Beers and Beards

Chapter 5: Be mine

Grim sighed as he scratched his signature into another injury report form. He stretched his neck and glanced at a small painting up on the wall. It was of a demure looking dwarf with pink braids in a Verdi beard, a chainmail skirt, and a pink leather jerkin. He just wanted to go home and spend some time with his wife… Fights among the convicts were nothing new, but it rarely grew so vicious. There had been 8 black eyes, 14 contusions, 2 concussions, and a broken arm. Doctor Opal had been ready to rip someone apart until Bran presented her with a slice of cheesecake and ushered her away.

All that…. Over a vase…

Grim turned the piece of unassuming glass over in his hand. It appeared completely ordinary. Similar to a dozen other vases he’d seen over the years. So much chaos over this. Solis would be proud.

Ever since Pete’s accident with the sulfur he had been a thorn in Grim’s side. Between the minecart incident, the goat shit getting tracked into the mess hall, and now THIS! It was almost worth it for the city to simply exile him instead of dealing with his indenture. Pete's only saving grace in this matter was that he hadn’t been the direct cause of the fighting.

It was the fault of this simple piece of glassware…

Grim went up to the door of his office and locked it. He had a small cabin to himself in the prison camp, and it contained only 3 rooms. An office, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It was nothing compared to the mansion in Minnova where his wife resided, but it was a home away from home.

Grim glanced around to make sure nobody was watching and opened his beer cabinet. He took out a small keg of lager that had been brought in fresh on goatback this morning and popped the cork. He placed his vase on the desk and poured the beer into it, before placing his chin on the table. Grim stared deep into the depths of the amber liquid bubbling in the glass.

“Reveal to me your secrets….” Grim intoned, before dropping a dozen flowers he’d bought from the peddler into the vase.

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"We dig with shovel, pick, and axe!

We dig up as the Grim one asks!

We dug up mithril what a score!

Adamantium, and there's more!"

“Fer tha Firmament’s sake, would ya’ stop that awful racket!” A crotchety voice shouted behind me.

I paused in the middle of a 'Heigh-Ho', my pickaxe raised up in the air; I hadn’t realized I was singing aloud. I smiled sheepishly at Tim, whose bristly moustache was twitching in irritation. He grumbled and turned back to his own work. I dusted some gravel out of my beard and went back to digging.

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

I was woken up this morning by Grim, who confiscated my pilsner glass and sent me out to go mining. I think he wants me out of the camp while he tries to figure out what to do with the glass. I really hope I get it back, as it’s the only real reminder of home that I have right now. Whistlemop disappeared some time after the second brawl, and he wasn’t there in the morning. I hope he didn’t get dragged into a ditch somewhere. His wagon was gone, so I assumed he traveled on to the next camp.

It was pitch black in the tunnels, and my only light was from a cage on top of my helmet. It held a small stone that gave off a warm light. I was told it was a solstone, a type of stone that contains some essence of chaos. Whatever the heck that means. I’m beginning to think Balin isn’t the best teacher. I glanced up at him as his slightly shaky arm swung a pickaxe down onto his foot. A couple of hungover curses later and he was back to swinging his pick, with a bit more care this time. His handlebar moustache was practically droopy, and he kept bumping into Annie.

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

Balin was the winner of last night’s drinking competition. That was before the evening devolved into more fighting. First, there were the ‘purists’, who believed that beer should be drunk from a tankard as the ancestors intended. Then there were the ‘vasists’ who believed that my pilsner glass was a gift from the Firmament brought to them by a lucky fool. The vasists won the fist-fight, but I’m not sure how I feel about that as the fool in their dogma.

We were currently in the tunnels beneath the mining camp and I was finally off of prison doody! I feel like a real dwarf now! A team of dwarves going out on a mining expedition is called a dive, and my current dive team consisted of Tim, Balin, and Annie.

The tunnels are kind of neat. The mine is a single shaft, about 4 meters tall by 4 meters wide, that extends for hundreds of meters diagonally into the Erd. That main shaft always has a couple of dwarves digging it deeper as minecarts are pushed along tracks hammered into the stone. Speaker John walks along the shaft and is able to ‘speak’ to the stone in order to find out where the metal is. Once we know where to dig, a team of dwarves grabs some pickaxes and dives down off the main shaft.

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

The physical labour really helps to clear the mind. Last night I finally bonded with my fellow dwarves. We sang awful drinking songs, drank awful beer, and then had an awful night as I held Balin’s hair back while he threw up into Tim’s helmet. I hope he washed it… All told it was a lot of fun! It reminded me of frosh parties when I was back in college, or some of the benders we used to have at Beavermoose brewery. I almost got drunk myself, but I just couldn’t stomach enough of that lager to really get buzzed. Plus, people kept stealing my glass.

Dwarven society is really alien to human Pete. The laws are all quite egalitarian as far as I can tell, and everyone follows a strict code of honour. Crime is nearly non-existent and most of my fellow convicts are vagrants or committed petty ‘crimes’ like begging for beer. Dwarves don’t really hold grudges or hate people for very long. You have a big fight, knock each other out, and then get shit-faced together until morning. It’s hard to stay angry at someone when you spent half the evening holding onto each other while singing “Bawdy Blonde Beard”. Speaking of which, dwarves are actually excellent singers. Whodathunk?

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

Bring the pickaxe back, and *swing* *CLANG*

Annie edged away from Balin and came up to me while I worked. “I’ve got a good collection of ore here, Pete.” She murmured. Her eyes looking down at her blonde beard. She was quite a different dwarf when sober. Last night I had seen Wreck stop her from power-bombing another dwarf that had decked Balin. “Can you help me carry it up? I don’t think Balin or Tim are really capable right now.” I glanced at Balin, who was currently banging the handle of his pickaxe onto the rock wall and Tim, who had a suspicious fluid dripping out of his helmet and down his back.

“I think you’re right about that.” I acceded, and started filling sacks with ore. Tin ore is heavy, and it’s a lot of hard work pulling it up the dive shaft. I filled two sacks and started hauling, Annie following close behind.

“Did you know Balin before you came to the prison?” Annie asked between laboured breaths.

“No, I was a vagrant before. Honestly, I still don’t remember much from before the accident. Watch your head here.” I ducked down as the dive tunnel became shoulder height. That’s about 1 meter, or 3 feet in freedom units.

“You got along pretty well even before your accident.” Annie paused, grunting as she lugged her bags through the tight tunnel.

“We were both vagrants, and I think he feels sorry for me.”

“Well, he tried to stop you from going in to that freschie, but you brushed him off. I think he feels guilty that he didn’t just thump you in your fool head.”

“Hey!” We both stopped as we shared a gasping laugh. Sweat was pouring down my face and onto my Garibaldi beard. It was getting pretty dirty, and I was looking forward to giving it a wash and wax back at camp. Dwarves care a lot about their beards, and the camp has a pretty nice beardysalon.

“So, Annie,” I asked, as we resumed our ascension. “How did you end up in the ‘City of Minnova Prison Mine’? You don’t strike me as a wandering vagrant, or a layabout for that matter.” She was silent for a moment, and the only sound was our footsteps echoing in the dark tunnel.

“I was experimenting with a new kind of beer vessel at my father’s brewery.” She started, haltingly. “I was always bothered that so much of the fizz in our beer is lost, and I wanted to see if a properly sealed and pressurized vessel would help. I made some small-scale models and they worked fine, so I had some full-sized versions custom made. ” By my beard! She was a fellow beer snob! I’ve always wondered why I was reborn here; maybe the Firmament sent me to her! Now wasn’t the time for celebration though, as Annie was clearly in pain.

“Did something go wrong?”

“The pressure inside the larger tanks was higher than I accounted for.” She paused, her voice cracking. “One of the vessels blew on the brewery floor. Three workers were injured and the blast damaged my father’s brewery and the shop next door.”

“Dear Firmament…”

“A Judge found me guilty of negligence, and I was sentenced to work in the mine to pay for the damage to the city streets. My father was required to pay the merchant next door as well the injured workers. I left the city the next day, and I don’t even know if my father was able to keep the brewery.” I was pretty certain she was crying, and I really regretted asking. I covertly glanced back to see her wiping her eyes with her beard.

“What will you do?”

“I’m hoping that I can end my indenture early. Now that I have a Blessing, I’ll get a Title and make something to turn my family’s fortune around. It was my honour, not my father’s, that was tarnished. I need to make things right!” She resumed moving forward, steel in her eyes. I could see why Balin liked her. She was smart, strong-hearted, and honourable. A perfect specimen of dwarf. The silky blonde beard helped too,

We walked in companionable silence for a while. When we could hear the sound of minecarts echoing down the dive tunnel, Annie stopped. “Pete, I’m sorry about dumping all of that on you. I actually had a reason that I asked you to come with me.” She set down her bags and walked up to me in the dark, the light on her helmet nearly blinding me as she looked into my eyes. “You’re really a nice guy. Nobody else seems to have noticed, they all think you’re a fool.” Hey, I resemble that remark!

“Uh, where are you going with this?” I asked, stepping back slightly. Was this what I thought it was?

Annie leaned in closer, whispering now. “I just didn’t have the courage, but after last night I decided to go for it.” What happened last night!? My mind whirred, trying to recall. “I know that you’re just the right dwarf!” Her voice was growing firmer.

No, Annie! I’m a married dwarf! Besides, my best dwarf is in love with you!

“Peter, would you-”

Waaaait!!!!

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