Chapter 25: Life was good today.

Chapter 25: Life was good today.

Running to the tavern, Suzette noticed how busy the town had become. New players seemed to be coming to the area every day. She knew that part of this had to do with the plentiful newbie areas around Rowan Keep and the Keep's lack of a tavern or inn. Sedgewick had one of each and seemed to be the meeting place for a lot of the adventuring parties. Business was booming for the locals. Aliester was selling healing potions as fast as he made them. Which was good for Suzette as he was happy to supply her with lots of ingredients for practice. Ranks on a character sheet didn't really translate into skill, the sheet just reflected the skill you had earned. The potency of potions was much greater when made by a practiced alchemist instead of a new player with the alchemy skill. She'd take all the practice she could get.

As she entered the tavern, Derek was just coming up from the basement with a barrel of ale. He paused for a moment without setting it down. "Ah, and here's the culprit. Follow me out back so we can open this up and see what you've done."

"Is that the barrel of ale I made? Why are we taking it out back? I thought it wouldn't be done until tomorrow?"

Derrek set the ale down on a wooden stand made for holding a keg. Suzette saw a grating in the ground. "Well, we have a bit of a problem. You're right, should have been done tomorrow. But the magic is used up and the keg is ready. So, we need to see what you made. Maybe it's all fine, and you just put a bit too much mana into it which sped the process. On the other hand, I've had batches just go bad and stink to high heaven. Which is why we are opening it out here where we can pour it into the sewer if it's bad. Take the tap, and push it into the bunghole. Tap it with the wooden mallet to seat it tightly. Then pour a mug and we'll see."

The tap went in fine. When she poured the ale into a mug, it came out very dark and quite foamy. But it didn't smell bad. She took a sip and started choking. "That's a bit strong for my taste." She handed the mug to Derek. He took a sip and then another.

Derek took a small sip, and then a longer one. He closed his eyes as the beverage ran down his throat and hit his stomach. "Strong isn't the word for it. This has the taste of a dark stout, but the alcohol content far past that. Closer to brandy at around 40 proof. Weak for a whiskey, but strong as hell for an ale. I don't want to pry, but I've got to wonder how much mana you put into this. The cantrip drains about 50 mana per batch from me."

"Oh, well, a bit more than that; probably 200 to 250 mana. Is that bad?"

Derrek took another sip. "Well, in this case I think it works fine. I'll tell a few of the regulars we have a special brew for them to try. Something with a kick like this will have more than a few folks who will like it. But we price it at 2x normal cost. It's not easy to make. That's a lot of mana to dump into one batch." He paused to smell the ale again, and touched his nose. "Already getting a bit numb from just half a mug. Let’s make that 4x normal. But warn people before they drink a second mug."

"We'll have to work on your control. You have a lot of mana. Hell of a lot. Mana is just another ingredient in the brew, like hops or water. Need to measure it better. " He took another sip. "Not that a barrel like this every now and then is a bad thing. Not at all."

"Alright Beatrice, Let's Ride." The cart moved maybe a foot, Beatrice cocked an ear back and brayed her annoyance.

"Ok, sorry, but saying 'let’s drive a cart' just doesn't sound right. If you don't like it, come up with your own phrase. The donkey looked at Ben for a moment before snorting once and then let out a loud "Heehaw!" and started pulling the cart down the road.

They'd gone about 3 miles when four men stepped into the road from some conveniently close bushes. And looking behind him Ben noted two more. These had crossbows cocked. "We need to have some words with you Mr. Courier. You done us wrong and there will now come a reckonin' for your shaming actions."

A second bandit turned to the first. "Is it 'shaming actions' Jed? I'd think you'd wants to be saying 'shameless actions' wouldn't you?"

A third shook his head. "Nope, it's ‘shameful.’ He should be ashamed of what he done, he really should. Shameless is a bit different."

Jed looked at both of them: "Can I intergitate the prisoner please? I don't interrupt when it's your turns."

Ben was confused, and Beatrice didn't have an opinion on which word should be used. "Excuse me, gentlemen, and yes I am an official courier. Can I be let known how I have wronged you please? I'm sure there is some misunderstanding."

Jed looked at Ben. "Well, I don't think so, the facts of the matter have been explored. You made a trip up to the keep the other day. We'd heard that a new chapter came in the mail from...well, it doesn't matter from who. We knew it was on its way. We were waiting here for you, sort of taking naps in the afternoon sun. Then instead of stopping you just kept going up the road like you weren't stopping at all. We figured we'd been told wrong. But we checked, and sure enough, there was a new chapter of The Perils of Penelope going to Granya in that mail shipment. But you weaseled right on by and didn't stop."

The Wolf Eternal!

Beware! For Chartok the Necro-Wolf has returned, stronger than ever. Having reaped the souls of many heroes the wolf spirit has taken a new body and rebuilt his pack of terror. Chartok roams the Hollywood once again.

Captain Falcar glared at his sergeant. "You just had to say it, didn't you?" Julius slapped his forehead. Several interested adventurers began lining up to get information on the new quest.

Ben wandered off looking for the whiskey merchant. He hoped to never see that wolf again. Unfortunately, worse was waiting for him, in the person of Layla Vandergilt.

"Finally! I've been sitting around this ugly little keep fending off advances from idiots for hours. Where the hell have you been? And what the hell is this, a donkey cart? Billy sends me an idiot driving a cart pulled by some glue factory reject? He has a lot to answer for."

Ben just nodded and mumbled. He'd dealt with people like this before. "Sorry ma'am...roads is dangerous...have you back soon." Beatrice glared at her. Unaware of how close to death she was, Layla simply climbed in the back of cart. Ben started back down the road to home. Beatrice made sure they hit every rock on the way. Layla only noticed they were off the main road when they came to the goblin camp.

"What the hell is this place?"

Ben stopped the cart. "Just making a delivery ma'am. Please just stay in the cart while I drop off the chief’s booze".

"Hell, I will, I'm looking around. And this booze is crap."

Ben saw she was holding a half empty bottle of Red Wizard whiskey. He checked the case in back and sure enough, it was opened and a bottle missing. This fact was not lost upon the enraged chief when Ben brought the case up to his wooden throne. "Your female steals this Chiefs booze! Our agreement is broken Ben-courier! This will mean war between our peoples."

Ben quickly pulled out the bag of silver he'd been given as a quest reward. "Oh, great chief, know that this woman is not of my tribe. She is an enemy/friend of Chief Billy. To make good upon our deal, I pledge this silver for many bottles to replace the one that she took."

The chief hefted the bag. "This buys a lot more than one bottle Bencourier. A lot more."

Ben eyed the half-drunk woman strutting around the camp and making disparaging comments about its inhabitants. "The woman has also offended your tribe. And she offended Beatrice as well. Chief Billy would not be unhappy if she suffered a bit and did not make it back before the sky is fully dark."

The Chief looked at Ben, then at a still fuming Beatrice. He stood and yelled. "THIEF! You steal the sacred fire water of the Red Wizard. You shall be punished. She shall suffer the pokings of a thousand sharp sticks and be burnt upon the pyre! After her my warriors. Do not let her run to the safety of her village."

The goblins didn't have to be told twice. A dozen of them started poking lightly at Layla, barely drawing blood. She screamed and ran for the front gate, two dozen goblins lazily running behind her. The chief picked up the half empty bottle and poured two glasses for himself and Ben. The rest he put in a bowl for Beatrice. "She'll show up a couple of hours past sundown. You have my word on that friend Bencourier." Ben and Beatrice made good time and were home soon. They did make a small stop at the clearing where the bandits seemed to hang out. Chapter 174 of 'The Perils of Pauline' had arrived for Granya. Ben read the chapter to them. He was getting better at doing all the voices, to the bandits' delight.

Later, after dark, Billy was sitting on the grassy hill overlooking the bridge at the edge of town. Layla came stumbling up the road, pursued by jeering goblins. One was poking her repeatedly in the butt with a blunt stick to keep her moving as the others just walked behind laughing. As she finally crossed the bridge, they turned for home. Layla turned and spat at them. "Your days are numbered you filthy little rats. Your whole village will be a smoking hole when I'm done."

Billy took a sip of his freshly brewed dark stout and a bite of a meat muffin. Life was good today.N0v3lTr0ve served as the original host for this chapter's release on N0v3l--B1n.