Chapter 32: Beers, Brown Bottles, and an Uninvited Guest

“Another round, luvs?”

Everybody at the table raised a chorus of yeses, or their variation, at the bar wench’s question.

“Yes, please.”

“Yup.”

“Of course.”

“Yas, girl.”

“I guess.”

“Obviously.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

All, except me. I hated beer, even if it was called ‘ale’. I’m sure there is a technical difference between them, but I’m an alcohol noob. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve drank my fair share and gotten stumble drunk—‘we never should have crossed that damn field’—but I wasn’t exactly a connoisseur. I liked fruity drinks (no judgment), preferably with a garnish. Margaritas are fine, especially mango tajin, but anything with rum was my jam. White rum, the coconut kind.

‘Wench’ was a derogatory term back home, an insult, but it literally meant a young female who works in a tavern for the elves. So, bar waitress. ‘Swain’ was the male version. The thing is, in Shakespeare’s time… Stop. Go back—who said ‘I guess’, with all the enthusiasm of a carnivore in a vegan joint?

Judging by their faces, it had to be Gaelia. I made eye contact with her, scrunched my nose, and nodded at the still-half-full tankard before me. She snorted a quiet giggle.

“What else do you have?” I asked our server. I’m more comfortable with that term and I'll stick to it. She looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“The brown stuff, o’ course. Whiskey.”

“Not unless you have 7-up,” I said. “Ouch!” Tess kicked me under the table, giving me a smile-glare. Sm’are? Gl’ile? “Anything more, um, exotic?”

The server put on a pained expression, annoyed but still giving it some thought. “Well, some ol' trapper came in, traded a batch of potato liquor for a small keg of good ale. Vile stuff, you ask me.”

Vodka! I'd hit the jackpot. My next ask would raise a few eyebrows. “How about orange juice?”

“I s’pose there might be some left from brekkie.”

“Nice! Could you check, please? If there is, I’ll take that and some of the potato liquor. Thanks.”

Yep, raised brows all around, including Tess, who never understood how someone could not like beer. Or coffee. Yick. At least, not straight. Add enough milk and sugar, some caramel syrup, and whipped cream, and it was palatable. Now I wanted a caramel latte.

The server left to get our order, and if she’d had chewing gum she’d be popping it. Tess looked at me and shook her head in mock sadness.

It gets worse.

When she returned and set the mugs down on the scarred table, a small carafe of OJ and a bottle of cloudy-brown glass joined them. She raised—yep—one eyebrow before leaving to heed the calls of other patrons.

I levered the cork from the bottle of supposed vodka and waved it under my nose for a whiff. Tess laughed at my pretentiousness, and I started to smile. Before my lips could so much as twitch, the vapors hit me. Gee-gad, that shit was potent! I don’t know if vodka not having a smell was a myth, or not, but this stuff could peel paint. Too cliche? How about, torch your nose hairs and squeeze your eyeballs? (better) The group watched as I looked around for something to mix my drink in. Idiotic me, expecting a glass to come with my request.

Tess knew what I was going for, so she grabbed the mug I had pushed aside, downing the remainder in one go, not coming up for breath as her throat worked with swallows. Your hard-earned college dollars at the finest, Mom and Dad! She wiped the foam from her lips, and let out a great belch.

“Braaap!” Tess pounded her chest with a fist, then flipped the ale-stache at me with two fingers.

“Thanks, Tess. Like I didn’t already hate the stuff!”

“Aww, Book. Haters gonna hate.”

We grinned at each other, sharing another moment only we’d understand.

I poured the now empty mug half full with juice, then thought better and filled it to three fingers below the rim. Even holding the brown bottle away to pour in a couple of shots caused my eyes to tear. I mixed the dubious concoction with my finger, then took a tentative sip. Hmm, not badwhoahitburns!

After all the effort and derisive looks, there was nothing to do but plaster on a smile and take another scorching taste.

“Not bad, not bad at all,” I said, making an effort to keep the torture off my face. It was still better than beer.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Sure, Book. Maybe you can start a new trend.”

“Book, are you crying?” Magali asked me, ever the solicitous one.

“Nah, man. Just allergies. Must be some dust in here.” I held the drink out, passing it in an arc under the noses of my friends. “Wanna try?”

Magali politely declined, Tak gave me a flat stare, Paytin giggled and shook her head, and Gaelia smiled a 'no'. Kolin hesitated, then started to reach for it but Tess laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Dude, no.”

Maldyn snarled and shooed me away with his hands. Did I say they were all friends? Yeah, no. The pathetic, petty, power-hungry (stop alliterating! I’ll zap you)…prick.

Bzzzt! I jumped in my seat, spilling my drink. Not too much, unfortunately. Nobody said anything, so they must think it was the cocktail. Being stubborn, I took a gulp.

I took a moment to keep the bile down, then continued my mental rant. Maldyn had tragically overhead us when I’d blurted out the invite on our visit to the Alchemy Guild. We’d been settling in at the table when the scrape of a heavy chair dragging across the floor jolted us. Next thing, Maldyn was wedging the chair between Magali and Gaelia. I guess he thought he was clever, separating the two after his mean-spirited crack. I should have had Kolin toss him out on his ass, but I doubted the earnest adventurer would do it. Too bad.

“Any progress?” Tak brought me out of my head. Thank you, it's not a pretty place.

“Hmm?” great riposte, as always. “Yeah, I’ve got an even split of [torchlight], [heat], and [heat-blast]. Seven of each.”

“Seven? I thought I gave you twenty-five parchments. That is only twenty-one.”

“Yeaaah,” I told Paytin. “I kinda screwed up on a few.” I felt the keen heat of embarrassment.

“God,” said Tess, forgetting and using an Earth swear. “You should have seen Book, hopping around like a frog on a hot plate, trying not to lose his eyebrows again! The apartment reeked afterward, ha.”

Alright, that was two slang blunders. The others were starting to notice, but hopefully, they chalked it up to our ‘tiny village’ of Boulder. I checked faces for amusement, but Magali sputtered his ale in a spit-take. I tried to lean away but the spittle still hit me. "Gah!" I wiped a hand down my face.

“W-w-what?! Did you make scrolls in your home? Where you live?”

Bud, those are the same place. What’s the deal? I didn’t say it out loud, but my face shouted it to the rooftops.

“Are you crazy?” Tak jumped in.

“More like stupid.” OK, F-you Maldyn.

The rest had varied looks of concern, only Tess sharing my confusion.

“Was that bad?” My roommate spoke slowly, drawing the words out in a question.

“Bad’, she says. Ha!” Alright, Maldyn, you little… We couldn't let on about our lack of magical do's and don'ts. The only good thing was he didn't latch on to the whole [heat-blast] being as I had just invented it, and nobody invented anything magic anymore.

“Watch your tongue,” Kolin defended his girlfriend with a menace. Even a chivalrous knight would want to cave the failed apprentice’s head in like an overripe melon. Kolin had the strength to do it, for sure, and Maldyn seemed to know it. He shut his mouth and cast his eyes at the table. Man, I wish I had that effect on the guy. A balding, wannabe, glorified scribbler doesn’t carry the same weight as an armored swordsman, imagine that? I know, I go on about my hair too much. Maybe I should just shave my head.

‘Why couldn’t the Orcs bioengineer that?’ I lamented to myself. (can’t fix loser) I slapped myself hard across the face, only hurting my physical self. I tried to play the self-abuse off as a commentary on the stupidity of my actions. Accidentally setting off fireballs at the kitchen table probably wasn’t the smartest thing I‘ve ever done. Hindsight; 20/20.

“Book, you could have burned the building down. You could have hurt a lot of people.”

Damn, Magali, don’t make me feel any more guilty. Around the table, looks of incredulity—including Tess and I, after the fact—made me sink in my chair. All the fun had gone out of the night.

“Guess I wasn’t thinking. But where else could I go?”

“You should have asked me, I would have found you a place.”

“Yeah, Magali, but how would I have known to ask?”

“Common sense, you dolt!” Thanks for that, Tak. Anybody else?

“You really should have thought of it, Book.” Gaelia, the quiet one, was the next to berate me.

“Oh-ho, the Guild Masters are going to have a field day when I tell…” Maldyn abruptly broke off, as Kolin leaned forward and wrapped his finger around his mug. The iron-bound wood creaked ominously. I was starting to really like that guy.

“Nobody asked you here, Maldyn.” Kolin’s tone begged for the guy to break his sudden silence. The uninvited guest kept quiet, showing some hint of intelligence.

“I doubt Master Alric would let you work out of his place, though.” Paytin at least wasn’t trying to beat me up. “Magali and I will put our heads together, and ask around for a place where nobody can get hurt.”

Well, she wasn’t totally defending me, but I had to give Paytin credit for working the problem instead of working me over.

“It will be an expense, however,” she continued.

“Yes,” Magali exhaled loudly. “But we can figure it in the overhead and account for it.

“Wait, are you guys forming a side business? The Masters…”

“Won’t hear of it.” Tak to the defense. Of her potential profit, anyway. There couldn’t be a scroll-making business without me, the [Scrivener; apprentice], so I guess she had her priorities straight.

Thank the Mother of Trees, Bless her roots.

“Say goodnight, Maldyn,” Kolin said to a chorus of agreement.

Maldyn hesitated—so we knew it was his idea (pluck!)—then slowly slid his chair back and stood up. “Goodnight.” He left without dropping any coin for his share of the tab.

“Who invited him?” Tess asked.

“Nobody!’ It wasn’t a chorus this time and the wordage varied, but the sentiment was there. Gaelia did look a little sheepish.

The mood was thoroughly dampened, with everyone finishing off their drinks in silence.

”Time for me to go,” Paytin announced to the group. “I have to start early. Mother is a stickler, we only take Nine-day off. Magali, stop by and we’ll come up with a place for Book to work his magic.”

Ha! The phrase was literal in this instance, as I was working magic. Magic!

“Yeah, we’ve got training,” Tess put in as she and Kolin stood to go.

We? Crap, it was official.

The group bade their goodnights, going separate ways to where they laid their heads at the end of the day.

I was the last one left, pondering the potential disaster I might have caused. Damn.

Wait, they left the tab for me! Dammit!

Seeing the party break up, our server bustled over to clear the table.

“What’s the damage,” I asked her.

“What damage? Did you guys break something!”

“No. No. Sorry. I just meant, how much do we owe you?” Breaking the habit is not an easy thing.

“Already paid,” she said, confusing me. “Left a good tip, too.”

“Who?” I hadn’t seen any of my friends settle our account with the server.

“The weasely, pinch-faced one. He give me a gold!”

It took a moment to figure it out, meanwhile the ‘wench’ happily whistled as she snatched up the various mugs in a bin and dragged a cloth across the table.

Could it be?

Maldyn?

I stood to leave, hating the thought of re-evaluating the said pinch-faced weasel.

“Hey, don’t forget tha' nasty swill. You paid for that bottle, you take it.”