Chapter 74

When Will You Leave?

Hawkin

My days were full. Most of my time on the ethereal plane was spent leveling up my newest and weakest skills. Water was an important resource and It was easier to wade in the river and brew from there than to sit upon the bank. My day on the plane was soon ending and I had maybe one last brew left. I activated my skills.

[Brewer’s Harvest. Level 450]

[Brewer’s Bubble. Level 15]

[Mash Master. Level 262]

[Brewer’s Chill. Level 242]

[Flash Ferment. Level 235]

Barley seeds flew from my inventory by the hundreds and plunked into the river bank. The seeds germinated, sprouted, and the grass matured in mere moments. The kernels were plucked away and malted en route to my inventory. Hop vines lashed out onto the river bank and hill beyond. The ready cones broke off their stems and came sailing toward me, delivering piney and viciously resinous aromas that buffeted me.

The tepid water gently flowed by and made small surfs around my knees. With Brewer’s Bubble active, I raised the hand that guided the skill. Water rose like a reversing splash and then collected into a thick laminar stream that grew into a sphere in mid-air. Sunlight danced through the clear sphere. Water ripple at the top and cast rippling shadows upon the river. With a sweep of my hand that guided the Mash Master skill, I drew grain from my inventory. The barley flew single file into the floating sphere of water. Everything came to a simmer and steam rose to the blue sky. When the color of the wort looked sufficient, I lifted Brewer’s Bubble from the grain. The spent barley fell to the river and floated downstream.

I manually added hops and brought the wort to a boil. With that same hand, I dropped my focus on Mash Master and used Brewer’s Chill. Water condensed on the outside of the sphere and began dripping off. After manually adding brewer’s yeast, I used flash ferment, slowly closing my fist to speed up the process.

Still using Brewer’s Bubble, I lifted the liquid from the sediment and particles, and guided the stream of beer into a 500ml amber bottle.

I corked the bottle just in time to blink and find myself back in my cabin.

I lit a candle and descended the ramp to my cellar. Thrush was grinding his merchant skills with Boggo, who scampered away as soon as candlelight fell upon him. The blue bestie’s affairs were scattered in piles around a blue nest of fur.

Thrush’s colossal eyes gleamed in the low light. So did his fangs in a horrific smile.

“Welcome back,” Thrush said. “You smell like the ethereal plane.”

“It’s still odd to spend an entire twenty four hours there, only to return without feeling the slightest bit tired. Sorry if I’m interrupting,” I said.

“You came at a good time.”

I added the beer to my collection. Thrush and I chatted over what to eat for lunch as we came up out of the cellar and out of the cabin.

We decided to go down to the sea for a brief walk. Thrush was eager to share all the headway he was making with his class. I was impressed with the speed at which he was leveling. His inventory management was leveling insanely fast since he was able to carry an unfathomable amount of weight without penalty.

“If you ever empty your inventory, you’re going to feel like you’re floating,” I said.

“We had a beer for that,” Thrush said. “Maybe you can clone it.”

“When I’m silver ranked.”

We laughed back and forth on the way down to the sea. The trail was still a bit muddy, but better off since the snow had melted. When we reached the sumac, it began to drizzle. The day had warmed a tad, but a sweater was still warranted.

When we neared the shore, I saw a guard of orcs at the end of our trail. Beyond them was a sight that froze me in place. An architecture of timber and gears encased a rotating drill that plunged into the sea. Orcs upon scaffolding manually turned gears that drove the drill. There were other drills. One had just been removed, and a team of orcs heaved a massive log into the newly dug hole. The logs were being installed in neat rows and columns that spanned a length of the coast. Two distinct rows stretched out to sea.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

“They’re building,” Thrush said with calm curiosity.

I approached the orcs and they moved to intercept me from passing through.

“State your business,” an orc said.

“I’m Hawkin,” I said with a bite of frustration. “What the hell is going on here?”

“We’re building a port. What’s it look like? What’s your business here? Delivery?”

“When did this start?”

“Couple days ago.”

Since the orc was talkative, I pressed him for as much information as I could.

The orcs had been planning to build a port for sometime. I was certain GloomGlower must have known. The more I spoke with the orc, the angrier I became. When asked if I could pass through, the orc denied me access. They now had control of the coast.

“This is our territory,” the orc said. “Non-orcs aren’t allowed through. Only goblins making deliveries.”

I was speechless at that point and I had to walk away. I had to gather my thoughts and remove myself, lest my anger get the better of me. I didn’t want to pitch Thrush and I into battle once again.

At some point, Thrush said, “what do you want to do about it? I can eat them all.”

My head was spinning with fury. I returned to the cabin, picked up my axe, and divided wood. Thrush accompanied me. He ate dreambons and smoked fish while I fumed. He napped while I threw myself into my task.

By late afternoon, my sweater and shirt had been cast aside and I was drenched in sweat. My anger now simmered instead of boiled. I panted heavily from strenuous labor. I muttered a curse and threw down my axe.

Thrush stirred and woke up, only to begin eating once more. I sat with him when he offered me a dreambon. I confided in him. I shared my thoughts on producing a Mist Hidden attribute beer. I was distressed between the option to search for the cowbell root, and the option to stay instead.

“It’s clear to me now,” I said. “I have to go find that root.”

“That’s the only way?” Thrush said.

“Maybe not the only way, but I think it’s the best way.”

“When will you leave?”

“I’d like to level up my skills enough to brew at least one gallon at a time with my weakest skill, which is Brewer’s Bubble. I’m not far from that. Maybe a week?”

“You’re leaving in a week,” Thrush said. “I’m sorry you have to leave the forest. I know you love it here. I’d say you like living here as much as I like smoked fish.”

I cracked my first smile since running into the barricade of orcs.

Thrush continued.

“Learning how to smoke fish was one of the best things I’ve experienced in my long life,” he said wistfully. “A true gift.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “You're welcome to eat everything while I’m gone. It will be some time before I return. I’ll never fault you or hold it against you if you decide to leave. You have no obligations here.”

“What about the brewery?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve been training BarnacleEyes to brew goblin spit beer and she’s gotten quite the hang of it so far. She can brew the lowest quality there is, but the goblins don’t seem to mind that some of the batches are inferior.”

“You’ll be leaving all this to BarnacleEyes?”

“Under no obligation. You as well.”

“But you’d rather stay here,” Thrush said.

“Desperately,” I muttered.

“How long will you be gone, exactly?”

“Maybe a year. Maybe more. I can’t travel as fast as you can.”

“I do travel fast, don’t I? It’s a shame I’m not the one going on this adventure. I could be Thrush, the fastest traveling merchant!”

“I would never ask something like this from you,” I said. “This is my burden.”