Beers and Beards

Book 2. Chapter 6: Aptitude Test

“He insulted our princess. We don’t need some dirty goatboy that can’t appreciate true beauty, isn’t that right, Penelope?” I pulled Penelope\'s head close by her horn and gave her a nuzzle.

She gave me a testy head butt and pranced off, her tail held high.

*Meeeeh.* [Translated from Jerk Goat] “Eat goat shit and die.”

I coughed. Maybe I would… leave my internal goat translator as it was before the goatboy incident.

“I still like Bimbleberry, but Kirk would really mesh well with us. Having some muscle around the brewpub would be nice too.” Annie said, ignoring the byplay. “The Brewers Guild hasn’t tried anything after the events of the Feud, but we still get the odd curmudgeon."

“Bimbleberry has the charisma to talk just about anybody down,” I put in. “I think tha big question is: will people be comfortable drinkin’ their beer if there’s a human serving them?”

Annie shook her head. “No, I don’t see why that would matter. Humans are just bigger than all the other races, that’s why they call them ‘giants’.”

“Humans are giants?”

Annie nodded. “They’re often referred to as such. Most of the humans in Minnova are on the short side for their race. Our architecture can be hard on them in general so only the shortest come deep into Crack. Kirk is a little above average for the race.”

And he’d been huge! “What about elves? Beastkin?” My lessons had focused on dwarves and dwarven culture, so I hadn’t really covered racial biology that much.

“Elves are a bit taller than dwarves, though much thinner. Beastkin are roughly the same size as elves, though their antlers add some height. Humans are easily the largest race other than dragons, but the scaly lizards keep to the continent of Drakken.”

Wow. I was used to humans being the average boring race in fantasy worlds, so this was a bit different.

“Dwarves are famed for their vitality and strength, right? What about the other races?” I asked.

Annie sighed and put down Bimbleberry’s resumé. “We need to finish this before we open. Ask Richter during your next lessons.”

“Fine. So… why not just hire both? We just hired a bunch of people into the brewery section.”

Annie ran her hand through her beard and thought for a moment before speaking. “All those hires were old hands to the brewery. Most of them had to leave because we couldn’t afford their wages last year. Richter, John, and Johnsson took a substantial pay cut to stay with us. Now that we are hiring someone new, please remember that we can only hire people we trust.”

“What, are you concerned about people stealing the secret to brewing?” I scoffed. “I thought we were past that. We’ve had a bunch of dwarves come by and ask for brewing tips the past couple months. I don’t think the secret to beer brewing was as secret as the brewers guild hoped. It was just taboo.”

Annie shook her head. “It’s more than that. Pete, people who work for us will do so for possibly their entire lives. For hundreds of years. It’s rare for a dwarven clan business like ours to take in more than one new person a century. Between you and Balin joining the Goldstones it’s already been two just this last year.”

Hmmm… yeah, I could see that. If you were going to have someone working with you for several hundred years, too many new people at once could completely wreck the work culture.

“Who do all the youngsters usually work with then?” I pushed a resume forward. “I prefer Kirk, by the way.”

“They’re usually apprenticed en-mass by various Guilds. Gnomish companies are usually more willing to take on large numbers of new employees as well.” Annie said, and pushed forward a different resume. “I still like Bimbleberry the most.”

“Does anybody care what I think?” Aqua asked, pushing a broom past the table.

“What do you think, Aqua?” Annie replied, sweetly.

Aqua leaned on her broom and sighed. “Kirk’s better looking. And that voice… dreamy.”

“And what does that have to do with waitering?” Annie asked with amusement.

“We’ll have a certain subset of dwarven ladies hammering on our doors at opening every day, I guarantee it.” Aqua tittered, then returned to her sweeping.

I shook my head. “That didn’t help at all, so I guess we’re at an impasse?”

Annie nodded. “Aye.”

We hummed and hawwed for a minute until I was struck by a bolt of lightning.

Not literally. An important distinction in a world with magic.

“How about an aptitude test!”

—

Kirk and Bimbleberry eyed each other and then looked around the room. A grumble of dwarves sat at various tables around the room, and Bran and Lemontwist had the kitchen running at full.

“May I ask what this is?” Bimbleberry asked.

Kirk grinned. “Are you inviting us to a late lunch? I accept! I’ve heard good things about this place’s food.”

Bimbleberry nodded. “Oh yes, they’re exceptional.”

“It’s a test!” I announced proudly. “You two were both so perfect that we couldn’t decide on who to hire. As such, we designed this little scenario to test your waitering skills.” I waved one hand around the room. “This is the rest of the crew of the Thirsty Goat. Say hello everyone!”

The grumble in the room waved their hands and grumbled. I nodded, a grumble was indeed a good name for a group of dwarves!

I began pointing them out.

“The three at those table are Richter, John, and Johnsson. They’re the OG three from when I started working.” The tall black South-Erdian Richter looked up from a book he was reading, though John and Johnsson ignored us to continue with an argument. Possibly something to do with Johnnsson’s new pink mohawk?

Bimbleberry mouthed “OG?” curiously.

I pointed to a picnic table with a pair of dwarfesses. They both had almost raspberry coloured beards so curly they were practically permed. They were wearing Raspberrysyrup branded leather armour as well. Branding like that was new, and it was kind of fun watching the usually taciturn dwarves get swept up in brand fever. Right now it was mostly Whistlemop’s Fineries and Raspberrysyrup doing it, but a few local businesses were starting to catch on. I even saw an armored jacket for a local blacksmith recently!

“Those are Zirce and Emma, they’re twin sisters in case you couldn’t tell.”

“Hai!” Zirce waved back.

“Nice ta meet ya!” Emma added.

“And good luck!” They both giggled.

Lastly I pointed to another pair of dwarves sitting side by side at a table in the corner. “Those are two of our oldest members, Moony and Markus.” Moony had her head on Markus’s shoulder and the two of them were softly chatting. They didn’t seem to notice our attention. Both of them had shock white beards and hair done up in traditional dwarven style. They reminded me a bit of the ‘cool’ grandma and grandpa that everyone else had, while you were stuck with angry racist ‘in my day’ grandpa. Moony often brought treats to work that she’d made at home, and Markus told the best stories during staff lunch and dinner.

“With Penelope they’re Goat White and the Seven Dwarves!” Nyuck!

“What am I, chopped goat?” Bran shouted, sticking his head out the transom window to the kitchen.

“We love you Bran!” I called back, and there was a general chuckle in the brewpub. I turned back to our two applicants. “Your job will be to serve everyone a late lunch and then a snack. They will be making orders, eating, making messes, et cetera.”

“I see.” Bimbleberry nodded. “I’ve not seen it done quite this way before, but I understand the reasoning. You wish to see a live demonstration of our skills.”

“That’s right.”

“Will it be natural, or do you have surprises planned?”

This guy was smart. I tried to hide my smile, an easy task with a huge beard and a high charisma. “Not telling.”

Kirk laughed. “I think that’s a yes, Bimbleberry!”

The two surveyed the room, taking everything in. I let them. We’d put a few… traps here and there, like a wet spot on the floor and a piece of roller wood from the brew-room. We’d also re-organized the tables to be a bit less… optimal.

I cleared my throat to grab their attention again. “Who’s first?”

Kirk and Bimbleberry looked at each other, then Kirk grinned and began bunching up his sleeve. Bimbleberry snorted and did the same.

Wait, were they going to fight for it!?

—

Kirk won the game of rock, pick, dwarf. The rules were similar enough to rock, paper, scissors that I had to wonder if another Otherworlder had brought it over.

Dwarf breaks pick.

Pick smashes rock.

Rock squishes dwarf.

The only differences to the hand signs were that pick kept two fingers together instead of apart like scissors, and dwarf was paper with the fingers pointing down like a beard.

Bimbleberry, Annie, and myself absconded to watch from behind the bar.

I held out a notepad and pencil. “Do you need a notepad for takin’ orders?”

Kirk nodded and took the proffered items. “My int stat isn’t high enough for perfect recall yet. I know everything in my [Inventory] at all times though.”

“That’s neat. Is that one of tha Blessing Abilities for Porters?”

“Yes indeed. Instead of a cloak of shadows I can put things into my shadow.” Kirk nodded.

“What are your other Abilities?” I began taking notes in my own notepad. It was usually considered rude to ask a person their Abilities, but this was a job application.

“[Strength of All: Self][Inventory][Strengthened Steps][Sense Motives][Basic Slash][Basic Dodge][Store Area] and [Sticky Grip]”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a lot of combat Abilities.”

Kirk shrugged. “I was originally a cross-country Porter, and that involved a lot of running away from and fighting monsters. It’s still useful in day to day porting though. Never know when someone might want to steal what you’re carrying.”

“Is it possible to steal from your [Inventory]?”

“Over my dead body!” Kirk quipped. Or maybe that wasn’t a quip. Oof.

“How about you, Bimbleberry?” I regarded the debonair Butler.

Bimbleberry placed his open hand on his chest. “My Abilities are [Sense Needs],[Strengthened Tools],[Strength of All: Self], [Nothingness], [Soothing Voice], [Immaculate Attire] and [Paper Pusher].”

“Let me write those all down on my handy dandy judging notepad here… and done. You get fifteen minutes to show your skills here Kirk, are you ready?”

Kirk nodded. “I was born ready.”

“Then… GO!”

He was off. And I mean OFF.

“[Strengthened Steps]!” Kirk said cheerfully and then practically teleported next to Zirce and Emma’s table. Between the Ability and his long legs he crossed the room in only a few strides.

He took their order on his notepad and then made his way to the kitchen. As he passed John, the wily old dwarf stuck his foot out to trip him up. Kirk barely seemed to notice, his entire body lifting out of the way as he continued on his way. [Basic Dodge] maybe? He hadn’t shouted out the Ability, but it would be a bit weird to do that in the middle of a restaurant.

He placed the sheet of paper with the order on it into the transom and jetted back to the tables. He quickly gathered everyone’s orders with genial aplomb, laughing and joking with Richter, making smalltalk with Moony and Markus, and outright flirting with Aqua. After the orders were collected he began pouring drinks. Not delivering drinks… pouring drinks. Everyone in the pub stared open-mouthed as he pulled a keg out of thin air, balanced it on one hand and began pouring a beer from it right at the table. His large size made it easy for him to hold it, and I suspect his [Sticky Grip] ability made it easier still. It was a pretty impressive feat either way.

“Oops!” Johnsson shouted, knocking his plate from the table. The food splattered all over the floor, making an awful mess.

“Waiter!” John snapped his fingers, like a jerk. “Over here!”

“Yes sir!” Kirk headed past their table, and… didn’t stop. As his shadow passed over the mess he declared “[Store Area]!” And the entire mess disappeared into his inventory. There was a small stain left-over that Kirk wiped up with a rag obtained from the kitchen.

Holy shit!

I glanced over at Bimbleberry, who had wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. Looks like he found it impressive too.

The crowning moment was when Kirk delivered lunch to the trio of Richter, John, and Johnsson - a Bacon, Cabbage, Onion sandwich with some of Bran’s secret sauce drizzled on it and a helping of mayo. He walked out of the kitchen completely empty-handed and ran his hand over the table in a circular motion. He easily reached every part of the table, with the food simply materializing underneath his palm wherever it passed.

Annie actually clapped. It was quite a show.

And then time was up. Kirk walked back over to the bar.

“And? How was it?” He asked with his usual blinding smile.

“Ahem, it was well done.” I said, slightly choked. “Screw well-done, that was a rare sight!”

“Ignore him.” Annie said. “Impressive work Kirk. You’re up Bimbleberry.”

We all turned to look at the gnome, who shuffled his feet a bit before nodding.

“Yes, I will endeavour to give you an equally impressive show!”

He took a deep breath and stepped onto the pub floor carrying a tray of beers. Which was unfortunate, as it blocked his vision from John’s strategically placed foot.

I winced, time to see how a professional Butler handled a professional Butthead.