Ah, good old deja vu.

I closed my diary and curled back into the pillows I’d piled into my cave-nook. It felt like just a few months ago that I’d been sitting here writing in my diary about winning a round of the Octamillenial.

Annie got the next set of rules in a pretty little manilla envelope this morning, and we were scheduled to debrief it tonight.

We won the quarterfinals by a landslide. They didn’t show us the exact numbers, but we ended up getting sixty-seven percent of the vote, quite literally double Lucky Jean’s. The only competitor who did better was Riverside Brewery, who ended up getting eighty percent of the vote in their bracket. Yeesh.

I still think it’s ridiculous that anyone would vote for a beer they hadn’t tried, but I’m not a royalist.

Master Brewer Herder came by last night to congratulate us on the win. He could see the writing on the wall even before the announcement. He also asked for the brewing techniques for making his own gose. We were more than happy to accept his surrender and provide the know-how.

Between the hops, the sorghum, and some experimentation with my [Miniature Remembrance] I had several ideas all lined up for the next contest. Hopefully it would be a sane ruleset this time.

For some reason, they hadn’t called the cooking contest results yet, and Bran and Darrel were biting heads off in the pub and would continue doing so until they got their answer. Suspicions abounded; we’d lost, the voting had gone wrong, there were problems with the results, et-cetera.

Hopefully they revealed the winners soon. Bran had sworn to feed us nothing but unsalted pea soup until they arrived, and Richter had started muttering about kidnapping a city official and getting them to talk. Anything to stop the endless pea soup.

I checked the calendar that I’d hammered into a wall, and considered.

We were now halfway through the year, and the biggest events of the Octamillenial were fast approaching. There were gladiatorial fights in the Arena, an enormous mock-battle out on the plains to recreate the taking of Crack, an address by the King, the big drinking contest, a magic demonstration put on by the Academy, and a big faire.

I was really looking forward to meeting up with Rumbob again. The jovial pro-drinker was scheduled to arrive in Kinshasa some time in the next month to try for the crown of greatest drinker in Crack. It would be interesting to see how the atmosphere around pro-drinking had changed in just the past couple years.

Aqua was currently working on a giant banner that said ‘Rum Tum Rumbob’.

All of this didn’t even include our own competitions or the quest to get Lucky Jean’s treasure.

So much to do, so little time.

I piddled around in my room for a while longer before hitting the bath. I could feel knots in my shoulders that were starting to form their own knots, and I needed to relax before someone accused me of being a knottty dwarf. Nyuck.

I had the place to myself. Balin and Annie were spending the day together at the Grand Market before he left to go fight the boss, Johnsson was out with his boyfriend setting stuff on fire, or something. Richter was preparing to enter Archis Academy in the the fall, and Aqua was out doing some counseling work.

That wasn’t to say that brewing wasn’t happening. After I’d soaked long enough and gotten dressed, I meandered up to the brewroom and stared long and hard at the equipment, then toddered over to a trio of carboys set up against one wall. They were labeled bitter, flavour, and aroma.

Each contained a different type of hop.

I’d bottled them myself two weeks ago, and they were ready to open today.

*Baaaah!!* [Translated From Prima Donna Goat] “I see you, varlet! How dare you try and sneak a drink without providing any for your Princess!”

I jumped a full meter into the air. “Hoy! Penelope! How in tha Nether are you so sneaky!? Shouldn’t your hooves clop or somethin’?”

Penelope gave me a smug look, but said nothing. She nuzzled at the carboys and gave me a curious glance.

“Ah…. why not.” I muttered, running to grab a Whistlemug and her goat dish from the office. I didn’t really want everyone drinking these until I’d had a chance to anyway. If it tasted awful, I’d relegate it to the dark pages of history and no-one would be the wiser.

I popped the third container first and gave it a whiff. I was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. There was a heady amount of citrus to the smell, with hints of spice, almost like hot wine with orange slices. I took a breath and then another, closing my eyes to relish the moment.

Then the mustard hit, in the form of an impatient goat. *Bleeeeehh!!”

“Give me a moment Penelope. This is a big deal for me.” I swirled the drink around, eyeing the clarity. Nothing floating in it, and the colour was a nice crystal-clear amber. I’d gone with making a bog standard ale for this test, using Goldstone Bitters and three variants of hops.

This glass contained some of the hops I’d assumed were Saaz. I’d need to taste it to be sure, but right now it definitely had Saaz’s unique scent. I also couldn’t smell any of the skunk or cheese smells I would associate with a bad hop.

As this was an aromatic style beer, I’d put the Saaz in at the end of the boil, so it would have the least impact on the taste.

There were three types of hopping, namely Wet Hopping, Boil Hopping, and Dry Hopping.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Wet Hopping involved putting in fresh hops flowers during the boil, and I wasn't at the stage where I could do that yet. They needed to be fresh fresh, and I had zero quality control on the hops side.

Dry Hopping involved putting hops into the fermentation tank itself, and letting the hops sit in there during fermentation. I wasn’t going to do that for a while, mostly because our set-up really wasn’t designed for it.

These three beers had used a standard Boil Hopping method, which involved adding the bittering agent during the boil. That was how Sacred Brew was made already, so it didn’t really involve any big changes.

The biggest change was when the hops got added. You could add hops at the start of the boil, halfway through the boil, and right at the end before you moved into the cooling stage. The three stages were for bittering, flavouring, and aroma… ing.

Was that a word?

Anyways.

Since Saaz was an aromatic hop, I’d used it at end-of-boil, and now was the moment of truth!

I pulled a pint into Penelope and my cups, then gave her a toast. “To our future drinks!”

*Meehee!!!* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] “To my future drinking!”

She went to guzzle, then paused when her muzzle was a centimeter or so from the bowl. She narrowed her eyes with suspicion and sniffed at the bowl.

I did the same, letting the Whistlemug capture and carry the scent to my nostrils. For a moment I was whisked back to those days in Beavermoose Brewery. I could almost hear Caroline calling my name and telling me to stop drinking from our own supply.

Penelope and I sipped at nearly the same time, drinking greedily before coming up for air at the same time with an *Ahhh*. I laughed at the expression on her face and she gave me a cheerful bleat.

Quest Updated: More Brews Part 2/5!More! MORE!Invent sixteen new drinks. Mixes don’t count.Drinks Invented: 5/16