve been ridiculous.