Chapter 62: Fifth Mining Area

Roy asked for a barrel of Mahakaman liquor after meeting up with Reagan and his companions in the bathhouse the next day. Since he knew nothing about Mount Carbon, he needed some locals to help him out, and alcohol was the best way to make friends out of them. He thought Reagan was a great person to be friends with since he hadn’t flown into a rage despite having his crossbow taken from him.

The five of them went to Reagan’s cave. Despite the fact that Reagan was the best crossbowman around, his cave was stark. There wasn’t anything aside from a bed, table, chair, and oil lamp. Not even a cauldron was in there, so obviously he never cooked himself. Wow, and I thought only single men in my world lived so simply. Didn’t think it’d be true in another world. Guess he needs to get a girlfriend.

Reagan wiped away the dust on the table with his sleeve before placing a dozen two-ounce cups filled with alcohol. The aroma wafted across the cave, and the dwarves indulged themselves in the sweet scent of liquor. Wow, these guys look like Vivien’s dad. Roy never understood the magic of wine. He never knew why it captivated the souls of so many.

“I’ll be your match for the day.” Reagan beamed at the wine. “No tricks here, and the rules are simple. We’ll start at the same time, and the match ends when one of us drops. The one who drinks the most wine wins.”

“B-boss, you h-had a match y-yesterday, so y-you should sit t-this one out. R-rest up.” Barney pulled him back, his eyes filled with anticipation. “I-I’ll do it f-for you.”

“No you won’t, you dumbass. Remember the last time we drank? You were out cold after three shots.” Drew pushed Barney’s face away, and then he rubbed his hands. “Reagan and Dave had their chance. Now it’s my turn.”

“No, I’ll do it.” Dave didn’t want to give up either. “Nobody’s better than me in Gwent and drinking here.”

“Enough!” Reagan’s face fell, and he chided, “Look at yourselves, you idiots! The match hasn’t started yet, and you’re already acting like wild beasts. How are we supposed to conclude the match if everyone’s out cold? No drinking for you until either I or Roy drops!”

Reagan’s companions stopped fighting. They didn’t like the outcome, but they said nothing, though they craned their necks and stared at the wine on the table. Roy glanced at the wine on the table, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. If it were a fair match, he’d be out cold after two shots. But it wasn’t a fair match.

Dwarves took drinking seriously. Reagan sat down and finished one shot in a single gulp, though some of the wine trickled down his beard and fell onto his chest. It looked like a mini waterfall, drenching his coat and pants.

Roy’s lips twitched. That’s not drinking. It’s more like splashing wine around. He wasted a third of the wine, but two can cheat at that game. Roy could put anything up to a certain size in his inventory, though he had to have control over said item. Incidentally, wine could be sent into his inventory too, and that rule could be applied to the wine in his mouth.

He sat on his chair with his legs crossed, just like how Reagan did. Then he held the mug with both hands and glugged it down. A few moments later, he turned the mug around, showing that he’d finished all the wine, much to Reagan’s surprise and approval.

Unbeknownst to Reagan, all the wine had been sent into the inventory space, so Roy didn’t even feel tipsy after that. Aside from the lingering taste of alcohol in his mouth, that was easier than gulping down a glass of water.

“Looks like I owe you an apology, my friend.” Reagan wiped the wine off his beard. “I thought you’d drop from one shot, since you know, you’re thin, soft, and you have no beard. Didn’t expect you to be a decent drinker. You drink fast, so you’re a good guy, Roy.”

Wait, what does that have to do with my personality? Roy shook his head, baffled by the dwarf’s mindset. He pretended to wipe his lips. “I have a favor to ask, Reagan.”

Reagan’s eyes widened in surprise as he thought of something, and he refused solemnly. “You can’t buy my soul with one barrel of wine. I have principles. Mount Carbon forbids women from marrying outsiders. We can’t get a match for you here. It’s against our principles, so give up.”

Barney arched his eyebrow, agreeing. “Y-yeah. W-we don’t even h-have girlfriends o-ourselves. C-can’t let you be i-in the lead.”

“Oh, you’re still single? All of you?” Roy hit the bullseye, and the dwarves fell silent.

“You’re wrong! Barney knows a nice lady. If he would just stop being a pussy and ask her out, we’d already be uncles by now.”

Yep, they’re still single alright. Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, and fifty-nine. They’re almost the same age. So, they just came of age, huh? 

“Relax. I’m not going to marry anyone here. It’d be great if you could teach me more about the crossbow during my stay here though, Reagan. Your tip back at the archery range helped me out a lot.”

Reagan burped, surprised about the request. “You want me to train you?” 

Drew, the shortest of them all, quickly asked, “Did you hear anything about him from anyone?”

“Um, did I say anything wrong?”

“No. Just saying you have a great eye for mentors.” Drew gave Dave a look, and Dave’s eyes gleamed with respect for Reagan. “Aside from being the three-time reigning champion of Mount Carbon in archery, Reagan is also Paul Darba’s brother. And Paul was a part of the dragon hunting team along with Yarpen Zigrin. They hunted down Myrgtabrakke and looted precious gems from its treasure trove. There are sapphires that are bluer than the deep blue sea, and diamonds the size of cherries.”

The more he said, the prouder the dwarves looked, and Roy’s heart skipped a beat. Shit. I’m just trying to get some helpers. I never expected them to be associated with Yarpen. He didn’t know who Paul was, but he knew Yarpen. Many years ago, Yarpen Zigrin hunted down Myrgtabrakke, the green dragon, alongside Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg. The hunt ended up being a failure, for Villentretenmerth the golden dragon had saved Myrgtabrakke and her daughter halfway through. Even so, Yarpen managed to lead his team to safety, and that was testament to his strength.

“My answer lies in the wine.” Reagan smiled. “You’ll have to keep drinking if you want the answer.” Then he finished another shot.

Roy looked around at the tipsy dwarves and thought he could probably get them to become his allies. He ‘drank’ another shot and asked, “Have you heard about the murders around the mountain?”

Reagan’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and then he flew into a rage. “Everyone and their mother in Mount Carbon knows about that! That damned murderer ruined four families! He’d better pray we never cross paths, or I’m going to shoot his head!” Then he told Roy formally, “Oh, and don’t tell this to any outsider.”

Roy shrugged. “Sure, I get it. But do you know anything about the victims? Like if there’s something special about them, or if there are any similarities.”

“Similarities? Not exactly. Elder Brovar doesn’t tell us much.” Reagan wiped the wine off his beard. He had no answer to that, so he looked to his companions, but Drew and Dave were equally perplexed. 

Surprisingly, Barney clapped his hands. “O-oh, there is! A-Adrian and Fuller both w-worked in the f-fifth mining area. K-Kaerwen Hoger is in charge o-of that place.”

“Two of the victims worked in the fifth mining area?” Roy seemed to catch on to something. “Two of them?”

“T-they’re from the h-hunting team a-and the patrol team.”

“How many mining areas do you guys have?”

“Fifteen.”

That’s a lot, but the leshen picked two from the fifth mining area. Roy was surprised. Is this just a coincidence? “Two deaths under Kaerwen’s supervision? That’s one big mistake. Doesn’t he need to bear any responsibility?”

“As if,” Dave interjected, a look of disdain showing on his face. He whispered, “That fucker’s mediocre, but he knows how to lick his boss’ shoe, so no surprise he doesn’t need to be punished. He’s always trying to butter Elder Brovar up. Thanks to his bootlicking, he managed to become the patrol captain of the mining area, and Elder Brovar’s super soft on him. He tasked Kaerwen with the job of hunting down the murderer. Kaerwen just came of age, and he has no experience or skill. He can’t be the captain. The murderer picked two of his underlings to kill because Kaerwen’s easy.”

Then he huddled closer to Roy and whispered, “You know, there’s a rumor going around among us sentries. Kaerwen’s not really Elder Brovar’s nephew. We think Kaerwen might be his illegitimate son. Oh, keep this a secret, will you?”

“Alright, Dave, that’s quite enough. Are you getting drunk even before you’ve had anything to drink? Say one more word of nonsense and I’ll boot you out of the Mahakams.”

“Kaerwen of the fifth mining area.” Roy pondered on something, and then he recalled how harsh Kaerwen was to him when they first met. “Does Kaerwen hate humans? Or is he at least prejudiced against them?”

The dwarves shook their heads. “We’re not sure about that.”