Beers and Beards: A Cozy Dwarf Tale

Valarienne, Chosen Catalyst of Yearn, sighed as he relaxed in his lounge chair on the deck of the Seafoam Surprise. The svelte schooner plowed through the waves with a ruler straight wake, as sailors performed their duties and the flag of Grandia whipped and snapped in the stiff breeze. The scent of brine and wax permeated the air, and the sun beat down on the deck as though it sought to set the ship on fire. He adjusted his blouse and unbuttoned his vest to take full advantage of the warm sunlight.

He swept an errant blonde hair from where it was bothering his nose, and scratched at his chin. The constant need to shave was annoying, but at least he was what his old self would have considered ‘dashing’. A lithe muscular frame, if short for a giant, and a bright smile with good straight teeth. He smiled at a passing sailor, who tripped on his mop bucket and went down with a series of oaths.

Things had gone surprisingly well so far. Especially as far as the other Chosen were concerned. Val had been a bit concerned at the start, especially given what stories he’d been able to dig up regarding previous Great Games. But meeting the other Chosen in Tree had been practically pleasant!

He could definitely see himself getting along well with Mirelda, and Peter seemed nice, if a bit unserious. That aspect of him was one of the reasons Val hadn’t asked for more help beyond the beaven. Pete was not one for tight lips, and he’d probably run straight to one of the Dukes or the King of the elves if things got really hairy.

He already had, in fact.

At least Crack and Awemedinand’s responses seemed measured. The Tender Sprites, as fellow victims of the old King, were being given a small measure of clemency. If they promised not to attack any adventurers, and continued tending to the spiritual herbs of Anima Dungeon, they wouldn’t be subject to a subjugation force.

Yet.

If Ezrael hadn’t been burned at the stake, Val would’ve found a way to kill old king himself. All that planning, all that preparation, all that peacemaking, up in smoke.

Much like the old King.

And the worst part was being unsure if his own Goddess didn’t have a hand in it. Who knew what that maniac was really after? Was it just the joy of something new and the chaos of uncontrolled sapience? But Chaos was Solen, not Yearn. Did she take joy in the complex new webs of relationships that were springing up as dungeons became more than just landmarks, but nations in their own right? She was the Goddess of relationships.

Val thought back to when he’d met the mercurial Goddess and shivered. He’d prefer not to remember, actually.

He popped the cork on the lovely clay-pot drinking vessel Peter had given him – he’d called it an onggi – and took a swig of the soju. Phew! It was some heady stuff! Just what he needed right now. The beedles had been standoffish, and somewhat alien, though Henbeetta had been personable enough. There was something about a sapient race so utterly devoted to a single being that was just… odd.

At least they were already a protected species in the dungeon, which took a load off.

Wind. Waves. And relaxation. Maybe he needed a vacation soon too. Kirk had said that Brightstar and the other Chosen were going to spend the next few months just relaxing in Grandia. Henbeetta was probably with them by now. Perhaps he could go on vacation too?

Assuming they survived running into the trolls of course. They were skirting the far eastern edge of a massive storm that the trolls had set up to cover the entire archipelago. And wasn’t that a neat trick. Val believed that one or more of them had absorbed a boss core, because that was the only way he could think of to impact such a large area. Black clouds sat on the horizon, crackling with lighting, yet the water beyond was calm and crystal clear.

Yes. He could definitely use a vacation. He already had the wind and the waves, all he needed now was –

*Bing!*

A notification. Of course. Val took another deep drink of soju. He really didn’t need a notification right now. He toggled it open and read it. It took a few tries until he was able to understand what it was saying.