Beers and Beards

Chapter 17: Charcoal

“Pete, any word on the charcoal?”

“No, not yet Balin.”

“Ugh, what’s takin’ so long!”

“I don’t think we have enough silver yet. I’ll talk to Tim.”

“I still don’t know why we asked him to do it! He was embezzlin’ from City Hall!!”

“Tim’s a reformed dwarf! Isn’t that the whole point of this mine? I choose to believe in him.”

“You just feel sorry that he got shaved at yer Blessin’ party.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a clean shave. He has a very distinguished cleft-chin.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“No comment. He’ll come through.”

“Hrmmm….”

—

“Tim! How’s the charcoal supply coming along?”

“Hey, Pete! Sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been dealin’ with inventory for Grim. What do ya need?”

“Charcoal?”

“Right. I’m afraid I don’t have any good news. The supplier wants more silver.”

“Haven’t I already given you—”

“It just isn’t enough yet, Pete. You don’t know how all this works. My hands are tied by higher powers. It’s complicated getting supplies out here, and charcoal is expensive now that Greentree is closed. Did you hear?”

“No, what happened?”

“A lot of monster movement and big mushfolk coming out at the fringes. It’s dangerous.”

“Wow. Is the city safe?”

“There’s talk about a possible monster stampede. Anyway, just bring me next month’s silver and I’ll deal with it.”

“I… *sigh* fine. Thanks for the help, Tim.”

“Of course, Pete. What are friends for? I’ll see you at the mess hall, it’s steak for dinner tonight!”

—

“Thanks for the caudle, Peter! It helped a lot!”

“You’re welcome, Opal! I’m glad you liked it!”

“Any luck with your venture?”

“Not yet, I’m just waiting for the last few pieces to fall into place.”

“Make sure you give some more recipes to Bran before you go.”

“Absolutely, I’m rooting for you two.”

“What!?”

“Nevermindexcusemebye.”

—

“Hi, Tim!”

“Hey, Pete! Sorry, I can’t stick around. Runnin’ an errand for Grim right now.”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Is it important, or can it wait?”

"It’s important to me! Where’s my charcoal!?”

“Geeze, Pete! I’m working my tail off here and doing your shopping on the side. There’s no need to get all mad at me because things aren’t working out! It’s not my fault.”

*Sigh* “Sorry, Tim, I’m just... starting to get antsy."

“That’s okay, Pete. I understand, and I forgive you. I sent off the last bit of silver, and I promise that I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back from the supplier.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“No, no, I’ve got it handled. You focus on you. By the way, are you up for another game of hammercup after dinner? You won last time, so I want my revenge!”

“Sounds great! You’re goin’ down!”

“You’d better practise, or I’ll crush you with my new technique!”

“Will do!”

—

*ping* Our pickaxes rang in the darkness of the dive.

“Why are ya still stickin’ around here, Pete? Didn’t ya have a grand plan to get out?”

*ping*

“Yeah, but we’re still waiting on our charcoal, Sam.”

*ping*

“Eh? Just nab some from a [Peddler] the next time one comes through.”

*ping*

"We already put a lot of time and money into asking Tim to do it. It should be arriving any day.”

*ping*

“Pete… That’s—”

“Pass me that sack, would ya?”

“Aye…”

—

“Alright, Pete. Here’s your monthly silver.”

“Thanks, Grim!”

“What have you been using it for? I know you two’ve been squirrellin’ it away for your grand plan.”

“Yeah! We need it to buy the last ingredient for our experiment.”

“What on Erd do ya need that much silver for? I’ve given ya at least a full two months’ pay since ya finished with that Tiara-damned trough! You said you needed some sulphur – I’ve got some set aside – and Balin was yellin’ about ‘salt-somethin’. What else do ya need?”

“Charcoal.”

“What? You’ve been waiting for that!? I can just get you some in a few days, Pete!”

“What!! Really!? Then why have I been waitin’ so long!?”

*Bing!*

Stat Increased: [WIsdom]!

Your wisdom has increased by 1! Your new wisdom is 13!

“Aaron’s Arse, Pete. If it gets you out of my camp even a day sooner, I’m more than happy to get you all the charcoal you need! Just leave your silver with me and I’ll deal with it.”

“Thanks so much, Grim!”

“Aye. There’ll be a bit of a delay cause of tha’ new year, but I’ll have it to ya within the week. Now get out.”

—

I stepped out of the mining office elated but confused. I slapped the sides of my cheeks a few times and considered washing my face. Why had I gotten a bonus to wisdom just now? Then my eyes widened.

Charcoal! I had charcoal! I was finally going to make some gunpowder and get out of this prison and into a proper brewery! Huzzah! I practically skipped down the hallway and ran into Tim as I launched myself out the door.

“Sorry, Tim!”

“What are you jumpin’ around for? You got the silver for this month?” Tim put out his hand. I paused for a moment, confused, then was immediately distracted – I had great news to share!

“Yeah, I got my silver, but more importantly!” I smiled massively and struck a pose. “Grim is gettin’ me charcoal!”

“What!?” Tim cried. For a moment, shock and anger seemed to play across his face. I blinked, because that couldn’t be right. Then he smiled and nodded. “I’m happy for you! What’s your next step?”

“That’s a secret!” I put a finger up to my lips. “Can’t be too careful with corporate spies!”

“Corporate spies? This is a mine.” Tim quirked an eyebrow and rubbed at his hairless jaw. His bald chin still gave me the willies. Maybe it was a left-over reaction from previous dwarf Pete, or a wonky atavistic factor like with arachnophobia. Either way, Tim didn’t deserve my scorn or distrust over something silly like a shaved beard – even if it did make him look like Lex Luthor with a mullet!

“I’ll see you later, Tim!”

“Alright. So long, Pete.” Tim turned around and left. It may have been my imagination, but it looked like he was scowling as he went into the mining office. Ah well, I had more important things to worry about, like the creation of gunpowder!

I practically floated on air down to the mess hall for dinner. At last, after so many months of waiting, I had charcoal! I passed Sam on the way and waved at him to follow me.

“I got what I needed, Sam!” I patted him on the shoulder as he fell into stride beside me.

“Really? Opal was finally able to getcha a decent sense of humour? That’s great!”

“Hardy har.”

“I’m glad it worked out. Remember that I got money on you not dyin’, so stay safe.” Sam smiled, but he was limping and I noticed a slight tear in his thick leather trousers. I slowed down and he paused to catch his breath.

“Speaking of ‘staying safe,’ are you alright?”

“Just got caught in a small rockslide on a dive. Nothin’ big, but my leg did get pinned. I have [Sense Danger] so I got out of the way in time. Balin and Wreck pulled me out.” Now that I looked more closely, he did look a little shell-shocked.

“Did you break anything?”

“Nah, just some cuts and bruises. Maybe a small sprain. Nothin’ to worry about, eh?” Sam struck a pose. “I’m one of the strongest dwarves around! Don’t ya worry about me, son!”

“Glad to hear it.” At this point the two of us reached the mess hall and we made our way inside. Now that I had charcoal it was time to start phase two of making gunpowder with poop: the crapshoot.

I had a slight problem. Well, it was more of a big problem that could be solved with time and experimentation – I couldn’t recall the exact ratios required to make gunpowder. I knew that saltpeter, sulphur, and charcoal were the main ingredients, but not how much of each to add to the mix. I was going to need to try a bunch of different ratios and pray I’d stumble on the correct one. I was literally shooting in the dark with crap. I lost over seven months so far, and I hoped I wasn’t going to spend another seven playing with measuring cups. Sam poked me, and I realised that I’d reached the front of the dinner line.

“Hi, Bran. What’s for dinner?”

“I’ve got some roast serpent along with gravy and chitlins and some mashed erdroot.”

The plate of food was incredibly appetising. The roast serpent looked like a perfectly circular beef steak with a slightly orange tint to it. It was well marbled, and had a single bone in the centre – probably the spine? The gravy was dark brown and steaming, and it smelled like Thanksgiving. Caroline always made the most incredible turkey, and I swore her stuffing was superior even to grandma’s. I’d probably never have another Thanksgiving again... As for the rest of the meal, erdroot was boring and I wasn’t a fan of chitlins. They were really healthy, but I just didn’t like eating something that once contained poop. Especially after the past year.

“No vegetables?” I asked, as he finished spooning the erdroot onto my plate.

“You want a balanced diet? Drink yer radler. It’s got plenty of vitamins.” Bran pointed at the radler barrel.

“Ah yes, the dwarven food groups. Malt, meat, cheese, fruit, and beer.”

“Not fruit and beer. It’s fruit with beer.” Bran grinned at me, and I grinned back. He leaned in and whispered to me through a cupped hand. “I mixed turnips into tha’ erdroot. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I understand.” I nodded back, sagely. I still couldn’t believe that Bran had to trick the entire camp into eating their vegetables. There were never simple veggies on the side. It was always some veggies hidden in a sandwich under a slab of roast beast and coated in sauce. It amazed me that every dwarf didn’t have gout after a couple hundred years of this diet. “Anyway, can I borrow the measuring cups we talked about?”

“Oh, are ya finally ready to get started?”

“Yep, I can probably start as soon as next week!”

“Congratulations! Somethin’ to kick off the new year!”

“Right, Grim mentioned that too. It’s the new year, huh….” I took my plate and made my way to our regular table.

It had already been a full year since I arrived on Erd. How time flew. It felt like just yesterday I was still playing chess with Sammie, or cuddling with Caroline on the couch while we read books and drank wine. I chuckled as I remembered my first day on Erd, when I had sprayed beer all over Balin and Grim. Now Balin was the closest friend I’d ever had, and Grim still couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I had a mentor in Opal, a comrade in Bran, a friend in Tim, a gruff and affectionate uncle in Sam, and a cautious co-worker in Wreck. I’d carved a place out for myself, and obtained new goals and new skills. Where there had been a hole in my heart at the start of the year, there was now the start of a warm and comforting feeling.

I was soon surrounded by friends at the table as we discussed our future plans and current gossip. Sam and Balin got into an arm-wrestling competition as Wreck and Doc Opal talked about beard oil. We discussed plans for the new year celebration, and our resolutions for next year. After a half-hour Tim joined us and we got into a rousing game of hammercup. We were joined by a couple other miners and soon there was a whole cheering squad. Sam crushed all of us, and some cups. I still think it’s a terrible game and a waste of good tankards. I needed to teach everyone some Earth drinking games before I left. We ended the night with a toast. Nearly a dozen tankards rose in unison.

“To the Firmament!”

“To charcoal!”

“Fer the ancestors!”

“Fer Crack and Minnova!”

“I want a Blessin’ too, dammit!”

I clinked tankards with Tim and the two of us nodded at each other before we took a deep drink; him of regular beer, and I of radler. Indeed, it was good to have friends! Next week I would start mixing gunpowder and then it was just a matter of time until l was free to explore this fascinating new world.

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