Beers and Beards: A Cozy Dwarf Tale

I stared out over the hills with a knot in my heart. The feel of the wet air on my face. The sun beating on my brow.

‘Modeled upon the intersection of the lived experiences of Peter Roughtuff.’

Well, now we knew what that meant.

“It’s home…” I whispered, then shook my head. No, home was on Erd now. This was Beautiful British Columbia, though nowhere I recognized. The surrounding hills and the mountains off to the east looked alot like the scenery around the Okanagan Valley, while the forests far to the North looked more like the coastal rainforests of Vancouver Island. Not to mention that there should’ve been a wide winding river of blue cutting through the hills, not whatever tha Nether that bloody ocean was doing off to the West.

I glanced at the trellises and shivered. I had a pretty good guess what the vines covering them were. They looked identical to the stock Canadian Tire trellises we’d purchased when we’d first started winemaking. If the vines on them were the same, they’d be the finest Cabernet Sauvignon grapes money could buy. We’d gotten them from one of our neighbours, who’d been more than happy to come and spend hours explaining the ins and outs of the cutting and planting process.

The original owner of our vineyard, or Chateau, as we winos were wont to callthem, had been growing Pinot Noir, and we’d found the bloody things to be a bit too temperamental in the southern valley. Pinot Noir preferred a cool spring, and sometimes we’d get roses blooming in February. My cousins in Ontario had always been so jealous. I’d send them photos of us tanning on the deck while they were still under four feet of snow.

“Pete, you should step back.” Starshine said at my left elbow. “We still don’t know what’s out there, and the letter only said it’d be safe inside the tavern.”

“It’ll be fine,” I muttered, wiping some sweat from my eyes. “We’d see anything coming a kilometer away.”

“Unless it burrows,” Aishablue put in brightly.

“Or really fast,” Balin muttered. “Like those damn Sand Fleas.”

The party shivered.

I used the momentary distraction to step outside and look back at the ‘tavern’. What met my eyes was the oddest thing I’d ever seen. A sheer rock wall stretched out to left and right until it met the ocean and the mountains. Above our heads it went straight up until it intersected the ‘sky’ in a manner not unlike a wall meeting the ceiling. It actually hurt to look at it for too long as my brain tried to comprehend what it was looking at.

“So weird…” I muttered. “Are all dungeons like this?”

“Hard to say,” Starshine said, ignoring the rest of her party as they fell to listing other examples of monsters that could reach and eat me without being spotted. “Greentree you just walk deeper and deeper into the forest. The entirety of Deepcore’s Whitehall is in a cave. I’ve heard tell of dungeons in the Northern Kingdoms that look like this though. Mount Terror for one, or Plainscape in the central plains.”

“Mount Terror sounds fun…” I mused, looking left and right for any other doors or seams in the wall.

“Oh, it’s awful. All dungeons are areas of high mana concentration, and Mount Terror has a high amount of Nether infused Mana. Everything from the monsters to the traps to the terrain is nightmarish. Valuable materials though, which gives it a steady stream of victims.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not ‘adventurers’?”

She shook her head. “No, victims. The survival rate for Mount Terror is incredibly low. There’s a reason we have lots of human adventurers in Kinshasa, even though they have to travel the old road. Deepcore and Greentree are gentle, as far as dungeons go.”

The rest of the party had finished their tete-a-tete, and Balin walked up to plunk a heavy gauntleted hand on my shoulder. “So, Pete. What’s all this, then? Do ya recognize it.”

“It’s not like anything I recognize,” Aishablue said brightly. “And I’ve been to the East, West, and South Coasts.”

I chuckled. “Then you would’ve missed it. This is the NORTH West.”

The Pacific Northwest to be precise.

“Northwest Dungeon,” Flowerpott said, trying the name on his tongue. “No, it sounds stupid.”

“Stupider than Plainscape?” I scoffed.

“Aye,” Raysdotter snickered. “And stupider isn’t even a word.”

Starshine nodded. “They’re right, you need to give it a name Pete. Didn’t the Ability say the Dungeon was unnamed?”

[Dimensional Dungeon: Unnamed]. It did indeed.

I turned again to look at the twinkling blue of the ocean far off in the distance. I closed my eyes and let the sea breeze flow over me. The gentle sound of birdsong came unbidden from the fields. Columbia Dungeon? No, it didn’t fit.

I opened my eyes again and looked at the mountains to the East. The plume of a waterfall was just visible on the nearest face of one of the stone giants. I smiled. Yes, that would do nicely. All of the Pacific Northwest sat upon a continental shelf that bore the name of the waterfalls that dotted the mountains and forests.

“Cascadia,” I said, resolutely.

*Ding*

Set Ability Name

You are changing the name of your Ability to [Dimensional Dungeon Cascadia].

Do you accept?

Yes / No

I mentally selected yes.

*Ding*

Ability Name Changed!

Ability name changed to [Dimensional Dungeon Cascadia].

“Cascadia?” Starshine asked, curiously.

“Cascadia,” Flowerpott tried it again. “Damn sight better than ‘Northwest’.”

“What does it mean?” Aishablue asked.

In response I struck into a lilting tune that’d been in my heart since my beaver scout days.

“Land of the silver birch

Home of the beaver

Where still the mighty moose

Wanders at will

Blue lake and rocky shore

I will return once more

Boom did-y-ah-dah

Boom did-y-ah-dah

Boom did-y-ah-dah, boom

Swift as a silver fish

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Thy mighty waterways

Carry me forth

Blue lake and rocky shore

I will return once more

Boom did-y-ah-dah

Boom did-y-ah-dah

Boom did-y-ah-dah, boom

My heart grows sick for thee

Here in the low lands

I will return to thee

Hills of the north.”

As I came down from the lilting tune by Michael Mitchell to one of Canada’s most famous folk songs, I took a bow. There was some dutiful clapping.

“That was nice.” Starshine smiled. “Did you write it?”

“Doesn’t tell me anything about the name.” Flowerpott muttered.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s named after all the cascading waterfalls.”

“What waterfalls?” Raysdotter compalined.

“What’s a moose?” Aishablue asked.

—

The next short while was a flurry of activity as the outside came inside. The Liminal Inn, as I was calling it in my head, was absolutely monstrous, and even with Barck’s letter the Dukes weren’t taking any chances. They had as much of the army as they could muster clearing every room in the building. Even then, this place swallowed them up with little effort.

Speaking of the letter, I pulled up a stool on the bar and gave it another read.

‘Bartender,

I see you've absconded with my cellar. I’ve taken the liberty of taking it back, but poured a little extra oomph into your Ability to make up for it. I handcrafted the tavern, and have made it impregnable to the local flora and fauna, and left you some drinks in the cellar to fill the difference.

Only the monsters you let in will be allowed to have access.

Enjoy.

P.S. I will only open a door next to you at your request once a week, and you can only have two extra doors at a time. Anything brought through an entry door cannot exit by any other door, so there’s no shenanigans!

Cheers,

Barck’

I read it a second and third time, trying to make sense of it. It seemed straightforward enough at first glance – Barck had custom made this space for me, personally – but there were some intricacies.

1. This space was protected by a God to ensure all the people in it were safe, hence why we’d moved the operation inside. I didn’t trust Barck as far as I could throw him, but the Dukes were calling the shots.
2. There were monsters out there, but they wouldn’t be able to get into the tavern or out of the dungeon. Though I might want to let some in? What? Why?
3. My infinite alcohol glitch was broken, again, and this time I hadn’t even gotten to try it out. My elven wine!!!
4. Barck would indeed open doors at my request; up to two. We wouldn’t be able to use them to teleport people around Erd, or as a trade nexus, but my dungeon would still be able to be used as a social hub for up to three different locations on opposite ends of the world.

As I sat contemplating, The two Dukes arrived and sat next to me on either side, their presences looming under the circumstances.

“So, Pete. I think we have a problem.” Duke Schist sighed.

“Aye, that we do, Lord Roughtuff.” Duke Barnes echoed his sigh, her sculpted brows furrowed. “May we have a drink, Bartender?”

I nodded, hopping off my seat and walking around to one of the many swinging doors set into the excruciatingly long bar. There was a keg filled with some of our Liquid Gold set up for any thirsty explorers, and I poured them each a tankard.

“I almost wish we weren’t sending you to the elves now.” Schist groaned. “Yer practically a national treasure. Between the brewin’ and now this? We’re going to need to send you with more guards.”

“We could keep him here?” Barnes said thoughtfully. “Lock him somewhere safe and throw away the key? My daughter may have some ideas of where.”

I snorted at the thought and the two Dukes chuckled.

Schist frowned. “Nah, we want him to go, actually. Some cultural exchange would do our nations some good. Like Ambassador Stannard’s been saying, the past octamillenium has been far too insular. It would do us all some good ta spread about some entrances to this place. The Elven capital is right on the border of North and South Erden, so it sees a lot of traffic from both directions. It’s a perfect spot for one of his doors.”

“And obviously, one in Kinshasa.” Duke Barnes was quick to put in.

“Aye,” Schist agreed, adding “and maybe he’ll keep one in case he needs ta make a quick escape. He’s needed more than a few of ‘em in the past.”

“Do I get a say in this?” I complained.

“No. You’re lucky we don’t lock you up and throw away the key.” Duke Barnes growled. “This Ability of yours is a Godsdamn threat. Even if you can’t transport armies or goods, it’s still too much for one dwarf to handle. Given enough time, any clan that controls this space could contest the local government of wherever they have a door.”

“I mean, it’s not a banned Ability, right?” I laughed dryly, but it sounded forced even to my ears.

“Who would have tha’ foresight to ban something like this? We’re gonna need you to make some oaths. And see about writing’ some new laws just for you.” Schist drank deep from his tankard. “You’ve just made so much work for us. You owe me some more fishin’ time when it’s done.”

“Your saving grace is that letter.” Duke Barnes said, swirling her beer around in her tankard and taking an appreciative sip. “This Ability is clearly a gift from Barck. Most likely for all the innovation you’ve sparked in brewing. And no government particularly wants to go around banning gifts from the Gods.”

“Hah! Some might be fool enough!” Schist guffawed.

“Speaking of which, the Adventurer’s Guildmaster is here somewhere.” Duke Barnes remarked, looking around. “He snuck in with the army, but I recognized him. He’s likely scouting the rooms right now. He’ll be wanting a Guild kiosk in here, and may make threats about banning adventurers from coming.”

“Great.” I grumbled. “You know, I was so excited about this, but it’s turning into a pain.”

“What did you expect when ya used a Worldstone on a Godly Ability?” Schist shook his head. “You got something that could shake the world.”

“I recommend you turn the Guildmaster down for now.” Duke Barnes continued. “You’ve already got a team exploring the dungeon, and you won’t want the guild meddling in it until you know more. In fact, don’t even meet him, see how long you can hold him off. Get Team Brightstar to stay away from the Guild until they’re done as well, though that may be harder.”

Duke Schist twiddles his moustache. “Actually. I may have an idea for that. Let me look into it and I’ll get back to you.”

Annie plunked down at the bar next to the two of them, her face wan. “Pour me a drink.” She demanded. I did so and passed it to her; she drained it in one desperate gulp. “Another!” She gasped.

“You’re gonna drain the whole keg.” I muttered.

“I don’t care. What by all tha’ bits of the Gods are we going to do with this, Pete? I was excited at first, but this is a nightmare!” Her hands on the bar were trembling.

“Move in?” I assayed. “This place is even safer than the Goat. Near impregnable really, since I can always just move the doors. There’s tons of space, and we can convert some of the bedrooms to a clan living space.”

Annie groaned. “We just finished getting fully settled in the new Goat. Are we really gonna move the whole clan again?”

“That’s not a bad plan.” Duke Barnes nodded her head, her braided beard bouncing on the bar. “You’ll want to take control of this space before you start inviting adventurers or patrons in.”

“Patrons?” Annie choked.

Duke Schist looked pleased as punch about the idea. “I’ll see where you can put yer door, Pete. Since it looks like we won’t need to worry about a Monster Stampede, it should be fine to put it somewhere in Redwall. All you need is a blank wall after all! Hope you won’t be too upset if I put you on the opposite side of the city from Riverside? Hah!”

Annie was practically steaming at this point. “There’s no way we could run a tavern this big! There’s too much space!”

“Eh, it’s fine. We can just set up partitions to block most of it off until the clan gets big enough to handle it.” I waved her concerns away nonchalantly.

“And how are we gonna do that!? Again, if we take on that many new hires, we won’t be a clan anymore!”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Eh. I’m sure you and Balin can figure out a way to increase the clan.”

Duke Barnes choked on her beer and Duke Schist snorted. Annie’s face went through the various spectrums of red before finally ending on ‘Chartreuse’, which I’d always considered a terrible name for a colour.

She made some vaguely threatening gestures. “Pete! I’m gonna shave every hair off yer body!!!”

“Yech, are you into that sorta thing? I should warn Balin.”

“ARRGHHH!!!!”