I put warning markers on the troublesome books, clucking my tongue at the mere idea this shit was in basically advanced students textbooks. How did the mages at that magical academy even manage to stay sane, having to read about such things?
Huh. Maybe only the advanced students had to put up with the crap, and they were all using the Empyrean System and could actually withstand the mental trauma involved?
That sounded much more logical.
“Found the brew!” Mizaya called out, standing on a wooden step and reaching up to take a rather plain stein down from atop a keg of ale standing there. She took it down, and looked inside, blinking. “Uh, I think it dried up?” she said uncertainly.
“Milee, go back and get a stein off the wall there, then fill it at the tap of the keg there,” the Mick directed them blithely, watching calmly as his orders were carried out and the stein was filled with ale.
“It’s magical. Probably never runs out. Have a taste, if everyone is interested,” I told everyone.
There were a lot of steins waiting on that wall, and soon a bunch of them were in the hands of handy scouts and Imperial Princesses.
“He were a nutter, but he made a fine brew,” the Mick admitted, smacking his lips.
“About a 32, I’d say,” Princess Kristie said after taking a careful draw, running it around her mouth, and swallowing slowly, clearly concentrating on the taste. “More than adequate for Dad’s guests.”
“Damn.” Rogar looked at his own stein of Ulgrim’s Best, considering that. “Don’t tell me, he makes stuff at QL 40? What would that even taste like?”
“40’s are actually hard to make because the components are hard to find, and the aging process can throw some kinks into the results. He and Mom are usually satisfied with 36’s or so, but they’ve had some 40’s in their brewing. They sometimes give them away as gifts, especially to soldiers serving under them. The demand for them is huge, but he doesn’t sell them, and if you get caught selling them, you’ll never get another.”
“Do I even want to know what an ale at QL 40 be tastin’?” the Mick asked, just before downing the rest of his stein.
“I might be able to make some, but you’re going to have to wait at least three months to see the result.” Princess Kristie then poured the rest of the stein down her throat without interruption.
“Patience be one o’ me strong points, it be!” the Mick announced cheerfully, earning quite a few skeptical glances from just about everyone.
“We didn’t see any Roses among the trophy jewelry, Magos,” Selena announced, having been the one to go through most of those in a carefully-organized set of drawers, with quite a few Quest items among them, unseen since the Fall and ready to bring to the researchers.
“Any empty jewelry Slots?” I asked, which brought her up short, and made her focus.
“There was one. An empty ring slot in the second drawer,” she reported after a moment of thought.
“Everyone fill up your stein and carry it upstairs. I’m betting the little fellow can drink like a fish.” I glanced at the Mick’s expression. “You don’t look much surprised, Lord Mick.”
“He were Level 50 or so, last I knew o’ him. Strange that he be 225 or somethin’ now. Like he been through Hell an’ back keeping this place safe,” the Mick commented.
“You think Fuzzy should give this place a visit and bring him away from here?”
“He be not a Summons. He be havin’ a name already, we ain’t be havin’ to dig it from his shell. Aye, he should be set free… if he be willin’ t’ make it happen.”
“If he inherited the soul of Ulgrim at death like a proper Clone, he may not even want to move… and I may be able to break him out myself. Let’s go see,” Princess Kristie conjectured, enough to get us all interested as we followed her.
-------
The Energy Crystal came to bear on us again. “Intruders! Surrender or… oh, it’s you lot again. Hey, did you like my boots?” He did a short dance in his fish-headed boots, bunny slippers now sitting in the corner. “Did you bring me my ale?” the little man demanded of us, eyes fixing on the steins held in all our hands.
Kris nodded to me, and I stepped forward, a brimming stein with a nice head of foam floating above my palm. “I believe this is the drink you were looking for, Mayor Ulgrim.”
He flinched visibly, something old and cunning in his dark eyes for a moment before being washed away.
He snatched the stein out of my hand. "Great! You found my Home Brew!" With deft ease, he drained half the stein. “Ahh!!! If that ain't the mothers milk to me! I've been saving that stout for a special occasion like this one." I lifted an eyebrow at him. "What special occasion? Why, my coming home party of course!" He smirked at me and took another draw. “Let's see, I think I have a reward for you here…”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
His eyes fell to my hand, and he paused. “Oh, hey, I’ve got a Ring like that. Old Harlune, that old codger, gave it to me as payment for letting him stay here a while. I think mine is more complete than yours. Would you like me to fix yours?”
“Yes, Lord Mayor,” I answered without hesitation.
He shuddered again as I plucked off Rose and handed it to him. He simply closed his hand around it, and light flashed in his eyes, then sparkled around his small fist.
He held the Ring of amarinthine quartz back up to me. “Hah! Every bit as good as that old reprobate could make! You show it to that misanthrope when you see him up on his island up north there!”
“Thank you, Lord Mayor,” I bowed to him, and he trembled slightly as I took it from his small hand.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” His dark eyes gleamed as he looked expectantly at the rest of us.
---
One by one, Kris waved the others up to get their Rings upgraded. They hadn’t Invested any Karma into their Rings, having other things they wanted to upgrade consistently, so while they got upgraded Beautiful Roses of Celdon, I got something slightly different.
===
The Lovely Rose of the Lady Magos
Burden: 5
Spells: Legendary Combat Medication, Night Voyager, Legendary Healing Prowess, Legendary Flame Ward, Legendary Arcane Lore Prowess, Protection from Fire (Pyreal); Regeneration V
Wield Level: 200 (Bonded)
Arcane Lore Required: 325
====
The +25 bonus to Arcane Lore was new, as was the Pyreal Protection from Fire. Night Racer had improved to a +30 Speed boost with Night Voyager. Regeneration V was the result of my own Investments into Rose, the base Healing effect of a Ring of Regeneration, and what I was slowly upgrading.
Yes, the voyager by night is speedy indeed, I thought wryly, looking at the name.
---
“Lord Mayor, thank you for the Ring,” Princess Kristie stated warmly, her Null rising about her as she accepted her Beautiful Rose of Celdon back from the little man. “The System cannot see or hear you for the moment. Would you like to be released from your place here?”
Some programmed response was arrested in mid-word, and the small clone of Ulgrim slammed his jaw shut and stared at her. “Damn me, you’re right!” he said after a minute, his eyes darting back and forth as they looked at nothing. “Sweet trick, girl! Been hiding inside here so long I almost forgot I wasn’t this little fellow at one time!”
“We’ve had a habit of finding lost souls, Lord Mayor,” she replied respectfully, completely unfazed. “I know this is your home, such as it is, but if you stay here you’re going to be forced back into that routine again. The System has its hooks into you and your clone, and we’ve got to get you out of here to break it.
“Your insights into magic were unorthodox and rather infamous among the scholarly set, and they’ve got a need for some unique insights into magic as they rebuild the lore with the new magic system in effect now.” Her pale violet eyes met his without fear. “I see that you’ve managed to shake off some of the effects of your library down below.”
“So I did. Having to stay drunk to stay sane wasn’t as hard as you might imagine, given the alternative.” He glanced over at me in consideration. “Read them that fast, lass?” he asked of me directly.
“We’ve taken possession of a great deal of your belongings and trophies below, and that includes the library. I’ve marked the tomes holding extremely dubious contents. I am guessing that they were only allowed to students who were using the high Empyrean System of Magic, and could withstand the stresses of those Names.”
He grunted, looking away and out the window he could barely see over. “I can barely get out once a week to trim the lawn and keep the weeds down. Had to kill dozens of the moarsmen before they got the idea that I’d kill any that came up here, and they couldn’t get rid of me for more than a few minutes.”
“You’ll lose that protection of being an NPC if you leave here and we burn the System’s touch off you,” Kristie stated firmly. “I don’t know if we can get you back to full size, it may be an effect of the spell which created your Clone going badly.”
“Then again, there are spells which allow long-term bodymorphing which should do the job, also,” I supplied firmly, and had his instant attention.
“That much new magic, is there?” He stepped forward promptly. “Be happy to leave with the lot of you, even this scalawag here.” He looked the Mick up and down. “You’re MacNaill’s nephew, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he looked at Kris. “His career matches his taste in liquor, you know.”
“May I present to you Royal Warden Mikal McMikal, head of His Majesty’s Royal Scouts of Freehold, Lord Mayor. He can actually survive a glass or two of fine wine every now and then, too,” Kris introduced the Mick formally.
“This scoundrel?” Ulgrim sniffed.
“Aye, appointed right proper an’ the likes by Borelean himself. Not like being elected Lord Mayor while passed out drunk in the Smoking Axe, ye old codger!”
“Berkholt must have put something in my ale. I only had ten mugs that night, and I wasn’t even on the ballot!” Ulgrim sniffed, and rubbed his hands together. “Do they have decent liquor where we are going?”
“No,” Kristie said, and he blinked in surprise. “Freehold hasn’t had the area or crops available to make more than the most basic liquors, although their rums can keep you pretty sauced if you like getting knocked on your can by girly fruity drinks with a nasty kick.
“On the other hand, King Borelean needs an official Royal Brewmaster to start getting some of the good stuff back into production.”
His dark eyes lit up with satisfaction. “I think I can qualify for that position, lass!”
“That be Her Imperial Highness Kristie Rantha-Briggs, old fart,” the Mick corrected him sharply. “Ye’ll address her as Highness or Warlord, as ye prefer. Her pa’s the Butcher of Viamont an’ the Emperor o’ Ispar, back home. Ye can probably remember Commander Briggs o’ Celdon, aye?”
Ulgrim blinked in shock. “That brute became an emperor?” he gasped, earning a raised eyebrow from Kris. “Er, no offense, Your Highness!”
“And his hag of a wife is Empress. Mind your head now,” I added encouragingly. “They literally wiped out half of Viamont, and the Princess here just ended the Corcosi bloodline’s last survivors in Sanamar. So, be respectful of the people with histories of much head removal, Lord Mayor.”
“Bah, never did like that title, and I doubt it’s mine anymore. Royal Brewmaster sounds much more fitting!” he answered fearlessly.
“Samplin’ all the wares be half the pay, or so I heard,” the Mick nodded wisely.
“Ah, you did inherit some sense!” Ulgrim said. “Alright, I’m ready to go. How are we getting off here? Is the Portal magic working again, in some different way?”
“No, but there is an alternative. It involves working with your Lived-Line, so we’re going to be taking a short run across the waters to the mainland,” Kris told him sweetly.
“A run across the waters?” he repeated blankly. “This I’ve got to see…”
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