Beers and Beards

Book 2: Chapter 12: A Pink Raspberry

Living in a fantasy world gives a man - er, Dwarf - a lot of options. Should I work on learning more magic with Richter? Should I ask Balin to take me into the dungeon? Should I start trying to revolutionize gnomish tinkering with futuristic knowledge? Should I take up an axe and learn how to fight in case I’m ever attacked by monsters again?

All the options meant I was in danger of losing the plot. A plot whereby I was an interdimensional traveler Chosen from his own plane and placed in a different world by an omnipotent being with a quest to save beer.

There were seven other souls trying to do the same thing, just for different Gods for different purposes, and all of them had access to more information and deific intervention than I did. The Chosen were competing to see who could inflict the most change on the world, and thereby earn a wish.

I paused in midstep. Was… was Barck actually omnipotent? My time with him had revealed a larger-than-life personality with near-infinite power, but not really omnipotent. He couldn’t create anything that hadn’t been created yet, and seemed to be somewhat rules-limited in how he was allowed to interact with the world.

Ah well, a thought for another time. I resumed my walk through the Central Square of the Grand Market, and ducked into a small shop. Silks and other fine cloth adorned the walls, and a well-dressed Gnomess perked up as I entered.

“Hello, dear customer –” She began.

“Sorry, just passin’ through eh.” I said, and continued out the back wall. The pop-up shops in the Central Square were mostly made with sticks and cloth for walls, or carriages, or stacked pallets and boxes of wood. That made it easy to duck in and around and through the various stalls. As I walked between two fairly large wooden carriages, one decked out in sausage, and the other in fish, I donned a blonde false beard and a balaclava.

It wasn’t guaranteed that Malt would send someone to follow me, but it’s what I would have done if a business rival announced they were going to an important meeting. The old Guild Master Browning was a bit too up his own beard to do so, but Malt struck me as smart enough to consider corporate espionage.

That was a problem, because my next meeting needed to be extra secret. Now fully disguised, I stepped out from between the two wagons. I paused at a small kiosk selling books - namely non-fiction and history books - and watched carefully. No pursuers stood out, so either I was being paranoid for no good reason or I’d properly lost them. Either way, it was time to go. The Cathedral of the Gods sat a close distance away, and I could see my quarry standing on the steps impatiently tapping her foot.

She was dressed similarly to me, with a scarf, hood, and loose baggy clothing. Whereas I wore a mining helmet, she wore a small gnomish style beanie. Her pink hair was done up in a bun and tucked inside it. If I wasn’t looking for her, I probably wouldn’t have recognized her.

I took a deep breath; it was time to see if we would be friends, or dire enemies. I walked up the steps towards her and coughed to catch her attention, lowering my voice as I did so.

“Hey there, Delilah.“

She whipped around to stare me up and down, looking for a moment like she might bolt. A trio of dwarves walked past her on the steps, and she relaxed - someone would need to be an idiot to do anything untoward on the steps of the Cathedral of the Gods. A pair of mithril-plated guards stood a mere dozen paces away and they could probably move faster than the average Dwarf could think.

“Are you the one that sent me this letter?” She asked, holding it up. I glanced at the small piece of white note-paper; it was indeed the letter I'd sent through her fan-mail a few days ago.

Hey there, Delilah

Roses are red, violets are blue,

This is a poem that I wrote for you.

At Midday Miday,

On the Stairway to Heaven,

Waits another world.

Sincerely,

Your Bud, Weiser.

I was quite proud of that little bit of subterfuge. A good number of Earth references that would be indecipherable to anyone from Erd, and a haiku just to drive the message home. I nodded.

She started to speak, and her voice caught in her throat.

“Are - Are you Budweiser?” She began, her voice cracking.

“I’m more of a Guinness man,” I replied, faux offended.

And then the pop-princess of Minnova, looking for all the world like a run-of the-mill Gnomess, fell into my surprised arms and began crying in wracking sobs.

—

Half an hour later we sat in Joejam’s Cafe, and Berry - as she’d asked me to call her - was finally no longer crying. We still wore our disguises, and I swore gently under my breath as the bloody fake beard drooped into my mug for the umpteenth time. I’d told her to call me ‘Pete’, and I don’t think she’d realized who I was yet. A good thing, probably.

“It’s just been so hard, y’know?” She whimpered, then took a gulp of espresso.

The scent in Joejam’s was heavenly to any coffee aficionado. The proprietor, a bespectacled Gnome with a blond goatee named Joejam, had bags of coffee piled behind the counter alongside pots filled with tea leaves. The enormous brass and copper contraptions that he used to make the coffee puttered and popped and burbled merrily as they turned the golden roasted beans into the best damn coffee I’d ever had. And that included Tim Hortons coffee - which wasn’t all it was really cracked up to be, honestly.

“I admit I had a rough time the first few months.” I acknowledged.

“I didn’t know anybody, I didn’t really have any friends when I arrived, and my 'original' self was pretty much a recluse at Archis Academy. I… I hated it, it was so lonely.” She finished the last in an angry whisper.

“You’ve done pretty well for yourself regardless,” I said. “How long have you been here?”

Berry nestled back in her chair. “About two years. You?”

“Same.” I nodded.

“Where didja come from, Pete?” Berry’s voice, when she wasn’t crying, kind of reminded me of a chipper New-Jersey accent. It was definitely quite different from the somewhat British tones of most other Gnomes.

“I was originally from the Okanagan, in BC Canada.” I stirred my mug thoughtfully, watching the cream spin in eddies.

“I was from East Orange, New Jersey,” Berry said, growing whistful. “I just finished my BA in music, and was in the middle of nailing down a recording deal. It was my dream.”

I winced. “Ouch, that’s rough.”

“I guess? Honestly, I think I’ve been way more successful here than I ever would have been back - back in my old crib.” She looked around for any listening ears. I did as well, but Joejam’s was pretty empty at the moment, with just Joejam, his two helpers, and a single Gnome bent over study papers in a booth a good distance away.

We looked at each other and nodded. “How did you die? If you don’t mind me asking?” I asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was walking to the performing arts center, and then… poof! Here I was! It’s one of the reasons I’ve been pushing so hard. I… didn’t get to lead the life I wanted just as I was living it, y’know? What about you?”

“Cancer. I was nearly fifty though.” I shrugged. I’d come to terms with my death before I’d even died.

“Ouch, that’s rough.” She winced. “Kids?”

“One, but she was already headed to college.”

“You miss them?” She asked, then noticed my face. “Uh, sorry.”

I sighed. “No, it’s alright. I do miss them, but the pain's dulled. I have a great new family now.”

Tears sprang to Berry’s eyes again and she dabbed at them with a napkin. “I miss mine. My ma, sis… bro. I’m so damn homesick. Everyone down here has beards, and I’d kill for some ma's gumbo or MickeyDs or Jesus Christ, even some disco fries. Fuck, I miss deep-fried food.”

I flinched, I hadn’t heard someone use an Earth swear in… almost exactly two years. “What about your new… er, self?” I waved to indicate all of her. “Did you get a new name? Mine is essentially the same.”

“The name’s pretty close, actually. My name was Raspberry before.” She blushed. “Ma thought it would be funny, a Raspberry from Orange. I always hated it. Now with the pink hair? It fits… The records at City Hall say my new Ma and Da both died in a monster attack a long time ago, so I’m a ward of the state. At least I didn’t need to worry about tuition.” She chuckled darkly.

It sounded like I was doing a bit better in this world, emotionally at least. I had a loving brother and caring friends, a full family practically. It looked like Berry mostly had hangers-ons and groupies. That was… a rough place to be. I thought back to Michael Jackson, Kurt Kobain, and countless other music stars. They flew high and burned in the light of the sun.

I could do with changing the subject; this was clearly a sore point for her.

“How much do you know about… uh, the Game?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, the Big Guys’ Great Game?” She nodded, pointing a finger upwards. “I heard about it. I already spoke to my sponsor.”

“Oh? Me too.” I nodded. “What did they tell you? We can compare notes, and not just musically!” Really, I was angling to find out who her sponsor was. That was useful information.

“God, you really were a dad. My sponsor didn’t tell me much, just that I was competing. He said that anything he could tell me would hurt my growth, and I should just do what I was doing. He gave me some bougie magic tools, but that was it."

I grumbled. “Mine said much the same, but I didn’t get any cool stuff. He also revealed that he owns my soul, so you may want to check up on that.”

Berry nodded. “Oh, I got mine back already.”

“Scuse me?” My vision was arrested.

“Yeah, he said that 'any nascent control over my erstwhile spirit would negatively impact my creativity'.” She made finger quotes as she spoke.

My first thought was that sounded suspiciously like what a God of Knowledge would say. My second thought was -

“You got yours back for free!? That sunnovanannygoat! By Aaron’s Freckled Arse, the next time I see ‘im I’m gonna twist his beard until it takes him a millennium to detangle!"

Berry tittered. “What? You’ve really gone full native, haven’t you?”

I paused mid-rant; I already knew Barck was a jerk so this news wasn’t really news. “You haven’t? Didn’t you get the [Otherworlder] Ability?”

“Yeaaaah, but I dropped that shit into my first Specialization.”

I blinked. “Did you not get quests? Why did you give it up?”

Berry sipped the last dregs of her coffee and nodded. “I hated the quests. It felt like I was like, being creeped on, what with all those little pop-ups, y’know?”

“Has your progression slowed down?” I frowned. [Otherworlder] had been the single best Ability I’d had, and I’d gone out of my way not to lose it when I Specialized. I now had [Minimap], which combined [Otherworlder] with a customizable 20 metre radar. It single-handedly turned my existence on Erd into the world's greatest VRMMO.

“Sure, but whatevs, I have hundreds of years to make it up. If I'm not out of here first.” Berry waved it off and went up to go get another drink.

I watched as she ordered and waited at the counter for her next coffee. Her decision was… naive. But then she didn’t have close friends to help guide her into smart Erdly decisions. If it wasn’t for Balin I likely would have taken [Chosen Alchemist] with its amazing infinite ingredient cheat. She’d probably made the exact opposite decision.

Berry came back to the table with - what else - a raspberry shortcake. My stomach rumbled as I stared at it. Joejam’s cafe mostly served Gnomes, so ninety percent of his stuff used wheat.

“What’s yer Title?” I asked.

“I started out as a [Herald] and now I’m a [Chosen Soul-Singer],” she said, then frowned. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you that…”

I shrugged. “I’m an [Otherworldly Brewer]. I only tell people the last part though. I'm working for a local brewery, actually.”

“Hah! I don't tell people the Chosen bit either!!” She really did have a nice laugh, it was bright and merry without being too high-pitched. “Hey hey, you managed to get into a brewery, aren’t they like, controlled or something? I mean, I knew you were working in Minnova, but I always figured you were that Whistlemop guy. Wait, a [Brewer]… with the name Pete…”

She stared at me more closely, then her eyes widened.

“You! Youuuuuu!!!” She stood up then sat immediately back down as the attention of the cafe turned towards us. She made throttling motions with her tiny gnomish hands. “You’re the butter bastard!” She hissed.

I waved my hands placatingly. “Now that was entirely not my fault. I needed to win that competition to save my new home. We didn’t know each other at the time, and besides, you blew out my eardrums first.” And all’s fair in love and war - I carefully didn’t say.

*Bing!*

New Quest: All’s Fair in Love and War 1/7

You’ve discovered your first other Chosen, now sabotage them!

Chosen Sabotaged: 0/1

Rewards: [Karmic Reversal + 1]

Do you accept?

Yes / No

Not now, Barck. I have a conversation to salvage. Gods, I hope nobody gets that Quest aimed at ME!