Beers and Beards: A Cozy Dwarf Tale

The plate of cakes and other confections lay on the table, forgotten.

Which was how I could tell exactly how much our news had flummoxed Opal.

We were currently sitting in her study, which looked identical to most other dwarven studies. A pair of comfortable couches, a beer table, a work desk, a wall of books, a fireplace – with exactly two candlesticks, and an unadorned wall with exactly one painting of some greybeard on it.

Opal was dressed in dwarven formal–casual, a floor length white gown/hauberk with a leather belt and fancy silver bracers and pauldrons. Her white goatee was well trimmed around her soft features, and offset the large golden bangles she wore on each ear. She was the very picture of a dignified dwarven matron.

Urist had delivered us to her by a winding route through the mansion, and then bowed out to bring snacks. We’d chatted with Opal about the state of the tavern and Bran’s salty cooking, then moved into the reason for our visit.

She sat silently during my description of Lucky Jean’s book and treasure before she asked her first question.

“Pete, how confident are you of this?”

“Very. It was all quite convincing, but I’ll ask Richter ta go to City Hall and access the public record of tha Herders, just in case.”

“Good, that’s what I would have told you to do. You realize that even if this treasure hasn’t been found yet, it probably won’t be as impressive as you’re expecting? Since it's for a random future Chosen, it will most likely be something universally useful, like gold, or jewels.”

Opal sighed. “You know what I mean. Any seriously enchanted items probably would’ve been found by a routine sweep within Whitewall. Security there is incredibly tight, especially for a place like the Lyceum. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’ll get access to it without someone spotting you. It’s a terrible hiding place!”

I shrugged. “That’s why we came to you.”

Opal frowned. “I don’t know what you think I’d be able to do. Even my family isn’t powerful enough to be residenced in Whitewall. I have access to it, certainly, and I can take you to the Lyceum, but if you want to book it or spend any serious time staking it out, I can’t really help you.”

“Ach, slaggit.” I rubbed the back of my neck. At least we’d be able to scout the place out, and maybe something would come up.

Opal hesitated, then began haltingly. “Actually… I may have someone that can get you access. She’s a… family friend, of sorts. She may even be able to get you unfettered access to the Lyceum, but I don’t know what she’d want in return, or if she’d do it without knowing what’s going on.”

I indicated for Opal to continue, and after a dry gulp, she did.

“I think you met her once in Minnova already, at the Thirsty Goat. Her name’s Tourmaline, do you remember her?”

The image that popped into my head was of silver curls, a severe expression, and piercing umber eyes. A brilliant and beautiful [Toxicologist] with a sarcastic streak and a cutting sense of humour. It was also one of the names Barck had given me for his handpicked companions. Since those handpicked souls included Bran, Annie, and Whistlemop, I was predisposed to give her the benefit of the doubt. I knew Tourmaline’s family was from Crack, that her grandfather was influential, and Prophet Barnes was her Uncle.

The shoe dropped.

Prophet BARNES! As influential as the Blackbeards, Barnes!

I jumped to my feet. “Opal, that’s perfect! Praise be ta Barck and Midna! Do you really think she’d see us?”

“She, ah, mentioned in passing that she’s mildly interested in meeting you again. It seems you left a good impression the last time you met. Things are a bit volatile in the Capital right now though, so it might not – ”

“But she can!” I interrupted.

Opal nodded. “If she can’t do it, nobody can. Her grandfather is the Duke of the West, His Eminence Joshua Barnes.”

I twitched. Joshua had been the name of the lion-maned fellow who’d come to the pub with Prophet Barnes that one time. That boisterous jokester had been a Duke!? Ah, shit, it was quite possible, if not likely, that between their status and connection to Prophet Barnes that the Barnes clan would guess I was a Chosen Catalyst.

But… treasure, and they technically already knew us anyway. And Barck had vouched for Tourmaline, assuming she was the same person. I’d just… need to step carefully and read any contracts a hundred times.

“Please can ya ask her to see us, Opal?” I said, finally.

“I’m really not sure…”

I clenched my fingers together and begged like my soul depended on it. “Please, please, please?”

“Let me think for a moment! Agh! What are you, a bearded child!?”

“If that’s what it takes! PLEAAASE!?”

Opal pulled back as I got down on my knees and begged harder. After a tick Bran did the same, though with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Please, please, please!” I whimpered, edging forward.

“Please, please, please!” Bran huffed.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

With a defeated sigh, Opal gave her assent. “Fine! But on one condition! You do it here, and… and bring Annie with you when you come. I’ll have Butler Mcbuttle meet you at Blackwall’s south gate; Bran’s pass won’t be enough.”

“Huh? Why Annie?”

“Because… because it’ll be less intimidating if there’s more ladies around.” Opal hedged. “And I want to introduce them. I’ll ask later this week and send word when I hear back.”

Bran and I shared confused glances. Dwarfesses had never struck me as having maidenly modesty, but eh, whatever! The princess wanted more ladies at the party, the princess got more ladies.

We made smalltalk for another hour or so, and then I begged leave to go to my next appointment in Redwall.

—

I separated with Bran at the gate and made my own way to the inn that Berry had rented out for her entourage. She’d moved from the inn we’d stayed at the first night to a more centrally located set of digs near both the Academy and the event grounds she’d rented for her stage. She had some kind of sweetheart deal where the city got the use of her fancy traveling stage wagon, and she got to park it on city property.

The inn was called Wagonwheel’s and it was a fairly standard gnomish establishment. A lot of wood and glass, with doors that were just a bit too short and a total lack of beer. Metal tea-boxes lined the walls, and they even had a fancy espresso machine.

I was greeted by Amethyst at the door. The purple haired gnomess gave me a once over and raised an eyebrow. “Hello Pete. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

“Ah, I just wanted to talk to Berry. Something’s come up that I really think she needs to know about.”

"Berry’s busy right now.” Amethyst pointed down, indicating the basement.

"It's important. And kind of her ears only." I couldn’t outright tell Amethyst to pass on my information, unfortunately. While all the people at the Thirsty Goat knew what I was, and I’d kind of spilled the beans on Berry, I didn’t actually know how much Berry’s people knew.

Amethyst looked me up and down, then sighed. “Her meeting should last for another twenty minutes or so, and then she’ll be coming up for lunch. She has some professors from Archis Academy coming later this evening, so she won’t have much time.”

“That’s fine. I donnae think it'll take long.”

“Good. Is it about our collaboration? We’ve been mostly pitching Copperpot’s gnomish beers. I would’ve thought you’d want to start getting Berry to pitch your Liquid Gold again. Her shows are becoming quite popular with the professional wrestling crowd. And I think Copperpot has sold more beer to Kinshasa’s gnomes in the past month than everyone else in the entire history of Crack.” Amethyst practically preened with pride at Berry’s, and by extension her, success.

“Eh, aye, I could see that. It’s kind of about our collab, but it’ll be her ears only until she decides what to do with it.”

And they definitely were doing well, if my Gnomish Influencer Quest was any indication.

Quest: Gnomish Influencer Part 7/10!

The gnomes need your help. Influence 1,000,000 gnomes with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.

Gnomes influenced: 145,000/1,000,000

Rewards: Karmic Reversal x 1

It wasn’t ramping up quite as quickly as my Dwarven Influencer quest, and likely wouldn’t until we started shipping beer to the more gnomishly populated Eastern Crack. It was still nice to see the number going up with next to no work on my end. Delegation FTW as my daughter always used to say!

I took a seat by the fireplace and ordered a coffee. The waitress – a redheaded young gnomess in the most stereotypical tavern maid dress I’d ever seen – seemed shocked that a dwarf was ordering coffee, but brought it over with a smile.

Berry eventually emerged from the basement with – shock of shocks!!! – an actual elf! He was the tallest elf I’d ever seen, though still smaller than an average human, and he was dressed to the nines in red dress robes and a silken tunic and vest. His crimson hair was done up in a high pony-tail with long bangs that framed his face. The ensemble screamed ‘money’ and really made his green skin pop. He had a roughly human shape, though he was a bit too lanky and sharp-edged to pass for one. And a bit too short, of course. Honestly, he was pretty bang on the money for what I’d always assumed a fantasy elf would look like.

I admit I goggle-eyed as the two of them shared an intimate moment of discussion, the elf bending his head down to her level. Berry actually giggled at something the elf said! Then she saw me and her face immediately turned into a frown, her eyebrows pinching together like she had the start of a headache coming on.

Well excuuuuse me, princess!!!

The pair approached my table at the fireplace, and I stood to greet them.

“Berry.” I nodded.

“Pete.” She said. “Business, I assume? Can it wait? I want to eat lunch first. And I’m a little busy.”

She subtly jerked her head in the direction of the elf.

I grinned, broadly. Crease your eyebrows at me, ya whippersnapper!? “Aye, I’m not in any particular hurry. Can’t let my beloved partner go hungry,”

The elf raised two perfectly sculpted eyebrows and glanced at Berry.

“Business Partner!” Berry snapped, one eye twitching. She took a deep breath to center herself, then opened her hand to gesture at the elf. “Peter, this is Emissary Joseph Stannard. Joseph, this is Brewer Peter Roughtuff. He runs the Brewery that Copperpot is mooching off of.”

“Don’t let Copperpot hear you say that!” I chuckled.

Joseph gave me a two-fingered salute using his pointer and middle fingers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, mate! May Solen shine upon our meeting.”

I fairly rocked back on my heels as he spoke. The elegant creature before me, every speck the distinguished gentle-elf, sounded identical to a surfer bro!

I’d often wondered how elves would sound with my Ability to translate languages. So far there was a pattern to the accents: dwarves spake like Scots, Sourth Erden gnomes – Indian, Crackian gnomes – British, those educated at Archis Academy – Hints of Irish, Giants – Cascadian, South Erden dwarves – Nigerian, and rural folk – Redneck. It seemed to be based on my own internal biases, which still made me a bit uncomfortable.

As for the Elves, who lived primarily in the sunny tropical jungles of North Erden’s cape?

Kiwi. Kiwi! It took every inch of muscle in my body and my high Charisma to not burst into laughter.

“So,” I choked, “What brings you here, Emissary Stannard?” I made sure I was speaking dwarven, no need to let this guy know I could speak Elvish. Probably.

“This lovely lady.” The elf held a hand over Berry’s shoulder, not quite touching. “I happened to hear Berry’s music at an event, and I was enchanted.”

I stared agog as Berry actually blushed!

“Joseph is the Ambassador to Crack from the Elven Kingdom of Awemedinad.” She said, rubbing under her nose with a finger. “He’s also a very influential merchant.”

“Ay. My king seeks to improve trade between Awemedinad and Crack. He sent me to make it so.” The Ambassador smiled widely.

“Really?” My return smile was predatory. “How interesting.”

It wasn’t part of my schedule, but I could spare some time trying to convince a brah to import some brew.

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