Extra - The Black Rose

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It had been two days since the marriage, things had more or less settled down in Holiés village and I decided to leave, leaving him behind with his family. I was now at the guild in Vilfori looking for quests to do before going to Dulsalies.

The receptionist of the guild opened the folder that contained the informations for the available quests and said, “it’s a pretty tame period right now, there is still the exploration of the cavern north of here, then there is an escort quest for an herbalist who wants to pick up herbs in the forest, and finally there is an escort quest for some merchants who are departing for Dulsalies tomorrow, I suggest you take this one seeing as you plan on going there anyway.”

“Aren’t three quests a bit too little?” I asked her.

“Well, there are other quests but they’re all low level ones, helping in a farm, fixing the fields outside the city walls, hunting critter, stuff like that,” she said, boredom visible on her face as if she was the one who had to complete those quests,”oh! And the Black Rose Distillery is looking for mages to distill again. I still suggest you take the-”

“I’ll take that!” I shouted, startling her.

“Are you sure? It’s just a menial job.”

“Absolutely!”

She raised an eyebrow for a second but soon went back to her usual smile and said, “well, then, if you’d please give me your guild card I’ll register the quest.”

“Sure,” I said, giving her the steel card.

She took it and tinkered with the magic tool on her desk for a bit before giving it back saying, “you fit the requisites for the quest, the duration is five days, a person from the Black Rose Distillery will come pick up the participants at the southern city gates tomorrow morning at the second bell.”

“Thank you, cherry lips,” I said, before walking away.

Once outside of the guild I walked towards the inn I had stayed at with the elven girls to leave there my horse, ready to enjoy a true free day, thinking, (it isn’t the same without Holiés calling me an old man.)

I woke up the next day at the sound of the first bell, naked, alone in my bed, with an empty bottle of vilam on the bedside table and a hangover. I got up, used air and water magic to clean myself a bit and dressed, opting for a simple pair of pants and a white shirt.

Once I was ready I went down to the main hall of the inn. The owner, who was talking with a customer, once he saw me said, “Hero Fortuna! I didn’t expect you to be up so early after last night.”

“I have to be at the gates by the second bell, can’t really oversleep” I said, ruffling my white hair.

“I see, I see. Well, what can I give you for breakfast?”

“Anything with a bit of fat in it will do,” I said, sitting on a chair at a table near the counter, “oh, and the hair of the dog that bit me.”

“It was more like a whole pack than a single dog,” he said with a giggle, “but I have the right thing for you.”

He went to the back and returned shortly after with a plate with some boiled sausages and a few slices of bread and a mug. He placed them on the table in front of me and said, “the drink is a specialty of mine, perfect for hangovers.”

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“Thank you,” I said and started eating.

The lightly toasted bread was still hot and soft in the middle and was perfect to accompany the small sausages that, while giving my stomach the fatty kick it needed, were still pretty light. Then I tasted the drink, a herbal aroma and a slightly bitter taste filled my mouth as the alcoholic drink, just a tad stronger than the usual vilam and reminiscent of vermouth, filled my mouth.

I finished eating and got up from the chair. I took the empty plate and mug to the counter and told the owner, “I’m leaving my horse at the stables. I’ll probably be back for dinner time.”

“Very well, have a nice day Hero Fortuna.”

“You too,” I said and left the inn.

I walked towards the southern gate through the streets of the waking city and soon reached the line of carriages waiting for the gates to open. One of the coachmen was standing on his carriage with an open roof, holding a wooden sign with a rose burnt in it shouting, “for the Black Rose Distillery,” repeatedly.

I walked up to him and said, “I’m one of the adventurers employed by the distillery.”

“Wait, aren’t you the hero?” he said, baffled by the fact that I was there.

“Yes, why?” I said, smiling.

“No, nothing, nevermind. Get on the carriage, we’ll depart when everyone arrives.”

I nodded and got on the carriage, sitting on one of the two wooden benches that were on it while the coachman resumed his shouting.

The other mages, four men and two women, arrived well before the second bell rang and, as soon as the gates were opened, we departed.

The carriage followed the main road for around ten minutes before turning right into a small unpaved road that lead up to the distillery.

The distillery itself was massive, when we arrived we were met with a brick wall that spanned hundred of meters and an iron gate large enough to let two carriages pass at the same time when fully opened. Over the gate “Black Rose Vilamerie and Distillery” was written on a wooden sign. Once passed the gate we saw a garden of black roses that spanned the whole front of the main building, except for a relatively small half circle right in front of the building doors to let carriages turn.

The carriage stopped in front of one of the doors, where a bulky man who didn’t even reach my chest with a long beard was waiting.

The short man said something to the coachman then turned towards us and said, “ok people, we have work to do, move your asses.”

A few of the mages on the carriage were visibly taken aback by the straight comment of the man while others, who had probably worked at the distillery before, laughed at the reaction of their colleagues as they got down the carriage.

Once everyone had gotten off the carriage it went away, leaving us with the short man.

“Okay, first of all, yes, I’m a dwarf, deal with it,” he said, “second, I don’t give a flying fuck about who you are, noble, archmage, beggar, or whatever. You accepted to work here and while you’re here you’ll follow my instructions.”

“I haven’t studied magic for years to hear a drunktard speak to me like this!” a boy, probably the youngest of the mages here, said.

“Lad, I just literally said I don’t give a fuck, if you don’t want to work here bug off, I swear I won’t cry,” the dwarf said.

“How dare you!” the boy shouted, while a man and a woman were trying to hold their laughter.

“Ehy lad, even your hero there isn’t complaining, you think you’re better than her?” he said, pointing at me, “by the way, I know you like the stuff we make here, eye candy, I might add a few bottles to the pay if you do a good job.”

I laughed a bit and said, “oh my, thank you.”

The boy was left speechless by our short exchange and the dwarf said, “very well, let’s go then, we don’t have all day,” before walking inside the building.

He guided us through a labyrinth of caskets all the way to the back of the building, where a large open barrel stood in front of three distillers.

“Ok people, I want one water mage to move the vilam from the casks to the barrel, another one to move the vilam from the barrel to the distillers, a fire mage to heat the still pots, an ice mage to cool the condenser, another water mage at the end to move the foreshots and tails to the drain and the heart to the clean barrels, then two air mages to keep everything tight and make sure the vapors don’t get to our heads. I want maximum precision, here we make the best liquor in the kingdom and I want to keep it at that. Understood?”

“Yes,” we all said, almost at the same time.

“Very well, let’s get to work then,” he said, smiling.