Solo In High Spirits

[Verin Rush]

*

61st Day of Spring, 514AV

The ferry ride was a long one; Verin had always hated the water… even the temperate waters of Lake Ravok had enough turbulence to make the Rush scion feel nauseous. To make matters worse, listening to the tales of the other passengers and the ferryman talk of the sea monster that supposedly lived in the great depths of their lake was causing his stomach to churn even more.

It was not the first time that Verin had heard tell of this beast, the “Fish” that was eating all the other fish, causing a noticeable food shortage in the city. He had often had to field questions and requests from patrons who wanted to be served fish at The Malt House. And tales of the beast were not uncommon in the work place; he heard, and partook, in many of the conversations. It wasn’t necessarily that he believed all of the rumours that were spreading like wildfire through Rhysol’s beautiful domain. Each day the tales became more and more fantastical, more extreme, more unbelievable… but he couldn’t deny that something large and predatorial was feeding on the fish that Ravok’s citizens relied on for sustenance.

With a wobbly motion, Verin stood and moved away from the gossiping men and women on the ferry, clinging to anything he could in order to balance himself as he made his way over to a more removed seat. He didn’t understand where his sickness came from – he was fine when travelling in the ravosalas, it was just the longer boat journeys. When he could avoid it, he would, but today, Grayson had asked him to head to the shore so that they could quickly replenish their lost whisky stocks.

The Malt House, recently burgled of many items, had sold more of the whisky than ever, and their next shipment was not due until the end of the season. Grayson had said that he hoped a few more bottles of whisky would keep them going for that time. However much he hated the trips to the shore, Verin could not turn his employer, and friend, down; the man had done too much for him, been more of a father figure than his own father had turned out to be. If he thought properly about it, Verin would quite probably murder if Grayson had good reason to ask him to.

High Spirits Distillery was a large complex, located on the shores, not very far from the Kelvic Research Institute. He knew one of the more junior distillers there, and was looking forward to their meeting again, which was another reason for the tedious trip across the waters. Eventually, the ferry docked on the shore and Verin waited impatiently for the others to offload before he, too, stood again and shakily disembarked, thanking the ferryman as he did.
*

[Verin Rush]

*

The few chimes of walking along the path from where he docked to the Distillery gave Verin ample time to allow his stomach to settle. Eventually, by the time he reached his destination, the unpleasant sensation remained, but it was not nearly as potent as it had been when he was on the ferry. He inclined his head politely to the workers that he passed as he entered the Distillery compound; he had been here multiple times since he started working at The Malt House, and most employees of the Distillery knew that he was a lover of whiskies; such a person was always welcome at the Distillery.

As he entered the main building, he was met by his predecessor at the well-established tavern, Gentner, who was carrying a large barrel. From the strain on his face, Verin deducted that the barrel was full of whisky, “Need any help there, Gentner?” The blond asked mildly, a crooked grin on his features as he watched the man struggle. The bartender knew the strain of holding a barrel which was filled with liquid; often he ended up rolling the barrels of ale at the Malt House, or sliding them along the ground, for ease, and so that he didn’t put his back out.

“Verin! Welcome! Uh… no, no, thank you for… the offer but I can… manage…” Verin’s smile grew, and muttered something about how the man should be used to carrying something so heavy, after years of doing the work. The dirty look he received was worth it. He followed the man through to one of the storage rooms, at which point he did help to heave the baller up onto one of the higher platforms. Gentner didn’t stop him and he soon felt the strain of the weight in his arms, where the veins stared protruding and his muscles tensed at the effort it took.

“Are you sure it’s just whisky in this thing? You haven’t gotten it confused with lead?” The younger man panted as they both pushed, “I could swear that ale isn’t as heavy as this.” Finally, it was up on the shelve, and one last push ensured that it was stable, before the pair both took a step back.

“Funnily enough, I’ve complained of the same thing to Hadrias, many times. He thinks I’m talking shyke…” the distiller smiled as he rubbed his sweaty hands against his trouser legs, and the pair left the room and ambled slowly along the corridor. It was then that Gentner took Verin in properly for the first time, “I like the cloak, is it new?”

“Mhmm,” Verin agreed, proud of his recent acquirement, “A gift from the Black Sun. You heard of the incident at the execution of the remaining Rising Dawn members?” Gentner nodded, “I assisted with the capture of the archer. Saw him run. The Black Sun saw fit to reward me.” It was clear from Verin’s smile that this was a big deal to him, and Gentner clapped his old protégé on the back. “Good for you, Verin. Now… what brings you across the waters to our humble Distillery?”
*

[Verin Rush]

*

“There was a burglary at The Malt House recently, Gentner. Grayson’s alright, pretty shaken up, but he’s fine. We cleared the mess the next day, but obviously lots of the wine, and most of the whisky was stolen, along with a sizeable portion of the money. Recently, for some reason, more and more people are ordering whiskey, even though we only have the older stuff in at the moment.” Gentner snorted at that; when he was in Ravok, he would often come into the tavern, and would invariably drink something other than whisky. He said that being surrounded by it most days could put a man off even the most beautifully aged bottle. Verin suspected that the man drunk his fair share when he was down here anyway.

“I’d imagine people think it’s like the fish problem; running low so soon it will all be gone.” Both workers knew that they could fit a ravosala through the holes in that flawed logic, but Verin knew that if it brought in business, he wasn’t going to complain, or set people straight. “That ‘fish’ people keep talking of cannot get hold of our wheat and barley. There ain’t no way we’ll run out of crops to make our whisky. Could eventually becom a problem when we try to get the stuff for you… but for now, I wouldn’t worry.”

The Rush twin nodded in agreement as he pushed open the door at the end of the corridor, and the pair walked into what might be described as an office, though Verin often thought of it as the place where parchment came to die – ledgers and notes were piled high, or strewn across the desks and floor. Often he had wondered how the distillery did not go out of business, just because of their poor bookkeeping abilities. Behind one desk, head bent down over one list, was the owner of the Distillery, Hadrias, who glanced up as the two younger men approached.

“Ah, young Verin Rush, welcome. I received your message just earlier today… didn’t give me much time to prepare, did you?”Verin opened his mouth, planning on explaining the difficulty of finding a boy to cross to the lakeshore; many were no longer risking it, especially those who had fallen to the fear-mongering. But he thought better of it, knowing that Hadrias wasn’t a man to listen to excuses. “I can come back on another day if that suits-”

“Nonsense, nonsense. It’s no matter, we have what you’re after… it was only the younger bottles that you required, yes?” Verin nodded in the affirmative, “I bottled a load of whisky this morning. That should tide you over until we can send you a proper delivery at the end of the season. If you could just fill out the details here, that would be grand.”

Verin stepped over to the desk and accepted the charcoal and parchment off of Hadrias. Leaning down, he carefully noted the quantities of each bottle that he required today, to return to Ravok with. A he wrote, Hadrias watched and chipped in occasionally with estimated numbers of what he thought he had ready to go, and Verin copied those numbers down. Most of what he was returning to the city with were bottles that had not been aged. A foul version of what should be a beautiful whisky, he thought, but many did not have the money, or even the culture, to think to buy something more expensive.
*

[Verin Rush]

*

Almost finished with writing down the details on the ledger, Verin looked up to the ageing gentleman, “Do you want me to write down the details of payment too?” Verin didn’t often deal personally with High Spirits Distillery; as the owner of the tavern, that job was normally reserved for Grayson. But the owner could not leave his tavern at this point, or did not want to, which was why Verin was here. The question was more of an enquiry as to how the exchange actually happened.

Hadrias remained silent for a moment, considering the options. Finally he responded, asking Verin to make a note that payment should come with the payment for the delivery at the end of the season. Verin wondered whether the Malt House would have enough money to make the payment; he had not seen how much was actually stolen. But he acquiesced – Grayson could deal with it later, and he knew that Hadrias could be a reasonable man when doing business with a long-standing partner. In his untidy cursive, he tried to avoid making too many blotches as he made note of when the payment was due.

He slid the materials across the desk when he was finished and straightened up. The stance of his body alluded to the fact that he was not looking forward to the trip back to the shore, especially with the sheer amount of bottles that he would be bringing back with him. Hadrias noticed that, and reached under his desk, where he pulled out a bottle which Verin immediately recognised as a forty seasons aged bottle of whiskey. “Gentner and one of the other boys will be assisting you with carrying the bottles, but that lad is a little busy right now, so you may as well have a seat and a drink whilst you wait.”

Verin returned the grin, and sat as Hadrias poured out three drams of the strong alcohol, and slid two across, one each for Verin and Gentner. “If I recall correctly, you’re the lad who doesn’t like extended ferry journeys? That’ll surely settle your stomach.” He raised the glass, and the powerful smell instantly penetrated his nostrils, clearing them, and stinging his eyes. It was not, however, an unwelcome sensation, and he pressed the tumbler to his lips and lifted is slowly, so that a few droplets of the fiery liquid could pass into his mouth.

He felt the dichotomy of the cool liquid burn his tongue, the high alcohol content forcing his taste buds into life as he swilled it around his mouth. Then, the dark liquid drained to the back of his throat, and he squinted a little as he felt is sear the flesh as it flowed down into him. Despite enjoying the sensation, he could not help the slight cough that forced its way up, trying to alleviate the tickling pain in his throat. “The only time I spend in the Malt House is spent working. I rarely have the time to drink what I serve daily.”

Hadrias and Gentner murmured in sympathy, though it was clear that they didn’t suffer the same issue, as he watched them both neck their drinks with ease. But he wasn’t going to rush his drink; this was his time to relax and enjoy the taste of his drink, not to waste it. He was also keen to remember that his tolerance for alcohol was not high, and he had to remain in a suitable condition to take the whisky back to the city. So he relaxed into his chair and engaged in small talk with his friends as nursed his dram of whisky until the other boy was finished with his work.
*

[Abstract]

Grade Awarded!

Verin

Skills

~ Observation - 2
~ Socialization - 3

Lores

~ The Rumor of the Giant Fish
~ Ravok: High Spirits Distillery
~ Gentner: Old Friend, Distillery Worker

Other

N/A

Notes

Not too much to give skill-wise, but it was a nice thread!