30 Years After By Jesterbard
Chapter 1
Ogden carried his meager little fat candle into the cellar of the pub. He looked among the casks, hoping to find a good batch of mead for tonight's festival, but he knew that most of the casks had only weak harvest wine. Oh well. That would have to do. He grabbed a small hogshead and trudged back up the earthen stairs.
"Hello."
"Gahh!" Ogden cried out, dropping the cask on his foot. "Where did you come from?"
The newly arrived stranger replied, "Well, I was born here in Tristram, but I was schooled in the East, in Lut Gholein. Too bad that didn't drop onto my foot instead."
Ogden sat heavily and nursed his stocking covered foot. "I do not think it is broken, but it hurts like Hell."
The stranger held his hands in an arc over the wounded foot. "Let me."
A burst of blindingly white and blue light spread forth from his fingers, surrounding the toe with the warmth of a glacier, but the ice of a bonfire. Light seemed to pierce Ogden's foot and envelop it with a shimmering glow. The toe felt as good as before, only tingly and warm.
"Thank you friend. That is worth a drink on the house, although I only have lukewarm beer and piss poor wine to offer. What is your name? Your face is familiar…"
"I am Holcroft the Younger. As I said, I have spent the past 30 years in Lut Gholein learning ancient arcanum, like the little cantrip I did for your foot. I have another that you will appreciate, but I will only do it if you will give me a room and bed for after carnival tonight."
"Fine, friend, fine. As long as it does not involve my foot getting broken again. I don't have any rooms to let, but you may stay at the old hut next door. Just kick the tavern wench out, since she sleeps with me most nights anyway…uh, for warmth, you understand." Ogden quickly picked up the cask and placed it on the bar with a hollowy 'BMMP' sound.
Holcroft placed his hands upon the cask and this time, a faint purple- lavender glow dripped over the backs of his hands and coated the cask , seeping into it like ink into fine paper. "That should do it. I think you will find the quality of this drink has improved. I never have used this spell before, for they do not drink alcohol in Lut Gholein. I myself have never tried it, but I am not averse to it."
Catching the hint, Ogden brought out a pair of blackjacks from under the bar and wiped their tarry surfaces free of dust before setting them on the bar. He set the bung in the end of the cask and drew off two draughts of the wine. "Well, here we go. If it can just make this bitter stuff a little sweeter, it will be well worth it. I have to provide honey at the tables to keep the locals from burning this place down, since they like to cut my wine with it. It is not very drinkable otherwise." Ogden swirled the mixture in his mug. "This smells much nicer."
Sip.
BOING!
"It's brandy! You have turned 15 gallons of sludge into fine brandy! Well done, Mr. Holcroft. You may stay as long as you like and transform all of the drink in my tavern into this. I am a lucky, lucky man to know you, sir."
Holcroft said, "Hmm. Not what I expected. Is it supposed to burn and tickle in the throat like that? I am still thirsty. This is not a very good drink if you are thirsty after drinking it. I think I will stick to honeymead. Now if you will excuse me, friend, I must go see Aunt Adria."
Chapter 1
Ogden carried his meager little fat candle into the cellar of the pub. He looked among the casks, hoping to find a good batch of mead for tonight's festival, but he knew that most of the casks had only weak harvest wine. Oh well. That would have to do. He grabbed a small hogshead and trudged back up the earthen stairs.
"Hello."
"Gahh!" Ogden cried out, dropping the cask on his foot. "Where did you come from?"
The newly arrived stranger replied, "Well, I was born here in Tristram, but I was schooled in the East, in Lut Gholein. Too bad that didn't drop onto my foot instead."
Ogden sat heavily and nursed his stocking covered foot. "I do not think it is broken, but it hurts like Hell."
The stranger held his hands in an arc over the wounded foot. "Let me."
A burst of blindingly white and blue light spread forth from his fingers, surrounding the toe with the warmth of a glacier, but the ice of a bonfire. Light seemed to pierce Ogden's foot and envelop it with a shimmering glow. The toe felt as good as before, only tingly and warm.
"Thank you friend. That is worth a drink on the house, although I only have lukewarm beer and piss poor wine to offer. What is your name? Your face is familiar…"
"I am Holcroft the Younger. As I said, I have spent the past 30 years in Lut Gholein learning ancient arcanum, like the little cantrip I did for your foot. I have another that you will appreciate, but I will only do it if you will give me a room and bed for after carnival tonight."
"Fine, friend, fine. As long as it does not involve my foot getting broken again. I don't have any rooms to let, but you may stay at the old hut next door. Just kick the tavern wench out, since she sleeps with me most nights anyway…uh, for warmth, you understand." Ogden quickly picked up the cask and placed it on the bar with a hollowy 'BMMP' sound.
Holcroft placed his hands upon the cask and this time, a faint purple- lavender glow dripped over the backs of his hands and coated the cask , seeping into it like ink into fine paper. "That should do it. I think you will find the quality of this drink has improved. I never have used this spell before, for they do not drink alcohol in Lut Gholein. I myself have never tried it, but I am not averse to it."
Catching the hint, Ogden brought out a pair of blackjacks from under the bar and wiped their tarry surfaces free of dust before setting them on the bar. He set the bung in the end of the cask and drew off two draughts of the wine. "Well, here we go. If it can just make this bitter stuff a little sweeter, it will be well worth it. I have to provide honey at the tables to keep the locals from burning this place down, since they like to cut my wine with it. It is not very drinkable otherwise." Ogden swirled the mixture in his mug. "This smells much nicer."
Sip.
BOING!
"It's brandy! You have turned 15 gallons of sludge into fine brandy! Well done, Mr. Holcroft. You may stay as long as you like and transform all of the drink in my tavern into this. I am a lucky, lucky man to know you, sir."
Holcroft said, "Hmm. Not what I expected. Is it supposed to burn and tickle in the throat like that? I am still thirsty. This is not a very good drink if you are thirsty after drinking it. I think I will stick to honeymead. Now if you will excuse me, friend, I must go see Aunt Adria."