Beer, Banshees and Bad Decisions
Look, in DP’s defense, the last time he visited Kellen Bramblemantle’s tavern it hadn’t involved banshees, eldritch marmalade, or a goblin poetry slam.
But tonight? Tonight was chaos in a clay mug.
"Is it supposed to bubble like that?" DP asked, eyeing the suspiciously luminous ale in his hand. It fizzed with the sort of malevolent glee usually reserved for swamp monsters or cursed potions.
Across the table, Kellen leaned in, beard braided with dried starberries and something vaguely sentient. "That, my furry friend, is Glimmerbrew. Brewed under a blood moon, bottled in oak, and fermented with a very legally ambiguous strain of moss."
DP sniffed it. The drink smelled like regret and raisins.
"Is this going to kill me?"
"Probably not. But if it does, at least your death will be visually stunning."
DP sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and knocked back the mug like a man resigned to his fate, which, to be fair, was kind of his whole vibe.
The drink hit like a thunderclap dipped in honey. His eyebrows may have spontaneously reorganized themselves.
Kellen grinned like a dwarf with no intention of behaving."So. The banshee."
DP blinked. "No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing this again."
“Oh come now. She only cursed your coat last time.”
“She turned it inside out.. on my body. I was stuck in a walking existential puzzle for three days."
"You looked dashing. Very postmodern."
“Postmortem more like it, Kellen.”
"Meh.. Details."
There was a long silence broken only by the soft hum of a nearby floating lantern and the slightly concerning rattling from the cupboard. (Kellen’s wife, Brinna, claimed it was just the sourdough starter learning to sing. DP remained unconvinced.)
Eventually, DP set the mug down with the solemnity of someone preparing to confess a war crime.
“If I agree to help you, you swear.. swear.. that no one’s clothes will be hexed this time?”
Kellen lifted one palm solemnly, the other hand crossing over his beard like a lawyer swearing on a slightly tipsy holy book. “On my beard and Brinna’s left boot.”
"Why her boot?"
"It’s the only thing in this house still under warranty."
"Actually, before you go, there's a more personal problem you could help me with"
DP eyed the Dwarf wearily, secretly tempted to beat the bearded fool right now.
Before he could retort, Kellen cut in, "look, it's even on the way.. you see.. there's this wee Elf that keeps sneaking into me garden and playing with me flowers"
DP have him a look as though he couldn't even believe that was a real sentence.. "You have an Elf problem? And you want me to chase him out or something?"
"I'm just keeping the peace you fuzzy bastard.. I didn't ask for some pointy-eared prick tiptoeing through me tulips"
"Okay fine.. I'll at least take a look at him," DP groaned and then stood up, cracked his knuckles, and prepared his soul for what he was certain would be another evening of magical nonsense and emotional trauma disguised as comic relief.
Because that was life with Kellen Bramblemantle.
And honestly? He wouldn’t trade it for anything. Except maybe a decent coat.
Little did DP know was that this garden meeting was fated.. and it would change his life.
But tonight? Tonight was chaos in a clay mug.
"Is it supposed to bubble like that?" DP asked, eyeing the suspiciously luminous ale in his hand. It fizzed with the sort of malevolent glee usually reserved for swamp monsters or cursed potions.
Across the table, Kellen leaned in, beard braided with dried starberries and something vaguely sentient. "That, my furry friend, is Glimmerbrew. Brewed under a blood moon, bottled in oak, and fermented with a very legally ambiguous strain of moss."
DP sniffed it. The drink smelled like regret and raisins.
"Is this going to kill me?"
"Probably not. But if it does, at least your death will be visually stunning."
DP sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and knocked back the mug like a man resigned to his fate, which, to be fair, was kind of his whole vibe.
The drink hit like a thunderclap dipped in honey. His eyebrows may have spontaneously reorganized themselves.
Kellen grinned like a dwarf with no intention of behaving."So. The banshee."
DP blinked. "No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing this again."
“Oh come now. She only cursed your coat last time.”
“She turned it inside out.. on my body. I was stuck in a walking existential puzzle for three days."
"You looked dashing. Very postmodern."
“Postmortem more like it, Kellen.”
"Meh.. Details."
There was a long silence broken only by the soft hum of a nearby floating lantern and the slightly concerning rattling from the cupboard. (Kellen’s wife, Brinna, claimed it was just the sourdough starter learning to sing. DP remained unconvinced.)
Eventually, DP set the mug down with the solemnity of someone preparing to confess a war crime.
“If I agree to help you, you swear.. swear.. that no one’s clothes will be hexed this time?”
Kellen lifted one palm solemnly, the other hand crossing over his beard like a lawyer swearing on a slightly tipsy holy book. “On my beard and Brinna’s left boot.”
"Why her boot?"
"It’s the only thing in this house still under warranty."
"Actually, before you go, there's a more personal problem you could help me with"
DP eyed the Dwarf wearily, secretly tempted to beat the bearded fool right now.
Before he could retort, Kellen cut in, "look, it's even on the way.. you see.. there's this wee Elf that keeps sneaking into me garden and playing with me flowers"
DP have him a look as though he couldn't even believe that was a real sentence.. "You have an Elf problem? And you want me to chase him out or something?"
"I'm just keeping the peace you fuzzy bastard.. I didn't ask for some pointy-eared prick tiptoeing through me tulips"
"Okay fine.. I'll at least take a look at him," DP groaned and then stood up, cracked his knuckles, and prepared his soul for what he was certain would be another evening of magical nonsense and emotional trauma disguised as comic relief.
Because that was life with Kellen Bramblemantle.
And honestly? He wouldn’t trade it for anything. Except maybe a decent coat.
Little did DP know was that this garden meeting was fated.. and it would change his life.
