Beers and Beards: A Cozy Dwarf Tale
Chapter 50: A prophet, a duke, and an asshole walk into a bar

We continued to cheer as Penelope looked around the arena. And while she still couldn’t see or hear us, I imagined she could probably smell everyone. As if to confirm my suspicions, her nose lifted into the air and she gave a few sniffs before making a confused *baah*. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NƟvelFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Heh. Poor Princess.” Richter guffawed. “She ‘asn’t done tha mine run in years.”

I shook my head sadly. “I’m just sad that the trick with tha solstone in the cask didn’t work out. It would’ve looked real neat to have light erupt from the barrel when it got decorked. We should’ve enchanted the cask to glow or somethin’.”

“We didn’t want to take attention away from the beer.” Annie glowered. “No second guessing at this point.”

Malt waved at the flabbergasted goat, and she began to meander over to the stage. As she passed the section for Moon over Minnova, her nostrils flared and her head wheeled over like a searchlight. She then began goat-screaming at something in the stands.

The audience began to snicker, then guffaw as Penelope launched into a full-on dressing down of Moon Over Minnova. Her ears were back and she was really getting into it, teeth flashing in the light and head tossing.

“What’s got her horn in a twist?” Aqua muttered.

“Is someone messin’ with her?” I asked, suddenly discomfited.

Annie shook her head. “They’d be fools to try. They’d need the Luck of Barck not to get caught with all the protections on the arena.”

“That’s where goatboy’s sitting… I know she didn’t like him, but maybe she really didn’t like him?” Aqua added.

At that moment, Penelope lowered her horns and charged into the wall of the arena. The point of her single horn caught between the stones at the base and she began thrashing about trying to get it free.The audience was practically in hysterics at this point. With a mighty bleat she managed to tear her horn free and stomped the sand angrily. The cart rocked back and forth but thankfully didn’t tip.

Richter was laughing so hard that tears were running into his beard. “If it’s tha goatboy, Pete will need ta guard tha Princess's honour!”

Johnsson added, “I dunno Richter, she may have dumped him for a prettier beard.”

The pair fist bumped while I studiously examined the goat. She seemed perfectly fine, just angry.

Then, with a flick of her tail, Penelope turned her back on the stands, defecated, and waltzed to the stage where a bemused Malt was waiting. Icewhite’s apprentices switched from laughing to angry shouting. Icewhite herself glared up at us. I shrugged. What had her goat?

“Hello, my dear,” Malt cooed as Penelope pulled alongside. “Let me take that beer from you.”

He lifted the cask from the cart and had to gently push Penelope’s snout away as she tried to get on the stage. Barnes and Grafter looked amused, but Blackbeard looked miffed.

Annie and I groaned.

“Over here, girl! I have a treat for you.” Malt waved his hand, and a snack of some sort appeared in it. He tossed it beside the stage and Penelope trotted over to begin munching. I immediately gave thanks to Tiara that the dwarf was such a glutton; how he managed to keep his svelte form was beyond me.

Prophet Barnes smiled at her as she began munching. “Well, hello Penelope.”

Blackbeard frowned. “You know this ornery creature?”

“Oh yes, I frequent her pub. She’s the oldest member of the Thirsty Goat Brewery. Penelope Goldstone the five hundred and fortieth or somesuch. Why, she likely has the oldest and most noble lineage of anyone in this arena!”

Blackbeard choked. I stood and began waving my arms, mouthing, ‘STOP HELPING!!!’ Dammit, Barnes!!

Barnes either truly couldn’t see us or simply ignored me. However, the Lord was now watching the cask with interest. He mused, “The Thirsty Goat has caught my attention several times this year. Not all of it good.”

“Yes, they had a Feud with the previous Guildmaster.” Malt nodded. “That’s all been cleared up now.”

“Were they those heathens responsible for the shameful desecration of the Sacred Brew that I have been hearing of!?” Blackbeard growled.

Lord Grafter nodded. “Their New Brew is actually one of tha more interesting innovations to come out of my city this year. Besides the Boomdust and the Whistlemugs.”

Blackbeard shook his head. “I am jealous. Some cities are fortuitous to have even one breakthrough in a decade. My own pitiful village continues to disappoint me with their lacking abilities.”

“A poor blacksmith blames his tools. A true master doesn’t even need them.” At that, the Lord looked directly at me. Not at our place in the stands, no - his eyes bored straight into mine, and I thumped back down into my seat. His glowing irises felt like they were flensing my soul, and I felt sweat trickle down my back.

“Didn’t Pete invent all of those?” Richter asked. “Is ‘e lookin’ at us?”

“Aye, he is!” Johnsson crowed. “GO THIRSTY GOAT! FER CRACK AND ANNIE!”

“FER GOATSHITE! SHUDDUP!” I reached up and pulled the two down from where they’d perched on their barrel.

“Whazzat? Aren’t ya proud, Pete??” Johnsson asked, confused. “Tha Lord mentioned your work! Three times!”

“That isn’t good attention!” I hissed. “Especially when we’re planning on leaving Minnova soon!

Johnsson’s eyes watered. “Yer leavin’??”

Richter rolled his own eyes. “We all are if we win, ya idjit!”

“Oh….” Johnsson sniffled, and he and Richter fell into each other's arms. Bloody sops.

Blackbeard was looking apoplectic at this point and Annie was literally pulling her beard out with frustration.

Malt was turning a bit white around the collar himself, and he pulled at his gorget. “Ahem. Well, let’s see what our competitors at the completely anonymous brewery have given us this time?”

With that, he popped the cork on the cask. As he did, I had a sudden flashback to the library incident. “Uh oh.”

The beer, nicely pressurized by Penelope’s antics, fountained a full two meters into the air. Beer pattered down on the sands of the arena in sudden shocked silence.

Annie and I whimpered in unison. At least the judges hadn’t been coated in the stuff.

Interestingly, Blackbeard looked confused instead of angry. The Lord wiped some foam up from where it had landed on the table and studied it.

Malt laughed disarmingly. “Ahem. Excuse me. I forgot that some anonymous brews are a bit fizzier than the usual Sacred Brew. I still remember the first time I opened a bottle of Ass-Blaster and got it in my eyes. It almost hurt more going in that way than comin’ out the other!” The tension was broken and the audience laughed along. I could have kissed him. I’d need to bring him a Bran Special after the contest.

“It… exploded? Is that meant to be the essence of a dwarf?” Blackbeard asked. “Our explosive strength and personalities?”

“No, the Thirsty Goat does something to their brew that makes it bubbly. You’ll see when it pours. Speaking of which…?” Barnes waggled his eyebrows.

“Ah yes. Almost forgot!” Malt lofted the keg, and with that, Liquid Gold debuted within the five meter tall projection in the sky.

A well-carbonated beer will quickly fill the glass with foam if you don’t pour properly. The trick is to tip the glass sideways and pour the beer so that it lands right below the upper lip of the glass. I’d included instructions for pouring on the cask, and he dutifully placed the stream of liquid on the edge of the Whistlemug. We all had a perfect view of the lamellar column of golden, sparkling liquid as it flowed into the glass.

The foam that formed was a subtle shade of burnt marshmallow, and it hung just above the rim as he stopped. A perfect, two-centimeter head! He paused before moving on to the next pour as all three judges, and the entire arena, leaned in. In the bright light of the arena, the clear blonde ale literally shimmered.

“It’s… GOLD!” Someone shouted in the stands. Then there was a cacophony of noise as everyone burst into confused discussion.

And it did indeed look like gold, when it was all said and done. The isinglass had worked perfectly, removing the totality of the haze. As a basic collagen, it was completely tasteless - at least as far as I could tell, Caroline always said it tasted wonky - and it worked great at removing protein and yeast haze. It also helped with head retention. Unfortunately, it also meant the beer was no longer vegetarian. That had been a big problem back on Earth, especially since companies weren’t required to list isinglass as an ingredient. Back on earth, Beavermoose brewery mostly used the more expensive - and vegetarian - Irish Mosh as a fining instead.

Thankfully here on Erd, it wasn’t a problem. Annie had been completely confused by the concept of peaceful veganism; dwarves literally fought their vegetables.

Blackbeard leaned in to stare at the glass, his eyes wide. “Is it… is it a Light Brew? And why is it shining?”

“Cannae be.” Lord Grafter murmured. “Colour’s wrong. It’s more gold than yellow.”

“Look at that foam at the top!” Barnes cheered. “It’s even foamier than their New Brew!”

“Do we eat the foam?” Lord Grafter asked, poking it. “I’ve never known what ta do with it. I waited fer it to disappear when I tried New Brew.”

“You can. It doesn’t taste like much but it’s good fun going down!”

“Why is it shining??” Blackbeard murmured.

“Hmmm it looks like a Light, but smells more like a True Brew…” Barnes muttered.

“What is it!? Is it even beer?? MALT! The note!!” Lord Grafter snapped.

Blackbeard had his head on the table and was peering into his mug. “But… it is shining….”

“Yes, right away milord! *Ahem*”, Malt began, “Throughout our glorious history, only one thing has shone as brightly as our brilliant nobility. From the highest king to the most noble of Blackbeards, they have always displayed their power by festooning themselves with that most precious of metals: gold. Gold is what buys our food, and sharpens our axes. Gold is what shines in the dark, pays for our beer, and makes our goatherd pie. Our very own city of Minnova, so proud and strong, was built with the gold dug up here by our ancestors. Gold is gold, and our new brew captures that. As a mix of True Brew and Light Brew, it is the culmination of craft brewing, and requires the labour of many fellow Minnovans. Alchemists, glassmakers, coopers, engineers, blacksmiths, and brewers, gnomes and dwarves, all had to work together to make it happen. We present to you the essence of what it means to be a dwarf: Liquid Gold.”

“Shining….” Blackbeard was still out of sorts.

The chaos of the previous moment forgotten, the Thirsty Goat and its regulars rose in a standing ovation. I felt a tear come to my eye at the spectacle.

Malt poured another two glasses and passed them to the judges. This time they took their time sniffing and just watching the beer. A minute passed before anyone even drank.

“If it was a contest on the prettiest beer. They’d already have won…” Grafter muttered. “[Sense Lore]... hmmm, they were telling the truth about the number of artisans involved. More even. I like it when gold gets spread around my city. It’s healthy fer the economy.”

“Yes, but WHY IS IT SHINING!?” Blackbeard huffed, exasperated.

“Shall we bottoms up, then?” Barnes asked.

“Please don’t, there are children in the audience.” Malt deadpanned.

They put the glasses to their lips and took a long drag. As they pulled them away, a current of laughter flowed around the arena. Barnes pointed at Grafter’s face and guffawed. “Aha! You’re finally getting some white in that beard!”

Grafter put his fingers up to his lips and they came away flecked with creamy foam. He laughed as well, a deep booming rumble. “It’s delicious! At first, it tastes like that New Brew of theirs. It’s full-bodied, but it hits you with tha good, sour taste of a True Brew. The fizz really changes the mouthfeel of it, too.”

Barnes nodded. “Aye, and tha foam is fun!”

“Ha! It’ll turn any elf, man, or beastfolk into a dwarf just by drinkin’ it! A beerdy beard for all the beardless races!” Grafter cracked.

The pair laughed again. Beside me, Annie sighed in relief, and I could feel my own shoulders droop as the stress poured away. They liked it!!! They really, really, liked it!

“It has the scent profile of a Light Brew… the colour matches, too.” Barnes mused. “But how did they get it so clear?”

“I imagine they used some of the same techniques for making Light Brew. A better question is, does it exemplify a dwarf?”

“I do love gold.”

“Me too.” Malt put in.

The murmuring around the arena confirmed that the majority did indeed, love gold.

“But does it define a dwarf?” Barnes finished.

“None of these brews will properly define a dwarf.” Grafter scoffed. “It’s beer. It may be our Sacred Brew, but it could never capture the complexity of our existence. It’s practically an insult to our ancestors to consider tha possibility.”

In the meantime, Blackbeard was now drinking. He drained the glass in gulp after gulp. Then he slammed it down on the table, his eyes red-rimmed, his black beard flecked with white foam.

“ANOTHER!” He roared.

“Ah, the contest -” Malt began.

“Contest be damned! They win! Give me another!”

There was an angry rumble throughout the arena and a couple thousand furious eyes whirled onto the Thirsty Goat section of the stands. The rest stared daggers at Blackbeard.

Uh Oh

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