Book 2: Chapter 41: The Guild Vote
Malt called the meeting to order with an ear-splitting shout. He gave me a wink as everyone sorted themselves.
“It’s a Milestone ya get fer anything involving parties or managing folk,” he confided. “[Project Voice]. Browning has an evolved version strong enough ta shatter glass n’ stone.”
I nodded. “Oh, I got offered that once.”
“What did ya take instead?”
“[Bottomless Barrel].”
“Now why would ya need that? There’s always more than enough ta drink.”
“Eh, I think we’ll need to agree to disagree on that one.”
“It’s completely unacceptable! The Sacred Brew is a dwarven tradition!” The emerald-haired dwarfess exclaimed when the din dropped enough for her to be heard.
Several of the brewers bristled, and muttonchops actually spat. “You think gnomes aren’t as deservin’ of our Sacred Brew as any dwarf, Master Caskit? When they helped build this city!?”
“Hear, hear! Well said, Master Stonetusk!” A blonde haired dwarf beside Stonetusk pumped his fist and cheered. That was Master Brewer Bristleburr. Annie had him marked down as one of our six supporters.
“Our ancestors never allowed gnomes to brew. Should we really be the ones to break that tradition?” The ginger twin harrumphed, though he appeared more contemplative than combative. I put him down as a ‘maybe’.
“The gnomes have always been willing to allow us to become Baristas. Isn’t it about time we allowed them to become Brewers?” A hooded dwarf grumbled. “It would be in the spirit of the Octamillenial.”
Beside me, Rudd was counting on his fingers. He whistled when he reached the end of his calculations. “It’s much higher than a 75% increase in sales. We’d be the only brewers serving gnomes in all of Crack. For a while at least.”
A cloaked figure actually began choking, and their neighbour patted them on the back until they spat up a chicken bone. “Dear Gods! The potential gold!!”
“Who cares about the potential gold!” A white haired dwarfess pulled her hood back. I immediately recognized her as Master Brewer Zirce Icewhite - her clan was named after their signature white hair. “This is about holding fast to our traditions!”
Another hooded brewer put up his hand. He had a quavery voice, but a lot of these codgers did, so I couldn’t tell who it was from that. “Goldstone. You mentioned the Pot corporation. I know them. Aren’t they a tea company?”
Drum snorted. “They stopped bein’ a simple tea company near a thousand years ago, Master Cimon. Mebbe you should take a minecart out of yer cave more than once a century.”
Malt held his hand up for order as arguing broke out again. “Now that we know the gist of it, let young Goldstone tell us the specifics.” He yielded to Annie who stepped forward, her eyes full of a confidence I was pretty sure she didn’t feel.
“As of yesterday we have a beer that a majority of the gnomes we’ve spoken to find more than acceptable. Some declared it superior to coffee.” Well, Beatbox had, but he loved regular Sacred Brew so I wasn’t putting much stock in his opinion.
There was a shocked murmur from the Master Brewers, though a few still had complaints.
“It had better not cause farts this time.” A hooded dwarf shouted.
Caskitt rolled her eyes. “OBVIOUSLY the Sacred Brew is superior to coffee!”
Annie ignored them and continued. “We entered talks with the Pot company to join us in a subsidiary position, much like when a branch clan or trusted ally is given brewing rights within a specific city. As per the Country of Crack Ordinances, Chapter 956, Section 23, Subsection 2, gnomes may not become Brewers, but in this case they wouldn't be Brewers, they would be labourers within a dwarf administered facility. I’ve worked it out, and it’ll all be legal and above board.”
“It’s cuttin’ the spirit of the law, is what it is…” Caskitt hissed.
Rudd held up his hand. “Then why even bother with tha gnomes, eh? We could do it all on our own. I’m not sure about using a gnomish subsidiary, but I’m all for bringing the glory of beer to the gnomes.”
There was a general murmur of agreement, even from some of the earlier naysayers.
“None of us are properly set up to serve gnomish clientele,” Annie smoothly quoted from our pre-prepared answers. She and I had been up late the past week preparing for expected questions and going over who was who. “The Pot corporation has the trust of the gnomish community, and the network to make gnomish beer a success from the beginning. They’ve agreed to throw all their weight behind this, and have put up a significant amount of capital to ensure it succeeds. Do any of you truly believe that gnomes will buy beer from you, even if it was in a form they found palatable?”
Another quavery voice emerged from a hooded dwarf down the table. It was so dry and dusty that just hearing it made me think of ancient leather tomes coated in dust. I guessed it had to be the oldest of the Master Brewers, Master Brewer Finn Rockwood. “I’ve always felt bad that they couldn’t appreciate our most Sacred Brew. How did you manage it?”
According to Jeremiah, Finn Rockwood had pushed for innovation in brewing when he was young and full of fire, and we had him on our ‘possibles’ list.
Annie yielded to me, and I stepped forward. “I used a coffee adjunct, specifically cold-brew, and changed the erdroot malt to a mix of wheat, erdroot, and some other ingredients that I’ll be happy to share with the guild if our bid to join is successful.” None of these dwarves were using a cold-break step so I didn’t mention it. The drink would taste acceptable to gnomes regardless, but ours would have an edge. “When combined with the use of one of my Abilities, the bitter flavour of the coffee matches perfectly with the beer, and leaves a smooth aftertaste.”
“You ADDED ingredients to the Sacred Brew!?” Caskitt cried, aghast. A hooded brewer next to her fainted dead away. Hadn’t that happened last time too?
“Get off yer goat, Caskitt!” Another dwarfess called out. She was still hooded, but based on the sky-blue beard I could see sticking out, she had to be Master Brewer Daimonsdotter Fault. She was the eldest next to Master Rockwood. Annie had already convinced her to help us back into the guild.
I smiled sweetly “It’s nothing like the Sacred Brew. And besides, we simply took our cue from the Honourable Guild of Brewers, whose decision to add Lily Leopard Liver Oil to our brew was responsible for rekindling a love for drinking in Minnova, and brought a great deal of gold into our pockets. We do thank the Guild for their wisdom in that matter! It inspired us to try adding other ingredients.” I gave a small bow.
Drum, Rudd, Rockwood, Malt, and Stonetusk roared with laughter. Master Brewer Icewhite turned white as her hairand Master Brewer Cimon began angrily penning something down on a notepad.
Master Fault cackled as well, her mirth causing her hood to fall back and reveal a wrinked face framed by a braided sky-blue beard. Crowseyes and smile-lines etched her skin. “Well said, lad. I still think that entire episode was absolutely shameful. Imagine, asking a father to betray his own clan and daughter! I consider it the darkest day in our history, and this gnomish brew nonsense is our fitting punishment. Let it happen! Our ancestors were Barckian spirits nearly to the dwarf, and we should celebrate innovation when it happens! Mayhaps our descendants will look back on these days and celebrate it just as we celebrate the creation of the Sacred Brew. And, young Goldstone, I offer my beard to you in shame.”
With that, the old dwarfess pulled a dagger out of her belt, and sheared off the bottom braid of her beard. She then tossed it across the table, where it spun to a stop in front of Annie.
There was a sudden deathly silence.
Annie picked up the lock of hair with a shaking hand, she looked at it with awe, as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Eventually, she cracked out, "I accept your shame, greybeard."
The silence was broken.
"Why!?" “Fer Crack and Minnova!” “how could you!?” “Cheers to that!”"Daimonsdotter!?"
“SHADDUP!” Malt roared with [Project Voice] again. “Is there anything more?”
Annie nodded as she put the lock of hair in her satchel. “The brew, which we’re calling Barista Brew - in honour of our gnomish cousins - also grants an energy boost similar to coffee, but is much more palatable to dwarves. It is not the Sacred Brew, and looks very different - it merely uses a lot of the same techniques. We believe it will be very popular with adventurers, as well as the Highwatch and the Army.” She heavily inflected the last few words and several of the brewers' expressions turned gravely serious.
“Does it truly have military applications?” Rudd asked with a hoarse whisper.
“Aye. It does.” Drum spoke up. “I’ve already been given tha spiel. I was the one that recommended it fer the army, actually. I think it’ll be more useful for the Highwatch on the long road, but it’ll definitely get raw recruits up in a hurry, dontchaknow.”
I’d had the idea of pitching it to adventurers after some of Balin’s complaints. But it had been Drum who’d recommended the other two.
Rudd and a few other dwarves, including the ginger bearded Master Crackle looked contemplative.
I decided to sweeten the pot with our final card. “Raspberrysyrup has agreed to help advertise the new brew during her shows. She’s completely on board, and would be willing ta pitch any Barista Brew you lot end up makin’ as well.” Well, I hoped she would be. I’d sent her a letter about it, and gotten back a simple, “Berry says sure, whatever,” from Aqua.
One of the remaining hooded figures twitched, and Master Rockwood whistled.
Malt coughed to catch everyone’s attention instead of assaulting us with his ability again. “You lot heard them. In return for the recipe for Barista Brew, Annie Goldstone seeks entry to the Honourable Guild of Brewers. Hands up for ‘aye’.”
I held my breath. It was the moment of truth…
Six hands went up immediately - our ‘allies’. Drum, Malt, Bristleburr, Stonetusk, Fault, and by process of elimination, the hooded Master Bounder. Then Master Rudd slowly raised his hand, followed a beat later by Master Rockwood.
Eight. We had EIGHT. One more, come on, one more! I prayed for luck, to Barck, to Tiara, to anybody! Jesus! Yearn! Dionysis! Whatever!!!
Then Master Crackle raised his hand. Caskitt gasped, and the dwarf who'd choked earlier shouted angrily, “it’s a lotta gold, but gold’s just gold!”
“It’s not just the gold!” Crackle snapped. “Me sister’s in the Highwatch! You lot forget that for us smaller clans, our families have lives outside our Breweries. If Drum thinks this could help bring her back alive, I want it. Do you even know how many energy potions a Highwatch team gets on a patrol!? Not enough!!”
Malt counted twice, then clapped Annie on the back. “Welcome back to the Guild, Young Goldstone. Or I guess it’s just Goldstone now. You’ll need ta earn tha Master Brewer part! Ha!”
A lot of things happened at once:
The Brewers burst into applause, angry shouts, and thrown food.
Annie went ramrod straight, her eyes getting the faroff look of someone reading through notifications. Then she smiled, “I got a Blessing! From Barck, for ‘Successful Innovation in Cultural Business Practices’!! I can finally become an [Inventor]!! Oh and Aaron too.”
I also got a string of notifications.
*Bing!*
Stat Increased: [Charisma]!
Your charisma has increased by 1! Your new charisma is 17.4!
*Bing!*
Quest Complete: Guildsman
Back to where you started! Are you progressing, or backsliding?
Rewards: [Thick Skin]
*Bing!*
Quest Complete: Gnomebody to Love Pete
Finally! An officially sanctioned gnomish brewery!
Rewards: [Friend: Gnomes]
*Bing!*
Specialisation Possible!
Please select 5 Milestones to combine into a Specialisation!
Merge Milestones?
Yes/No
I chose 'No'; I didn't have enough brewing Milestones to make a second Specialisation worth it yet, and Barck had recommended waiting for [Pete's Poor Manasight] to get it.
And then a moment later Annie screamed, “BY BARCK’S BEARD, I GOT A PERSONALIZED MILESTONE!!”
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