Chapter 21

Beneath the Rain

Brewer’s Reputation: 600,561.

Dark rain clouds thundered overhead.

Abigail poured a libation of her gold rank ale in the middle of the clearing. A soapy bubble grew from the splashing foam. The more she poured, the more the bubble expanded. It grew so large that it passed over her and wobbled. The bubble chased Barnacle-eyes out of the clearing. It passed over the cabin and then Thrush who chuckled like a collapsing cavern.

Abigail poured another one. By the last drop of the second bottle, the soapy bubble had grown so large that it domed the clearing and some perimeter of the forest. It wobbled when thunder rumbled again.

Abigail showed her biggest smile. The joy that the attribute beer brought her was contagious enough that I smiled with her. Thrush cocked his head in wonder. Barnacle-eyes poked the bubble from the other side.

“Is it dangerous?” The goblin hollered.

“No, not dangerous,” Abigail said.

“I wanna pop it!”

“You can try.”

Barnacle-eyes had her rusty pliers in hand and she snapped them at the bubble. Every strike she made caused little pops, but the bubble remained intact. She soon tired and put a hand through, then walked through; the bubble wobbled.

Abigail approached me, rubbing foam from her hands. She chuckled and turned her sky blue eyes to me.

“Love that beer,” she said.

“What is it?” I said.

“Weather Or Not attribute.” Another roll of thunder boomed. The foliage quivered when the drizzle touched the forest. Millions of ripples abounded the bubble. Rivulets formed and cascaded off. It rained harder. The clearing stayed dry. Abigail’s laughter rang with joy. She shouted over the din, “I love the rain!”

Thrush had his head tilted back. His jaw hung open as he watched the bubble dance. He made his way to his smoker and put a paw to the hot metal. His flesh sizzled. “My smoker can stay dry!” He bellowed. “I can smoke fish all the time now!”

He wore his biggest smile. It was a monstrous smile. A show of fangs before a dark tunnel of throat.

Then suddenly-

[New 3-objective quest: Brew Ethereal Dungeon beer.]

[1st objective: Brew and donate your highest quality beer with goddess Dellia Lucene.]

[Reward: Lesser Ethereal Dungeon Core.]

[2nd Objective: Create a new Ethereal Beer Recipe using Lesser Ethereal Dungeon Core.]

[Reward: 5 uncommon Planes Cutter loot chests.]

[3rd objective: Use your Clone Ethereal Beer skill and fulfill 500 gallons.]

[Reward: Shard quest.]

“There’s that look again,” Abigail said, leaning in so that I could hear over the din of rain. “Is that another dreaded traveling quest, or something feasible?”

“You saw right through me,” I said. “This one doesn’t involve travel. It’s a three-objective quest.”

“Sounds about right,” she said. “Silver rank quests. The more you level and rank up, the more involved quests become. What is it?” When I told her, she reacted with a nod and wide eyes. “I thought you weren’t up for that sort of adventure?”

“I’m not. If it’s the type of dungeon you and I are familiar with, then I won’t be interested in exploring it myself.”

“How will your goddess feel about that?”

“She’ll tell me how she feels when the time comes.”

Barnacle-eyes was getting restless. Abigail walked with her to the edge of tilled earth where the black cohosh sprouted. They began to till more earth together. Barnacle-eyes with her hands and nails; Abigail with an attribute beer.

I put myself by the firepit and began dividing lumber. I planed the wood with my axe and began piling planks for my log house. After I’d been able to cut and plane 12 boards, I heard the smoker door clang shut. Thrush came over and sat upon the log beside me.

“I’m eating yellow stripe carp,” he said. “Tastes muddy and fatty. I like fatty fish. They hold onto the smoke better than other fish.”

What he shared with me, I devoured. “You’re right,” I said.

“What are they doing?”

“Abigail wants to plant flowers until the clearing is like an overflowing bouquet. Barnacle-eyes is helping her.”

“Abigail gave me many flowers to eat. Do you think she’s planting them for me?”

“I think they're for her. She wants to enjoy her time here and I don't mind. She misses her garden.”

“Not for me then,” Thrush muttered.

“Don’t eat her,” I said. Thrush’s eyes throbbed. He looked at me with a blank face. “Here, I’ve got something for you if you want to eat flowers.”

Thrush’s ears pricked. I withdrew several different coils of hops on the vine. The beast put his twitching snub nose to each one and inhaled deeply. Then he devoured them one by one and reported what his Composition discovered.

“The jungle-green hops are called El Delta. They taste like wood and the sumac tea you make sometimes. Then we have swirling hops; spicy and sour. These other ones are Pride of Quartz Valley; oily and minty. Next we have Lunstad hops; herbal and earthy. Then Armadillo; resinous and melony. The smaller ones are Smurgard; woody and bitter orange peel. The yellow-ish ones are Witland hops; fruity and sweet pine.” Thrush plopped one last fast hop into his mouth and chewed. His eyes pulsed once more and he waited for his Composition to digest information. “The last one is Keese; floral.”

“I appreciate this,” I said. “I’m one coil away from finishing a collection quest.”

Thrush’s belly rumbled. Both Abigail and Barnacle-eyes looked to the dark thunder clouds. Thrush licked his lips and asked, “do you have anymore for me to eat? I like trying new things.”

I brought out a handful of holy colored ethereal grains, then ghost colored hops. Though the ingredients were inanimate, the colors that made them moved like auroras. Thrush’s jaw dropped. Saliva stretched in strings from fang to fang.

“What-” he said.

“-Ethereal ingredients,” I said.

“Can I eat some?”

“Maybe in a few days. I need all of these that I can forge right now for a quest.”

Thrush’s throat rumbled with an understanding grunt. His eyes never left the ingredients. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his fixed focus. I decided to show him the unearthly colored yeast and the mystic colored water. His eyes pulsed more rapidly than I’d ever seen them before. Hunger flashed in his eyes. Eyes whose mossy irises stretched and closed—something I’d also never seen before.

Abigail called out, breaking Thrush’s focus. I put the ingredients away and Thrush laughed with absolute delight.

“What wonderful things you have,” he said.

“Hawkin,” Abigail said, walking over. “Can I get your opinion on something? I want to build walking paths around the area.”