Beers and Beards

Book 3: Chapter 66: Coins

Rumbob had given me a dirty look, and kept passing drinks my way, but I was better at the game than him, and it was 4v1. Even with all his drinking Abilities and high Vitality, he wasn’t able to keep up. With a groan he toppled like a tree. The crowd roared their approval as Kirk appeared like a ghost and dragged the rotund dwarf away.

When the size of the bet had spread through the crowd, the majority of the other pong players had come to circle our table. They shouted encouragement and jeers, and imprecations about skipping out on work. That last had been from Aqua, and I’d ignored it.

The drink of choice was, of course, our doppelbock.

Though with a twist. I wanted something special for this party, so we were using a barrel of my secret reserve: an Eisbock.

Eisbocks were the ultimate in high ABV beers, at an estimated 30% alcohol. They were made by cooling a bock until the water in it froze out in a chunk at the top. The alcohol, with its lower freezing point, remained. Remove the ice, and voila! Ice - bock! I’d eschewed the soporific hops and smoke for this batch, no need to knock everyone out in the first round!

Drum was surprisingly capable, and had managed three full mugs already. He was swaying and swearing like a sailor each time he missed the center cup, but he was still upright!

Bando sank his coin and smugly passed me the mug as the crowd cheered.

My eyes narrowed and I gave him a death glower as I drained the mug, catching his gold coin in my teeth. He laughed and muttered something to Birch, who guffawed. Little ingrate. Someone needed a reminder about whose gold he was betting!

Play passed to Birch, who calmly sank her golden disc, and passed the mug to Drum. He tipped the mug back, then began choking as the disk caught in his throat. He managed to horck it up, but not before his eyes rolled up and he passed out.

I demurely fished the disc out of his mouth and passed it to Birch. Then I thumped my own coin violently down on the table. It glittered and spun high into the air. As it fell, I stared through it, catching Bando’s gaze with my own glare. He gulped as the coin splashed into the cup and I ticked my head at it. “Go on Bando. Pick it up.”

And then there were two.

The crowd pushed in from all sides, and the noise was deafening, but all my attention was fully on the worthy opponent before me.

Birch brushed ‘dust’ from her shoulder in a gesture that somehow came across as sultry. She adjusted her gown and smirked. “Well, well. It seems that it’s now just the two of us. Are you prepared?”

I cracked my neck. “I was born ready!”

She flicked her disc down and it bounced, landed on the edge of the glass, then tottered and fell to the table. She frowned as the crowd jeered at her. “Your turn.”

I leaned back comfortably in my own chair and lazily bounced my own golden coin into the mug. I gestured at it. She nodded the point and picked up the mug. Then, to my surprise, she stood and chugged the entire drink in less than a second. Then she spat the coin down onto the table where it spun briefly before clattering onto its side. I stared at her in shock as she posed, then sat back down.

The crowd stared briefly, then broke into raucous cheers.

Then it was her turn. Her face turned serious as she lined up her shot, and took it. The coin landed in the glass without even hitting the edge, and the cheering turned into laughter.

I took the mug, drained it, and spat the disc back onto the table. Birch and I locked eyes, then began tossing coins and draining mugs in earnest.

Time passed, the crowd grew larger, though quieter, and somehow…. we were still tossing coins. I’d thrown up at least once, and Birch could barely stand, but we were still sinking nearly half our shots, and neither of us had screwed up a chug yet.

“Yer - yer a worthly opponent.” I muttered drunkenly, as I lined up my shot. It bounced and flew somewhere into the garden. There were distant screams of “IT’S RAININ’ GOLD!” “BEST PARTY EVER!” and someone from the crowd mutely passed me another coin.

“The worth *hic* orthy-est.” Birch hiccupped, flicking her disc down. It landed on the table, though nowhere near the mug.

“So whas’ tha disc?” I asked, endeavoring to line up my next shot. With a grunt I smacked the coin down and it bounced into the cup with a clatter.

“’S nothin’ too special.” Birch said offhandedly, as she drained the mug. “I’ve got millions like it. That one’s sentimental though.” She swayed as she finished the mug, and nearly dropped it as she placed it down.

“Rich lady, eh?” I rose to my feet with a laugh. “Good thing! You missed the coin! You lose!”

Birch winked at me and stuck her curled tongue out. The coin was stuck in a pink fold, and she waggled her eyebrows as she tongued it out. “Nope!”

The crowd and I both groaned as she took her turn and missed the mug. I managed to get her to drink two more beers before she got me again.

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“Are you from Kinshasa?” I asked, trying to keep my mind sharp. I almost went the way of Drum, choking on the damn disc, but managed to cough it up onto the table. I absentmindedly used [Spot Clean] on the mess. I missed my shot and gestured for her turn.

“No.” She said. Her voice was inviting though, and her eyes twinkled. She had… very pretty eyes, now that I was looking at them. They looked like windows into the cosmos, deep and dark. I could fall into those eyes… “I’m from elsewhere. What about you? Minnova, right?”

She missed her shot, and I had a few seconds to think about an answer as the crowd found her disc and passed it over. “I’m from farther out originally, but I consider Minnova my home away from home.”

“That’s nice. Not all who wander find a home.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” I grunted, as I sank another shot. “Your turn.”

“What’re yer plans?” Birch asked. “After tha - tha contest. Will ya stay?”

I blearily considered her for a minute before answering. At the crowds insistence, I took a shot as well. It didn’t even make it to the lip of the mug. “I dunno. I have things I want to do.”

“Sounds fun.” Birch licked her lips.

After a few more throws, Birch begged leave to use the washroom, and I acquiesced. The point wasn’t to lose from a burst bladder, after all.

A rough feminine voice interrupted from behind me as Birch sashayed away. “Who’s your friend?”

“Birch.”

“She’s pretty.”

I stared in the direction that the green bearded dwarfess had disappeared. “Uh huh.”

A sudden silence stretched, and I felt ice creeping up my back. I turned around, barely keeping from toppling over. Behind me was Tourmaline, dressed in simple but clean ochre plate, and a dwarf I recognized as her grandfather.

The Duke.

SHIT!

“Nice party, Pete.” Tourmaline continued archly.

“Hallo Brewer Samson!” The duke gave me a fist bump like some, regular dwarf. He was flanked by two nervous looking cloaked dwarves with long white beards. A trio of plainclothes security kept any drunken revelers from bumping into them.

I blinked. Why was the Duke here??

Tourmaline and her Grandfather completed the basic social niceties, then moved away in the direction where Harmsson was sitting with his entourage.

My drunken brain was screaming trying to guess why the Duke was at my party. He wasn’t unwelcome per se, but the general populace weren’t exactly happy with the nobility right now. Heck, some of the dwarves here were downright hostile. We had enough security that I wasn’t worried, but what if the Duke tried something! Like having his own personal guards attack Harmsson or something equally horrifying!

Maybe he just liked beer?

Unfortunately, at this point I was a bit too drunk to figure it out. Besides, Birch had come back, and our play immediately resumed.

We continued making idle chit chat, all of it pointless information. We were both too sloshed to focus on anything more serious.

Then, as Birch was forced to drink another mug of Eisbock, Penelope bumped her chair legs from beneath the table. Birch’s elbow slipped, and the remaining beer, along with my coin, sloshed out and onto the table.

There was stunned silence in the audience, followed by a very unladlylike curse from Birch.

I’d won!

I’d won! Haha! Urgh! Gugh!

I held my hand over my mouth as I stood to give her a fist bump. She hiccuped as she reached across the table to return it. “That was imp – impr - cool.” I slurred, pointing at Rumbob’s still unconscious form. “Ya did bett’r than him. Are you a champ drinker here fer tha contest too?”

“You could say that…” Birch’s voice was slurred as well, but her smile was sharper than a cat’s. “I’ve certainly never lost a drinkin’ contest.”

“That’s only because you’ve never faced me.” I retorted. “And my butter.”

She gave me a blank look, then laughed. “Yes, that’s true! We’ll need to do that next time!” She stood steadily to her feet and gestured at the items on the table. “Your winnings.”

She was growing sober before my eyes and I goggled at her. She straightened her clothes and brushed herself off, then spun on her heels and sauntered away.

As the grumble charged in to slap me on the back and congratulate me, she vanished into the mass of dwarves.

“Hey, wait!”

Her voice came back strangely crisp, as though it was being transmitted directly into my mind. It cracked like mountains and had the weight of eons behind it.

*WATCH YOUR MINIMAP CAREFULLY TONIGHT. MY LUCK BE WITH YOU, PETER*

I struggled to stand, drunk as I was, and promptly toppled sideways into a laughing trio of Adventurers. On the table before me, a blue coin, a black stick, two gold coins, and a hollow golden disc.

*Bing!*

Milestone Gained!

For defeating one of the eight Gods of Erd in a game you have completed a Milestone. Please choose from one of the four following Abilities.

I pushed the prompt aside and goggled at the center of the disc, where the glowing white gem had been a moment before, then shoved through my adoring well wishers. Birch was gone, nowhere to be seen

As I looked wildly about the garden, a hand thumped onto my shoulder. It was heavy, and it felt unfriendly. But when I looked back, the only dwarf standing there was Lord Harmsson. He was wearing his fine business armor, and still carried his impressive cane. He was smiling, though for some reason the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello Peter. What an incredible party!” He said, bowing at the neck. “I was surprised to see the Duke here. He and I had an… illuminating talk.”

“Oh, ‘zats good. I\'m zorry, but I’mma bit busy - ”

“Yes. It helped me come to a decision.” He interrupted. His gaze was sharp as he looked me up and down.

“Uh huh?”

“Do you mind if I do my speech now? I’d like to do it while the night is young.”

“Sure? Just wait till Berry’s done… she likes ta’ hog tha’ limelight.”

Harmsson’s smile thinned and his gaze sharpened. His tone started unsteady but grew firmer as he spoke. “An interesting turn of phrase. ‘The Limelight’? I’ve never heard of that before. I… I hope you have a wonderful night, Mr. Roughtuff. Honestly, from all I’ve heard you’re a fine dwarf and you deserve some good times. Eat, drink, and be merry. I know I will remember this evening for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I gave him a polite bow. Didn’t fall over. And toddled off to find my [Healer]. Richter! Help me! I haven’t been this drunk in years!!!