Chapter 82: Shareholder
I sat in Annie’s office and spun a pencil around my index finger. It was a favourite trick of mine, and it had taken a while to get my thick dwarf paws to do it properly. Beside me, Aqua was trying to copy the motion, and I snickered as her pencil flipped up and smacked her in the nose. She scowled and shoved me, then got back to her paperwork.
I sighed and looked down at my own messy desk. If there was one thing I hadn’t missed from Earth, it was paperwork. Now that I was a shareholder of the Thirsty Goat, I had to do paperwork. At least, that's what Annie told me while she went galavanting off with my brother.
“Aqua, why is there fifty gold earmarked for ‘clothes shopping’?” I pointed at the offending column.
Aqua leaned over to look. “Because we still need proper shoes. Johnsson slipped again last week, and Annie thought it would be nice if we got some Thirsty Goat branded clothes. Oh, and work outfits. Especially since Ass-Blaster paraphernalia sells so well.”
“Ah, good! good! The student becomes the master!” I signed off on the expense and added it to my ‘out’ pile. Only five gajillion more sheets of paper to go. I shooed Penelope as she nibbled at the pile. ”No, Penelope. You can’t eat that.”
*maaaaaah!* [Translated from prima donna goat] “Mine!”
“No!! Bad Goat! That took me an hour to write!!!”
*meeeeeeh!!!* [Translated from prima donna goat] “This is vengeance for that poster!”
“NUUOOOOOHHHHH!!!”
I was saved as a muscled arm reached down and plucked Penelope off the ground with an offended bleat. I looked up at the jolly face of Jeremiah Goldstone. He was wearing a set of brown slacks and a white undershirt. A simple half-chest cuirass satisfied the need for armor and a tacklebox lay on the ground behind him. He flashed a toothy smile. He was looking a lot better now, though his face seemed to have aged fifty years in the past month.
“You need to behave, Penelope! Just because I’m not around doesn’t mean you have the run of the place. You know the rules!”
Penelope spun miserably in the air, held aloft by Jeremiah’s hand gripping her mane.
*meeeeeehh….* [Translated from prima donna goat] “The indignity…”
Jeremiah dropped Penelope and she pranced off with a pompous flick of her tail. We watched her go, and he chuckled. “I can see why Richter calls her princess.”
I pointed at the tacklebox. “Are you headed out?”
“Aye, I’m meeting Captain Morris at the east gate. We’re going to try and catch some fresh cave trout. Bran said he wants to make something you called sashimi.”
My mouth watered and I wiped it with my sleeve. “I wish you all the luck of Barck in your endeavors.”
As Jeremiah turned to go, he stopped and spun back around. “Pete.”
“Aye?”
“I wanted to say thank you. For everything. I didn’t trust you at first, yet you saved my brewery, my home, and my family. I am forever in your debt. I owe you a life boon.”
“You don’t need to do that!” I protested. Especially because I had no idea what a life boon was, and it sounded annoying. Plus… I was still miffed at Jeremiah. He was trying, but he was still persona non grata around the Goat. Partly forgiven, but not forgotten.
“You deserve it Pete. Ma' Annie still isn't really talkin' to me, but at least she says 'hello' now and again. I may have lost some trust, but I didn't lose my daughter. Thanks to you, I have enough spark left in me to make it up to her. Cheers!” Jeremiah saluted, and left me with one last bombshell as he walked out the door. “Also, your brother finally asked me if he could court Annie! I said yes!”
I bumped my desk and dozens of papers fell to the ground. “Wait!! WHAT!?”
—
A short while later I stood in the front entrance of a Grand Market Main Store. It was a rare two storey affair, with a stairwell leading up to a second floor that overlooked the front entrance. The shop on the main floor had a beer tasting and sales counter, and upstairs was converted into a glass emporium.
Whistlemop descended the stairs and gestured around with pride. “How is it?”
“I think you look better with that stupid red false moustache.”
Whistlemop scowled. “I mean the store.”
“It looks amazing! I especially like the enormous picture of your face hanging over the mezzanine!” I pointed at the garish logo.
“Doesn’t it look amazing?” Whistlemop sighed with pleasure.
“It’s fine.” I pulled at my beard. “And everyone in the city knows your face by now, so it’s an effective brand.”
“First Minnova, soon the world!” Whisltemop laughed maniacally.
“That’s a pretty big ambition for such a tiny gnome.”
“Bah! Not like you're much taller. Come in, I’ll show you around.”
Whistlemop led me on a tour of our new store, Whistlemop’s Emporium of Fine Goods and Beer. It had the solid feeling of dwarven construction with some subtle nods to gnomish tastes, like the wooden paneling and fine detail work. There was glass in the windows, and the interior was lit with a mix of purple light from outside and yellow solstones. Rune-inscribed glass refrigerators lined the walls of the bottom floor. They contained a mix of Thirsty Goat and other local Guild brews.
A chalkboard above the counter listed special beers of the week. Right now Ass-Blaster and the non-flatulent variant we’d named New Brew were the only things listed. I had high hopes for that chalkboard. I expected it to be filled with new beers and flavours as Minnova underwent a beer renaissance. Led by yours truly, of course.
The second floor was filled with Whistlemop’s old wares, a collection of vines, runestones, and other dungeon paraphernalia. I noticed a small collection of glassworks tucked against a corner and chuckled. It was a display case of uniquely shaped vases, marked down as clearance.
Surprisingly enough, our biggest moneymaker wasn’t the beer or the Whistlemugs, but the bottles. Every brewery in the city was buying bottles from us as fast as we could make them. The breweries were still only selling True and Light Brew, but they loved the versatility and potential of bottles. Malt’s brewery even had a sticker with a brand new logo on the front!
“It looks great!” I said after the tour ended.
“Doesn’t it? I can’t wait for opening day!” Whistlemop rubbed his hands together with glee then held up a finger in realization. “I have some more of your share if you want it.” He reached into empty air and pulled out a sack of coins.
I took the sack and similarly reached out into the air. “[Big Money]!” The bag vanished.
“You know, you don’t need to say the Milestone to activate it.” Whistlemop chortled. I briefly considered pushing him down the stairs.
[Big Money] was a Milestone both Whistlemop and I earned last week. We got it after our profits exceeded one hundred thousand silver in a single month. It gave us a small subspace pocket to store gold and other forms of cash. It wasn’t a complete substitute for a bank, but it beat a wallet.
I made out like a bandit in the last month, and not just in gold. I’d managed to increase my intelligence by one after several more lessons with Richter and Barnes, and all the pen twirling had nabbed me an additional dexterity. Between my previous rewards, a completed quest for winning the Grand Market auction, and some elbow grease, I had a pretty sweet stat sheet.
Status: Provided by The Firmament
Name: Peter Roughtuff Age: 49
Conditions: [Blessed]
Race: Dwarf
Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [Flash of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]
Title: [Otherworldly Brewer]
Milestones: [Power Pick], [White Lie], [Basic Slash], [Big Money]
Strength 15.2
Vitality 17.3
Agility 12
Dexterity 12
Wisdom 14.2
Intelligence 13
Perception 15.1
Charisma 12.2
After a little bit of shop talk I gave Whistlemop polite excuses and headed out. The Thirsty Goat family had a special dinner planned for tonight, but first came the dinner rush…
—
Later that night we all sat around one of the longer tables in the pub. Bran stood at the head of the table, expertly cutting slices of raw trout into sashimi. The pub had closed an hour before and the dishes were all done. We would have normally gone home, but the fish were fresh caught by Jeremiah and it seemed a shame to waste them. Trout usually isn’t safe for sushi, but Bran had a new Milestone called [Purify Food] to take care of that.
We just started eating when Annie and Balin arrived back at the brewery, arm in arm. Annie’s eyes were sparkling, and Balin had a goofy look on his face.
Aqua twigged to it first.
“YOU ASKED!” She screeched.
Annie blushed and nodded while Balin curled his beard with pride.
“SHE SAID YES!” Johnsson jumped up and tipped over his bench, knocking Richter to the floor as he did so. Richter swept Johnsson’s legs out from under him and the pair began to wrestle on the floor while the rest of us caught on.
The room broke into cheerful congratulations interspersed with outraged shouting. I made sure to get some friendly beats in on my bro, while Jeremiah scooped his daughter into a big hug. He gave Balin a friendly clasp on the shoulder and the two of them shared a nod. We made room at the table for the lovebirds, and Bran set up two new plates of sashimi.
“How did he ask?” Aqua demanded.
“He put on his Golden Armour and then sang me a ballad while standing atop a pile of gemstones” Annie sighed with pleasure at the memory. “He was awful.”
“It wasn’t that bad…” Balin grumbled.
“I dunno, I’ve heard you sing in the shower!” I shot back.
“Since we’re sharin’ happy news, I got some.” Bran interrupted, then blushed. “Opal is goin’ to be finished at the mine next year. City Hall says she’ll be back in Minnova by spring.”
“Are you goin’ to ask her too?” Balin asked, his hand clasping Annie’s.
Bran choked.
“I have something to announce as well." Jeremiah stood up, and raised his glass. “It’s been a long time coming, but I think now is as good a time as any. Annie, I’m proud of you. You’ve grown into something that I never could've imagined. Between the Pub and the Feud, you’ve proven that you’re more than capable of running this old place. Your mother would be overjoyed by the wonderful, incredible, dwarf you've become. So, I’m releasing my ownership of the Thirsty Goat to you. You’re in charge now, and nothing can change that. May Aaron bless your endeavours and Barck grant you luck.”
There was a shocked silence, and then Annie launched herself from her seat and clung onto Jeremiah in a massive bear hug. The rest of us erupted into applause.
I hopped up on the table and raised my glass. “It’s been a long half-year! What started as a small Thirsty Goat is now one of the most successful breweries in Minnova! We have new family, new friends, and new futures! We few stood against the powers that be and survived. Though the mighty sought to strike us down, we succeeded against all odds and brewed the first new brew in millennia! That doesn’t mean it’s time to rest on our laurels; now that everyone knows beer has potential beyond True Brew and Light Brew, we will bring forth a new age in brewing! May our beers and our beards be Blessed! Cheers!!” "CHEERS!!" *Meeeeh!!*
I choked up a bit. After all that hard work, we were finally on track to start making some real beers. I had so many more brews to introduce to everyone, and I couldn’t wait to get started.
In the back of my mind, thoughts of winning a certain Great Game and the faint possibility of going back home slipped a little further away.
Outside, the purple light of the great crystal shone down on the sleepless city of Minnova. Some dwarves cooked, others smithed, a few danced, and even fewer brewed. In darkness, a keg was placed down, and some malt boiled. In basements around Minnova the first craft brewers in ten thousand years took a chance, for better or for worts.
—
*tink*
*plink*
*plank*
*thunk*
“Argh, my toe!!!” The angry voice of Magelos Browning rang out in the darkness. He threw his pickaxe aside and nursed the foot he’d just hit with it. He raged in his heart. This wasn’t fair! He was an upstanding member of dwarven society! A pillar of the community! How dare those ungrateful bastards in the Guild toss him out! He’d been more than willing to pay that Whistlefop, what right did the City have to throw him into this - this - den of criminals!
“Watch where yer tossin’ that, eh?” A red-haired dwarf with an incredibly bushy beard complained. “I don’t need ta lose more o’ my sanity than I already have bein’ stuck in here with a daft bugger.”
Browning began to hotly retort, but held it back. A few tussles with Sam had revealed the futility in that endeavor.
Sam walked up the tunnel and smacked him on the shoulder. “Now hurry up, we’ve only got another hour before they set tha’ next charges. Did I tell you ma’ boy Pete invented them?” He chuckled with pride.
Oh yes… Browning knew that name. He cursed it every day and every hour that he was stuck in this Godsforsaken place. They even served that Netherborne monster's radler with every damn meal in here!!! It was an outrage!!! It would only take a decade or two, but he would be out, and he would have his revenge!
“You’ve got such a dour look, Browning! Liven up! I can’t imagine another six months here with ya if yer goin’ to be such a sour-puss. Come on, sing with me!”
Sam broke into a merry ditty, his slightly off-tune voice a grating throb in Browning’s ears. The plink of axes, the thunder of minecarts, and the cheerful voices of dwarves echoed through the mine.
Brothers in the dive rejoice!
Swing, swing, swing with me.
Raise your pick and raise your voice!
Sing, sing, sing with me.
Down and down into the deep,
Will we find Tiara's Keep?
Diamonds, mithril, gold and more,
Hidden in the mountain store!
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole.
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole!
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole.
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole!
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