Chapter 23

Thundering Azurite

Brewer’s Reputation: 1,505.

Dream Cutter Stone Shard Quest: 13,300/15,000 shards.

High in the colossal aspens, miles above the forest canopy, Abigail and I drank soup. There had been shreds of salted fry, chunks of carrots, and ripped oyster mushrooms, but we’d both picked those out first thing. All that remained was simple broth polka dotted with fish oil. The morning was cold, especially at our altitude, and even though Abigail had warm Sheltering attribute ale active, we still had to drink some warm-warm beer.

Below us was the northernmost libation location of the Mist Hidden wall. A lush valley, between the aspen and the sea, led into the distance. Mists crawled along the valley floor and evaporated up the sides.

Before debarking the massive aspen branch, I brewed.

I used both forged ethereal yeast and forged ethereal water to produce an ice milk billy goat lager. I used the adjunct: lactose sugar. It wasn’t the best quality but I was inspired by Abigail’s quest to use alternative adjuncts.

The ice billy goat style required a sequence of using Brewer’s Chill to freeze the water from the alcohol and sugars. The result was a stronger beer with a unique malt profile. Because of this, my Brewer’s Chill level rose to 1812. Other skills leveled up: Fire and Roast rose to level 1701, Mash Master to 1875, Alchemical control to 1969, and Brewer’s Harvest to 1760. Foam Cascade rose to level 1598, and the sub skill Sleeping Fox Familiar reached level 98. I couldn’t believe that I still hadn’t broken into gold rank, when my quality tier increased by 18 levels to 25/100 Grand Honorable.

I pulled out my silver drinking boots-

“These instead?” Abigail said. She held the stems of two balloon goblets between fingers of one hand. “Ice billy goat lager. Am I right?”

“You are.”

From the 750ml ethereal wrapped bottle, I poured us each a goblet’s full. Through the glass, we watched the foxes made of foam uncurl from a froth. Their legs kicked deep into the beer and landed at the bottom of the goblet. Bubbles raced up from their toes.

Both foxes leapt from the goblets. Our hands bobbed from their push off. They scrambled down the branch away from the trunk of the aspen. After a brief pause, wherein their trails of foam petered to nothing, they leapt from the bough. By the time they made it to the next branch, the wind had taken most of their foam. I lost sight of them.

“We must follow them one day,” Abigail said.

“One day.”

She crouch-walked over to me, probably to save herself from the vertigo of such an impossible height. She clinked the rim of her balloon goblet to mine and they rang like bells. We drank.

Straight away, the lager was strong. The foam was like a pile of cotton shards that fizzled into the perfume of apricot pits and tropical marzipan. The beer was dark, almost black, but viscous hues of purple hung to the rim in the shape of a tongue. The malt was smooth and hazy. A milkiness turned the lager from something smooth to something silky. The malt held a beautifully rustic malt, with a full body of plum. There were flavors of dark chocolate and waffle that appeared in mauve flecks. Abigail purred and gave three nods.

She complimented the beer and shared a few tricks that I should keep in mind the next time I brew something so chilled. It was one of my coldest beers.

I asked her if it was too cold, but something in the valley drew our attention. Several trees lost half their green leaves. A monster rose from amidst those trees. It rose above the canopy like it was climbing out of the ground. A golem perhaps, twice as tall as the trees. Its body was made of cuboid crystals of azurite. The sun lay upon it in a confusion of reflections. Blue colors swarmed the trees. Two arms pushed aside the near nude trees. Its legs came up, cuboid and metallic blue like the rest of it.

“Good thing you’ve got your Mist Hidden wall,” Abigail said.

“Even with monsters like that?”

“Even with monsters like that.”

It walked through the valley. The earth boomed. Quivers vibrated up the tree, shook our branch, and the leaves trembled on the ends. Every slow step made a deep thunderous sound. Trees cracked to splinters in its path. The destruction sounded like slapping lightning. Flocks of birds fled the valley. Every now and then, the monster paused and hunkered as if to take the time to draw breath. Then it stood up as straight as it could—still hunched—and stomped on.

There was no way we could tear our eyes from the thing. We were forced to when it disappeared into the far valley’s end like it was walking back into the earth once more.

“Wow, look,” Abigail said and pointed a finger.

I’d been so preoccupied with the curious sight of the monster, that I hadn’t noticed dark clouds on the horizon. Never had I seen clouds so dark, so charcoal. Light flashed in the most bulbous parts of the clouds. Its shadow raced across the distant lands.

“Do you think it’ll come below us?” Abigail said.

“Every other cloud has passed beneath us.”

“That doesn’t look like every other cloud.”

“We could wait it out,” I said.

“We could dive down and experience it.”

“Experience it?”

“Feel the rain,” she said.

“And the lightning.”

“No, not the lightning. I’ll brew some Sheltering attribute beers.”

“It doesn’t look like we’re going to get a light rain.”

“It doesn’t, does it?”

With that, Abigail brought out a couple of Anti-gravity beers, left one for me and leapt off the branch. I scooped up the bottle and leaned into the fall for another dive.