Chapter 4: A glass half full

Chapter 4: A glass half full

Two Minutes Earlier

Whistlemop of the South Crackian Mops rummaged through his cart. The young dwarf named Pete had been very helpful, and it was only right that he receive recompense. Perhaps seeing his hard work rewarded would help put him back on the straight and narrow! Whistlemop picked up and tossed aside a small figurine of a badger. Nope, nobody liked badgers, they were vicious annoying beasts and he always regretted purchasing that case of them.

Whistlemop paused as he activated one of his Milestones, [Relative Value]. While he was unable to see the true price of items, he could determine when an object would be more meaningful or valuable to a customer. He always had a knack for connecting customers with just the right product, and it was nice to see the Gods agreed. He paused as his eyes alighted upon a vase in a pile of glassware off to the side. The lack of sunlight down here meant that outside of the dungeon, flowers did not exactly thrive. The main source of plants in Minnova, other than the dungeon, were various mosses and lichens and fungi, along with Erdroot. The starchy root vegetable was used to make everything from bread to beer, and while it had a musty flavour it was healthy and filling. He personally preferred a fine imported tea to the beer the dwarves made out of it, but to each their own.

What was confusing him was that [Relative Value] was pinging, indicating that the vase held incredible value for Pete. That was when his [Sense Deals] started going off as well, meaning the vase could hold incredible value to him too. The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

What on Erd was going on? Whistlemop leaned out of his cart and pointed at Pete.

“You there! What is the meaning of this!”

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Whistlemop stalked towards me, carrying something under his arm.

“What-what do you mean?” I stammered, backing up. Had I done something wrong? Don’t touch my charisma score Whistle-mope, I have none to spare!

“Are you a Cultivator?” Whistlemop demanded.

“What, like Kung-Fu?” Were martial artists a thing here too?

“What in the Firmament’s name is a Kungphu? No, a titled Cultivator for plants and gardens!”

“No... I don’t even have my first Blessing!”

“Well then,” Whistlemop held up a glass object, confused. “Why on Erd is this vase so valuable? I can’t for the life of me figure it out!” I took a moment and looked at it. It was round and made of clear glass, with a narrow base that tapered up to a slightly wider opening at the top. It was a pretty standard flower vase. There was nothing truly remarkable about it other than the excellent quality of the glasswork. It was about 20 centimeters tall, and 6 centimeters wide.

I leaned down and took a deep sniff of the glass. One of the benefits of a good head is that it captures the flavours of the beer, and you can appreciate the ingredients that went into it. This lager smells roughly of... mushrooms? Something earthy anyway. A rare choice but understandable given the environment. I paused as I realized the room had gone silent.

“What’s that?” The dwarf behind me asked, leaning in. His brown moustache stood out in a bristle, and he had mutton chops. It was a weird choice for facial hair, but... dwarves. I think his name was Tim.

“It’s a head” I replied, guarding the glass.

“Ahead of what?” Tim pushed closer, watching the bubbles rise. “Were you sniffin’ the beer?”

“Um.... Yes...” I stepped back as a bevy of dwarves starting to gather around and stare in rapt fascination at my oversized glass. Is it a bevy? What would you call a group of dwarves? A beard? “The foam on top captures the smell of the beer, and the bubbles subtly change the flavour when you drink.”

“Can I try?” Tim asked reverently, reaching for the glass. His hand was slapped down by Balin, who had appeared next to me.

“None a’ that!” he shouted as I smiled appreciatively at him. “He’s obviously gonna let his best bud Balin have tha’ first taste!” My smile flopped.

“Nobody is drinking it but me!” I shouted. “But you can all try it after I get a chance!” There was a clamour as the dwarves began to fight over who would be first. As the fists began to fly, I took another sniff of the glass and then slowly sipped it back. The bubbles exploded on my pallet, and brought with them the nutty...

Rancid..

Awful taste of the beer. Yep. It perfectly brought out the flavour of the lager alright, in all its terrible glory. I sighed and finished the glass off, no sense in wasting bad beer. It was going to take more than some simple glassology to fix this piss. As I washed my glass out, a line quickly formed up with Balin at the front. A few black eyes and bloody lips were visible, and I think I saw a couple bodies being stuffed under benches. Eh, not my problem.

My fellow dwarves took turns drinking from the vase as I poured, each copying my motions in turn. Sniff. Pause. Small sip, small sip, and chug. Their expressions were rapt, and the mood was nearly religious. It was kind of freaking me out, honestly. I love my wine and beer, but I don't LOVE my wine and beer. I reserve that for my wife's flowing beard.

Dammit.

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Meanwhile, underneath a table in the mess hall, a pair of eyes glittered. A magnificent moustache twitched up in a smile at the unmistakable scent of gold.