The unidentified Jerky was beyond the abilities of Gerald’s meagre palate and with his limited knowledge, he was unable to discern what it was made from.

There was a surely a nice mixture of seasonings but it mainly tasted sour and umami to him. What he was sure of was that the blasted thing was tough beyond belief and left his jaws feeling sore and tired.

It would’ve been beyond Gerald to even finish his mouthful if he didn’t have some aid in flushing down the teak-like jerky. But using the drink in the vail to help him wash down the forsaken jerky was akin to using the hide of a Silverback Ivory Rock-ape as a doormat.

It would’ve been considered a sacrilegious crime to many connoisseurs of fine cocktails. For the vail he had just drank had contained a small sip of Faithfall-ridge punch.

The expensive drink was made from one of the best bourbons money can buy that was brewed by fastidious Underdeep Molekin Brewers who had to be at least gold ranked, using Evercorn grown over nearly a decade with loving care by the finest Leporian farmers. Then the bourbon is to be aged for another twenty years within casks made from the adamant-ranked plant monster, Shiverbark.

Mixed into the drink is one of the finest teas in all of Delmathar, the Faithfall-ridge tea that hails from deep within the lands of Fantimal.

The final result being a mellow concoction that literally burns your throat before the very same feeling radiates out from your very core. This fire mana infused by the Shiverbark casks is then to be replaced by a gentle blanket of magical cooling originating from your nose that is attributed to the heavenly tea that perfectly counteracts the initial flavours before complimenting it in beautiful synchroneity.

The scent of this mixture is a smoky cinnamon-like smell of the cask before the fire mana slightly singes your nostrils and therefore making the drink harmful to drinkers with the vitality attribute lower than fifty. Whereas the follow-through scent that comes from drinking the actual cocktail is that of the refreshening cool tea that many drinkers say reminds them of first warming cool spring breezes of Charingswin.

Needless to say the exorbitant price of this drink is attributed to the fact that the ingredients needed can only be acquired from the Union AND the tri-Divine territories before being sneaked into the Underdeep. It was a wet-dream to smugglers and merchants alike with many only imagining the early retirement they would enjoy from the ridiculous amount of profits the can wring out of the sale of bottle.

And now Gerald had unknowingly used it to wash down some cheap unknown jerky that wouldn’t be out of place in some general store bordering the slums in any city.

He wasn’t familiar with the drink and found the taste to be slightly intense initially with its magical burn, but found it to be highly enjoyable overall. Saving the last drop was quite the exercise in self restraint but one he managed in the end.

With only half of the jerky eaten and the vail empty but for one amber drop, Gerald dismissed the leftovers back into his ring before pulling out something else for dessert.

He chose himself some random circular paper-wrapped pastry that was half as large as he was along with a small jar of golden brew.

Gerald was feeling particularly sweet-toothed at the moment, so he chose to unwrap the paper bundle first whilst sitting the jar down to savour later. He was more keen for drink within the jar but sometimes the relish comes in waiting.

Inside was a large and lightly brown circular cake of sorts that was coated in pink icing. But what confused Gerald greatly was why the baker would deem it appropriate to hollow out the centre of a perfectly good cake.

He ripped off a decently sized piece from the top that was coated in the sticky icing before popping it into his mouth.

Hrrm nae half bad, he thought as he tasted the soft slightly sweetened dough that was complimented by the sugary icing that reminded him of strawberries he had had in his youth.

He then ripped off a few more pieces that he placed upon his bare ankles to enjoy with his drink before deciding to send most of the pink partial-cake back into his inventory.

The drink was what he was more interested in. For sloshing inside the clear glass jar with the paper logo of a barrel full of apples on one side, that was topped with a rubber-sealed glass stopper and cloth was some form of cider.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

For Gerald would consider himself quite the expert of ciders. It was his favourite drink of choice in the past and still is, even if berry ciders were pretty much the only thing he could brew with his baby back in Isaldra’s dungeon.

First came the visual inspection.

Logo unknown, so probably new company. Weak yellow wi’ no impurities, so made in a medium or large batch. But is the drink magical or industrial? Probably industrial wi’how ta glass not being perfectly made with some wee bubbles still trapped inside, otherwise could’a still be wee batch- but the brewer doesn’t have the money get proper jars after havin spent it all on them fancy stickers.

His first impressions left him feeling slightly dejected, for if the cider was produced in magical batches then it was likelier that someone with a proper Brewer class would be involved. If it was made by some amateur then it should still be ok. But if it was made by some cheap Tinkerers in some factory line using some machinery, then it would be soulless, tasteless and not even worth his time.

Gerald banked on the break-out brewer with the eye-catching unnamed logo.

Then he shook the jar.

No bubbles so still, probably no’ very fancy and no’ some snooty heritage apples… So probably down south in the Union somewhere.

Putting the jar right up against his nose so as to get the virgin gases from the unsealing, Gerald then broke the rubber seal ringing the lip before unplugging the glass stopper.

Shooting right up his nose was the usual slightly heady and citrus aroma of fermented apples. But hidden beneath the usual smell was a slight undertone of some mild berry with a very peculiar Delmary hint.

Probably fermented wi’ a touch of Dullberries, if it’s gonna be so strong enough as ta come up on the aroma profile. How ta fuck did they do it? Never worked fra me or anyone else fra that matter. But still, a bold choice going the Delmary route. Not how’s the taste gon’ be like?

He then placed the cool jar up against his lips before lifting the whole thing up slowly. Then with the small mouthful he needed, he lowered the glass.

Hrmm pretty dry, so no a lot of sugar left over, just how I like it… Then ta’ sweetness comes frae the apples and the Dullberries itself, but not taa’ overpoweringly so. Really no bad this is.

Then he rinsed the cider about inside his mouth to properly get the full profile.

Nice Delmar tones… very mineral from the Dullberry wi some slight smoky feel. So probly got some smoked apple chippings involved somewhere in the brewing.

After his complete inspection was over, Gerald had to admit that the cider deserved a resounding pass. The brave and unusual usage of Dulberries ,by the now undoubtedly Brewer class holder, was in his opinion both masterful and genius. Gerald had even once tried to experiment along the same path himself when he had chanced upon some winter apples inside some dead adventurers backpack, only to find that the berries would overpower the whole cider by a large margin that he wasn’t able to control whatsoever. To make the berries be the secondary profile and then layer the smoky taste underneath as another underlying profile was sublime artistry.

So without further ado he lifted a toast to the unknown brewer.

Unfortunately for Gerald was how there was still a small coating of slime from his refruiting on his right forefinger and pinky on the hand that held the jar, which subsequently set the delicious jar of cider over his shoulder when he brought it down just a little too fast to drink.

The golden liquid splashed everywhere in a semi-circular arc before being wasted on the dirt. Then the jar landed perfecting standing up and was still somehow retaining its cargo with it still being half full of cider. Unfortunately it fell on some pencils which acted as rollers that set the whole container along with its precious cargo further away from Gerald.

Looking over his shoulder in amazement at his own bad luck and stupidity, Gerald then caught the sight of the car jar just as it rolled along the dirt floor on its ad-hoc rollers before catching on some small black-spotted little toadstool.

The glass jar then flipped into the air and spun wildly whilst still keeping the cider inside due to forces of inertia before careening back to the floor where it landed on its bottom once more whilst sitting perfectly balanced atop a small lonely pebble.

Gerald held his breath as the cider sloshed about sending the jar swaying from side to side, but luckily it wasn’t enough to send it tipping off to any either side before it subsided. But as if by some cruel fate after just a few second passed by, a hairline crack appeared on the jar’s bottom where it rested on the pebble which quickly ran up the whole jar.

Then as if the whole universe had released the breath that it was holding on to, the jar shattered into hundreds of pieces in a shower of cascading glass and golden cider that reflected in a whole kaleidoscope of colours in the magical glow of the mushroom forest.

“You’ve got ta’ be fucking kidding me,” Gerald groaned in utter disbelief.

The last thing to slowly float down onto the dirt floor as the cider all quickly seeped underground, was the logo of the barrel containing the apples. It floated down slowly whilst swishing form side to side as if pretending to be a feather before touching down gently.

Sitting atop the sticker by some miracle was a tiny smidgeon, not even a drop within a droplet of cider that glistened in the psychedelic glow of the mushrooms around the dungeon.

But nevertheless it set Gerald scrambling off his ass whilst sending Silky tumbling to the ground and his pink-cake pieces hurtling off to god knows where.

Then running over the glass covered ground instead of flying over, which gave him a whole plethora of glass shards underfoot, he kneeled down and got more shards in his knees which he ignored.

Gerald then reverently cupped up the sides of the sticker before quickly sending it back into his ring and thus saving the last drop.