Beers and Beards

Book 1 - Epilogue

A board lay on the center of the table, eight ornate pieces atop it. The pieces moved about in an ancient game that no mortal could ever hope to comprehend.

The players of the game were currently arguing.

“This is ridiculous! How is he beating my Chosen!? He isn’t even pretty!” A slightly grubby woman with a blonde mullet whined.

A stately black elven woman scoffed. “How is pretty supposed to mean anything when you chose a writer Midna!?”

“Stop teasing her, Lunara. I’m more surprised that he’s beating Solen’s Chosen.” The well-dressed gnomess that was Tiara said.

“Hmph. It will remain to be seen if that keeps...” The bronze dragon Solen opened a maw filled with fire.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that, Solen.” An elderly man in arcane robes muttered.

A young gnome girl squealed from under the table. “Your pretty pop-princess is losing, Archie!”

“It’s ARCHIS!”

!!BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP!!

Seven eyes turned to look up the mountain. Barck sat on his bluff and looked down upon the world. He held a bottle of beer that depicted a rather rude image of a goat and was devouring a pretzel the size of a football stadium. Every once in a while the mountain rocked as he roared with laughter.

“Ugh, he’s going to be insufferable if he wins this.” Lunara muttered.

The lanky feline beastman Aaron stood from his chair. “I’m going to get some fries and see what’s on.”

There was a general mutter of agreement as the Gods went to watch their favourite streams.

In the now unattended gazebo, an ivory dwarf carrying a bottle moved into opposition with another dwarf wielding a shepherd\'s crook. Far below, mortals whirled through the intricate dance of life, blissfully unaware of a Great Game that was slowly building into a storm.

–

Balin passed through the great stone archway to the Adventurer’s Guild and looked around. The Guild was located near the gate closest to Greentree, and served as a hub for merchants and adventurers alike. A stream of monster hunters, porters, and middlemen poured through the grand stone entrance alongside him.

The Adventurer’s Guild was made entirely of thick stone blocks, and the double-wide door held a portcullis that could easily accommodate wagons of supplies. Its basement stretched deep below the city, and it was connected to several different water sources. In the case of a monster stampede it was meant to act as a last line of defense for beleaguered citizens.

The general feeling around him was of eagerness and repressed bloodthirst. Adventuring parties sharpened their weapons and prepared to enter the outskirts of Greentree for the first time in nearly two months. The city had announced the reopening of the dungeon just one day prior as the various displaced monsters had finished settling into their new territories. Balin spotted multiple six man parties and even a couple of twelve person raids. Then there were the singleton stragglers; either newcomers like him, or powerful named adventurers. Speaking of named adventurers, Balin spotted the one he had come to meet and waved.

“Tania!”

The dwarfess spotted Balin and waved back. “Balin, over here!”

Balin picked his way through the crowd and trotted up next to her. She was dressed for battle, her thick plate-metal armour covered every inch of her body, and her heavy two-handed meteor-hammer was polished to a mirror finish.

“Everyone, this is Balin.” She gestured to a group of dwarves arrayed around her. They were all rough and tumble veterans of Greentree dungeon. Balin spotted a [Conjurer], a [Wizard], a [Doctor], a [Berzerker], and a [Hunter]. “Balin here wants ta become an adventurer. Balin, this is my party, Bloody Beard.”

There was a murmur of welcome, though no great cheer. These grizzled warriors were all too aware of the dangers to cheer for anyone mad or desperate enough to become an adventurer.

“Wait, I think I recognize that name.” The [Berserker] piped up. He wore little more than hide armor, his legs bare and covered with tattoos. His face bore an enormous scar that stretched from his left cheek down to his chest. “Yer tha one the [Guards] were discussin’!”

Balin blushed a bit, but stuck his chest out proudly. “Aye, I’ve heard that.”

“The one that fought the Stoneant Warriors? Och, you’ll fit right in here, then!” The [Wizard] chuckled.

“We don’t have space fer him.” The [Doctor] grouched.

“Aw shove off! I just wanted to introduce ‘im. He’s going to join one of the new teams.” Tania smacked the white robed [Healer] on the shoulder.

Balin nodded. “Captain Morris wanted ta’ pair me up with his daughter’s team.”

“Brightstar?” The [Berzerker] mumbled. “Aye, they were lookin’ fer a meat-shield. If what I’ve heard is true, you’d fit the bill. [Knight] right? That’ll fit in perfectly with those uptight - *ahem* - What made ya decide to become an adventurer anyway?”

Balin frowned. “Aye, I’m a [Knight]. As fer why I’m here, it’s ‘cause someone recently tried ta mess with ma’ family. Between that and the false alarm with tha’ monster stampede, I’m sick o’ my kin bein’ threatened. I’m goin’ to get strong enough, and famous enough, that nobody will come near \'em again!” His voice pitched lower as he spoke, his voice and demeanor shifting to a simmering anger.

The truth was, with the amount of money they were making, the Thirsty Goat could now afford to hire carpenters. His skills with a saw weren’t necessary any longer. Yet each day he sat with a hammer in hand, ignoring the power within his Title and [Golden Armour]. It was a waste of a mighty gift, and he’d finally had enough. He spoke with Annie, and the two of them agreed: The likelihood that the Guild of Brewers, or some other ne’er do well, would try to sabotage their work in the future was high. However, if he became a named adventurer? Nobody Fueded with a clan that had one of those.

So here he was, joining a party of dwarves he’d never met. To stand at the front as they pushed into the deadly dangers of the dungeon.

“Yer in the right place. If you can survive long enough to make it count!” The [Wizard] chuckled. He took a swig from a bottle and Balin jolted as he realized it was a bottle of Thirsy Goat’s New Brew. “You can see what yer’ future holds on tha board over there! Grab a job or two! Don’t ferget to read tha’ notices, they’ll save yer life!” He pointed at a wall spanning cork board. It was covered with posters, leaflets, parchments, and various odds and ends. A crowd milled in front of it, and every so often someone would reach up to rip a piece of paper off the wall and take it to the front desk.

“You’d better not be drunk when we hit the dungeon…” Tania scowled.

“Relax, it’ll be at least an hour before we get there.” The [Wizard] made a shooing motion. “Go get the newbie signed in.”

“You lot keep an eye on him.” She pointed at the [Wizard]. “Balin, come with me, we need to go get you registered.”

She led Balin to the enormous front desk. A dozen connected booths stretched floor to ceiling, each containing a uniform clad clerk. The adventuring guild uniform was a black-and-red-checkered studded leather affair, notable for the enormous feather each clerk wore in their bascinet helmet.

Upon notifying the clerk of his intention to join the Adventuring Guild, Balin was required to provide ID, fill several forms out in triplicate, and then provide a bit of his blood for an adventurer’s tag. He performed all the tasks with his usual quiet enthusiasm, and was partway through reading a waiver that absolved the Adventuring Guild of all fault if he died in the dungeon, when there was a commotion at the front door.

A panting dwarf ran into the hall and made his way to the board. He wore a uniform that marked him as a page from City Hall, and a commotion sprang up as adventurers noticed his presence. A request from City Hall usually paid very well, and fighting over who could complete it first wasn’t uncommon. Then there was the possibility that it was a notification or warning.

The page nailed his notification to the board and then left posthaste, leaving a rapidly increasing circle of curious onlookers.

“What is it?” A burly dwarf in chainmail shouted.

“It’s a notification from Kinsasha!” A gnome shouted. The hubbub grew in intensity at that.

“What’s this got to do with us?” A half naked dwarf wielding a broadsword grumbled.

A gnomish [Wizard] in a pointy hat scoffed. “It’s probably going up at every message board in the city. There’s nothing special about you, idjit.”

Balin walked forward and began reading the notice as a fight broke out. As he read, his eyes grew wide.

Attention Citizens of Crack!

The King seeks his greatest Brewers to take part in a competition that will shake the foundations of Crack!

Few are the Guilds of Brewers within our borders, but fewer are those that have risen to the top. Which Guild has the greatest brewer within the dwarven kingdoms?

The octamillenial is the perfect opportunity to reveal how well we have kept the traditions of our ancestors. Or perhaps, how much we have advanced with the gifts they gave us!

Given eight thousand years, which brewery has truly perfected the art of Brewing?

Starting in six months, each city shall hold a contest whereby all the brewers will compete for the title of best brewery. Each Guild will select up to eight breweries to compete from among their members, and the City Lord will judge them.

The top Brewery in each city will be invited to Kinsasha, where a brewery and pub will be provided to them. In return, they will be expected to provide the citizens of the Capital with their top-quality brews. The final contest will take place over six months in a series of Feuds leading up to the final contest. The winning Brewery will become the official Royal Brewer of Crack!

Brewers, make your country proud!”

“Huh, think yer’ buddies might want to take a crack at that?” Tania muttered beside him, “Can they, with you not being members o’ tha guild anymore?”

“I think…” Balin grinned. “Pete can probably figure something out.”