Beers and Beards: A Cozy Dwarf Tale

I, Peter Roughtuff, co-owner of Whistlemop’s Wonders and the Thirsty Goat Brewpub, reincarnated human from Canada, and Chosen Shaker of the God Barck, was having a bad day.

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The kind people wrote children’s books about. My beard was frizzing, a goat had eaten half my breakfast, and my office was being attacked by a horrible monster that spoke in arcane riddles. A sphinx that taxed my patience and my business. I was on the Highway to Hell.

“If you’d please examine Column B on Form #244A2 you’ll see that the numbers from Columns C and Y on Form #244A1 have been added incorrectly.” The gnome seated in front of me pointed at a column filled with math, which looked identical to all the other columns and pages filled with math. “The number is far too high, and it is increasing your tax bracket considerably.”

For the tenth time today, I considered pointing out that as the Chosen of a God, I had deity bestowed duties involving the brewing of alcohol to get to. And for the tenth time today, I dismissed it as a terrible plan - no matter how delicious it would be to watch the egghead from City Hall fall over in shock.

“Hello? Here?” The white haired gnome in a plain-grey pinstripe business suit pointed insistently at the page.

I dragged myself closer and peered at it bleary-eyed. We’d been at this for a couple days already, and I was close to being driven to drink. A feat, considering the horrid taste of dwarven brew.

“Looks like numbers.” I muttered.

The gnome, an actual Titled [Accountant] named Silverpen sighed. “Mr. Roughtuff, I understand this is your first time performing business taxes in the country of Crack. That is partly why City Hall has assigned me in particular to your case. I assure you that with a little more effort the forms are more than easy to understand. Here, [Bestow Clarity].”

A blue box popped into my vision with a *Bing!*

An [Accountant] is trying to grant you the [Calm] Condition.

Do you accept?

Yes/No

I hit yes and another box popped up. *Bing!*

Condition Gained: [Calm]!

You have gained the [Calm] Condition!

I felt the tension drain out of my temples, and the world snapped into focus.

I looked around my desk in the small corner office of the Thirsty Goat Brewpub. Every inch of it was covered in paperwork, and there were even piles on the floor that reached my knee. Ugh, what a mess. Maybe I could let Penelope handle it? She’d eat all this math right up. Literally, just like my breakfast. She was the finest pilfering goat I’d ever met.

Back in the Okanagan, I’d left everything to my accountant, Jebediah. Between him and all the fancy tax tools provided by the Canadian government, tax time was easy - if annoyingly expensive. My dear Caroline always said that I was a bit of a grizzly bear during tax time, but who wasn’t?

In dwarven society, everyone had to get a yearly audit. A yearly, freaking, audit - for the big companies, anyway. And with my business empire stretching to include nearly all the bottle-making in Minnova, a chunk of the local beer business, and a thriving brewpub, I counted as big enough. According to Silverpen, my taxes were ‘extra exciting’ because they involved two entirely disparate businesses. Furthermore, a significant portion of it was owed to the city for licensing their coat of arms, as well as for owning a Main Store in the local Grand Market.

I’d begged Annie to help me with it, but she’d refused. She had ‘important business to attend to regarding personnel hiring in the brewpub’ and I ‘needed the experience.’ I didn’t need [Truespeech] like Aqua to know that was a load of baloney. She just wanted to watch me squirm. She didn’t get an audit, as the Thirsty Goat Brewpub alone wasn’t quite big enough to warrant one. I know Whistlemop did, and my weasley little business partner had spent the last month trying to bury his money in tax-deductible investments. He was looking forward to seeing how much stayed hidden from his auditor. I’d been too preoccupied to do so, and was now paying the price.

All told, I was going to be paying well over half of my considerable income in taxes.

I took a deep breath and used this precious moment of [Calm] to focus on the task at hand. Well, that and my handy dandy Ability [Mental Maths], which gave me an additional four points to intelligence when doing math.

I pointed at the column Silverpen had circled. “That number is combined from Columns C and Y, but it also includes Column A from Form #13325. Here.” I leafed through the papers on my desk and passed one to the nerdy gnome.

He took it with a look of slight surprise and read it over. “Fascinating. I’ve never actually met someone with income from a City Indenture Early Release before. My goodness, this is quite a lot of gold. What on Erd did you make, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The city of Minnova is currently in the midst of a boomin’ trade in Boomdust thanks to yours truly.” I knocked my fist against my chest in a dwarven salute. It *tunked* against the leather padding inside my armoured suit. Even after two years, I still wasn’t quite used to the dwarven penchant for wearing armour everywhere.

“Ah, that new mining technique I heard about from accounting? That was you?” Silverpen gave an appreciative nod. “That’s been very lucrative for the city. I understand there is now a large bounty up on Fireash treants. They’re becoming scarce at the edges of Greentree. Hmmm… [Sense Errors]. No, even with the additional income the form is still incorrect.”

I groaned. “How?”

Silverpen shrugged. “Likely a missing form, or an incorrect value on another page. [Sense Incomplete].” He scanned the piles of paper and grabbed several of them at seemingly random - his Ability had probably pointed them out as relevant. “Yes, see here? You haven’t filled out Column F on form #13324 to indicate your status as an indentured miner in the City of Minnova Reform Mine at the start of last year. The income on your form #13325 is your net income after taxes. All monies received as part of the City Indenture Early Release are taxed at a flat rate by the city before they are transferred to the recipient.”

I took that in and then stared at the page in shock. “That’s the gold after taxes!?”

Silverpen nodded. “Yes. Congratulations.”

I stared in shock at the page. There were… a lot of zeros on it.

Condition Lost: [Calm]!

You have lost the [Calm] Condition!

Silverpen lifted my limp hand and put a pen in it. “If you would just initial here, indicating acceptance of the change to Column B we can move on to your holdings in the Grand Market.”

—

Two days later I was finally free. Once Silverpen realised I was ‘new money’ and verified my ‘amnesia’ with City Hall records he was pleased as punch to give me a full runthrough in accounting.

I wasn’t going to turn down free lessons from an expert, and I learned more about dwarven accounting in the past couple days than I had in six months with Richter and Whistlemop. It had been taxing but totally worth it. Nyuck.

“I’ll send you a note when the funds clear from the bank.” Silverpen said as he packed up his leather briefcase.

“Thanks again for all your help,” I opened the door of the office for the dapper [Accountant], “and I hope City Hall enjoys the piles and piles of gold I’m sendin’ them. Sorry that you got stuck with me fer so long.”

“I must admit that I had a bit of influence in my appointment here,” Silverpen coughed, “I’m a bit of a drinker myself, and I was interested in meeting the dwarf causing so many waves in the gnomish and drinking communities.”

“Eh? Howso?” I paused. As far as I knew the majority of our clientele were dwarves. Gnomes simply weren’t a fan of the thin and sour taste of dwarven True Brew ale. I couldn’t blame them. Some of them liked the Light Brew lager, but we didn’t make that here.

“Well you see, Mr. Roughtuff, when you’re quite a bit shorter than the average dwarf you notice when there’s a sudden increase of flatulence around the city. You’re a bit of a black sheep after the Ass-Blaster Ale incident I’m afraid.”

“Oh. Ohhhhh! Yearns Yams, I’m so sorry!” Oh dear Gods, I hadn’t even thought of that! I’d just been so happy with how well the Brewer’s Guild Feud went!

Silverpen actually chuckled, “Regardless, Minnova appreciates your hard work, and I personally look forward to seeing what new things you invent Mr. Roughtuff. Between the Boomdust, the Ass-Blaster, and the bottles sweeping through the Brewer’s Guild you’ve had quite the influence on our fair city in one short year.”

I smiled, my consternation momentarily forgotten, “Ah yes, quite the influence.”

I pulled up a quest that had been aggravating me for the past month.

New Quest: Dwarven Influencer Part 7/10

The dwarves need your help. Influence 1,000,000 dwarves with your otherworldly alcohol knowledge.

Dwarves Influenced: 365,467/1,000,000

Rewards: [Pete’s Poor Manasight]

As I watched, the count ticked up by a pathetic single dwarf. After rising like a rocket for several months following the release of our New Brew, it looked like I had completely tapped out the Minnova beer market. I hadn’t quite gotten 100% of Minnova’s population, but I suspected that every impressionable dwarf was influenced at this point. I needed to cast a wider net or I was never going to get that manasight ability!!! It was time to think about cross-country shipping, and I wanted to try using [Refine Brew] on a few new magic ingredients to see if that helped.

I also have a great idea for my first ‘real magic’ brew, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get the magical diagrams right after one or two more lessons with Richter. I’d even gotten a bonus intelligence out of my lessons with him, alongside a couple additional boosts from some quests and hard work as well. All told, my character sheet looked pretty good!

Status: Provided by the Firmament

Name: Peter Roughtuff

Age: 50

Conditions: [Blessed]

Race: Dwarf

Blessings: [Flesh to Stone], [Flash of Insight], [Strength of All: Held], [Regeneration], [Minimap], [Refine Brew]

Title: [Otherworldly Brewer]

Milestones: [Power Pick], [Basic Slash], [White Lie], [Mental Maths], [Big Money], [Bottomless Barrel]

Strength: 15.4

Vitality: 19 [23]

Agility: 12

Dexterity: 13

Wisdom: 14.4

Intelligence: 14

Perception: 18.2

Charisma: 15

No more Milestones unfortunately, but I could feel it in my bones that I was getting close to getting some more!

I was really starting to notice the difference of a higher perception and charisma - especially when it came to interpersonal relationships. I always seemed to know the right thing to say, and I could spot small inconsistencies and lies much more easily.

For example, from the way Silverpen was shifting from foot to foot and making slight glances in my direction, I could tell he either A) needed to leave to use the bathroom, B) was attracted to me and working up the courage to confess, or C) wanted a favour but was afraid of asking. Option C was the most likely, unless Silverpen had a dashing and debonair dwarf fetish I was unaware of.

I decided to make things a little easier on him, “You've been an amazing help, Silverpen, and I really appreciate the time you took to teach me the ropes. If there’s any way I can make it up to you let me know.”

Silverpen’s face grew gaunt, “I am unable to accept bribes Mr. Roughtuff, or accept anything that could call my impartiality into question.”

“Of course! I wasn’t thinking of anything so crude as a bribe! However, if I could get you a bottle of beer as you leave, or a piece of our memorabilia, surely no-one would begrudge you something like that.”

“Unfortunately the Ordinances are quite clear that City Hall employees cannot receive anything with a monetary value exceeding a single gold.” Silverpen fidgeted, ”However, I would be interested in one thing…”

“Feel free to ask, I’m happy to provide just about anything.”

“It’s small, but I noticed it while we were sitting in your office, and I’ve been desperate to get my hands on it for a while now…”

Wow, with a line like that I really, really, hoped it wasn’t Option B.