Brewing Bad Ch. 51-52

Tossing in a bonus chapter this week to bring Brewing Bad to 11 ahead of the public. Enjoy!

Ch. 51 - Everything at Once

The following week was a blur. People came and went, things got done, and most importantly, money was spent. A lot of money was spent.

It actually shocked Lucas how quickly golden dragons were going out the door. Until now, the figure in Kar’Gandin’s logs had only ever gone up, but now that trend was reversing, and after paying deposits and haggling for bulk orders, they were back down below fifty golden dragons in the strong box that they kept in the partially finished root cellar that would become his new lab in another week or two. 

This was despite the fact that he’d made another thirty dragons by selling Blue to nobles at smaller get-togethers, and another shipment had been sent to the Knights of Brass. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d thought even a single dragon was a lot of money, but that was before he’d had to deal with guild envoys about anything formal.

“It takes money to make money,” he told himself, but as true as it was, that still didn’t make him feel any better. Day by day he could feel his future tavern slipping away. 

Still, everything was going full speed, and except for the occasional invitation to dine with some of his new friends, there had been no problems. Piles of wrought iron posts were being delivered, new men with experience had been hired to help whip some of their earnest young farmers into shape, the manor was being painted, and most importantly, Blue was getting made. 

At this point, Lucas was the limiting factor more than anything. It wasn’t like he could trust someone else to make his drug, and he couldn’t make it while he was off hobnobbing with the various ne'er-do-wells of the most important local families, either.

Lucas had let Adin try to make healing potions twice more before giving up on him as a lost cause. Instead, he’d recruited a local apothecary to handle some of the mundane potions that needed to be made and free up some time. She spent more time midwifing and scolding the village boys than brewing potions, but he had only needed to take a look around the prepared herbs in her shop to see that she knew her business better than Adin ever could. 

Casarra had no magical gifts, but she was just fine at following directions. If she put the right ingredients in the right proportions, then she got a pretty decent result every time. She was also a pretty redhead who wasn’t too much older than him, though he did his best to ignore those gifts and keep his eyes on the work at hand. 

“Are you sure you want to mix sagethorn root and silver leaf together?” she’d asked after he met with her the first time to see if she had what it took to be his understudy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lucas asked, confused. 

“Well, they aren’t compatible, elementally speaking,” she said, pointing the little chart on her wall. “sagethorn is earth aligned, but its roots have a bit of water in them, and silverleaf has an air element. Typically, you would…what?”

She stopped talking and looked at Lucas as he rolled his eyes. Lucas sighed and explained, “Listen, I know that’s what all of you say about this stuff. That elemental alignment is key to making a good potion, but—”

“It’s true,” she said, getting up in his face. It took him a second to realize she was actually getting angry about it. “It's the lack of elemental alignment in various ingredients that generates the toxins in potions. That’s why usually you would use pharra root or the ground pits of an alcot fruit or… What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

It turned out that she was one of those women that got hotter when they got angry, and he was close enough now that he tempted to kiss her, but he resisted. He needed her help, and there wasn’t exactly another apothecary in a one horse town like Meadowin that he could ask. 

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head to push the urge further back. “I don’t disagree that those things matter, but we can bypass that problem with the alcohol step like I told you. It leaches out the umm… incompatible elements and the potions work just fine.”

She looked at him skeptically for a moment. Then she nodded and leaned back, mollified while she continued to mix the potion as his instructions specified.

The truth was, elements were rarely mentioned on his little alchemy pop-ups, so he didn’t give a shit about them. To the other alchemists of the world, their adherence to that bit of wisdom bordered on obsession, but he ignored it. If something had compatible stats, he mixed them together. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t. In either case, he wrote it down.

As far as he was concerned, the main consequence of the elemental obsession was that some ingredients were incredibly expensive because they were “required,” and others were super cheap or seen as nothing more than weeds because they were incompatible with the most popular recipes. 

Lucas didn’t need to rewrite the book or introduce the world to the scientific method, though. It was just one more edge he had over everyone else as far as he was concerned. He didn’t just have secret recipes to make, he had the mind set to go out and create more. 

Besides, they weren’t selling the stuff she was going to be making at this point. Healing potions were now either used to recruit new members, or stock piled to take care of the injured. After all, more gang wars were coming, he was sure of it. 

According to Hura’gh, the fighting in the warehouse districts that sat squarely between meatpackers row and the marketplaces and alleys that the Blind held sway over were becoming a bloodbath, with each retribution and warning inspiring another from the other side. 

The Butchers seemed to be winning now, but how long that could last was anyone’s guess. Lucas was just glad that the two gangs had never figured out who the real culprit had been. The Blind hadn’t even bothered to open new contracts for goblins that anyone had heard about, both because they were so scared in the Greenwood and because they had their hands full. However, without the steady income that dusk and midnight had been providing, they had almost certainly fallen completely on their old habits of petty theft, and that would only further aggravate the guards. 

The whole situation was enough to make him start researching more combat-related potions. Well, enough to order the stuff to do that, at least. He’d been too busy with everything else to put what had already arrived to use, and half of what he needed hadn’t come in yet. 

Potions of strength, speed, and toughness were all well and good and would give his crew an advantage, but there was no reason that Lucas needed to settle for just that. With enough effort, he was sure he could put together some real superhero shit. 

He also needed some better answer for mages that might eventually cross their path. Especially if the Whisperers decided to make a move. Those were probably things he couldn’t solve with potions, though. They would probably need to shell out serious coins for magic items and scrolls. 

Which was, of course, one more expense that would have to be paid. In addition to all the things they were doing to improve their base and make it more defensible, Lucas had put together orders for bigger and more specialized alchemy equipment. By the time the lab beneath the cider house was fit for purpose, he should have a new, larger cauldron and an even bigger copper still. He’d need it too. They were using dozens of gallons of pure grain alcohol every week now. That was enough to get a small army drunk every night. 

Today, he couldn’t worry about any of those things, though. Today he had to get dressed, because instead of cooking up a storm he’d been invited to lunch at the Corrin estate on the far side of Lordanin. This was hardly the first little outing he’d been invited to since the VanDavin’s garden party. They’d been coming so frequently that even Danaria had stopped asking to come with him, and she loved excuses to go out. 

Though they weren’t much more prestigious than the Parrin family, Adin insisted that Lucas do all he could to strengthen this relationship on account of their association with the tax collection franchise. 

“They aren’t popular because they’re too dangerous,” Adin told him as Lucas studied himself in the mirror. “And because they’re so close to the cash flowing through the royal coffers, getting too rich would look bad, don’t you see? They might never be king, but for as long as they appoint tax collectors, they will always be kingmakers.”

Lucas nodded, but he wasn’t paying too much attention. Really, he was trying to decide how much product to bring. The little lordling that was inviting him, had seemed pretty desperate, so he could bring quite the haul. 

How much could I sell the little bastard at once before he ODs? Lucas wondered to himself. 

When he heard Adin go on at length about the family he was visiting and all the ways they were connected to the powers that be, though, he had a different question on his mind. How many vials can I hide discretely, in case this is a trap?

“If these guys are so loyal to the crown, then are you certain I should be doing business with them at all,” Lucas asked. “I’m more interested in low lives and debauched old names that can—”

“No, don’t you see?” Adin asked. “It’s perfect. These are exactly the sorts with the connections we need, and you’re getting leverage on them in the only way one can, with something I… I mean, that they need.”

“Alright then,” Lucas said. “If you’re right, the Blue’s on me when I get home, and if you’re wrong, well, maybe you wait a couple more days.”

Adin flinched at the threat but didn’t complain. He knew better than to do that. Especially when he was only rewarded with the drugs he craved when he proved to be useful. 

“I’m sure,” Adin said, finally. “Everything will be just fine. Wallace has always been a creature of luxury. He’s nothing like his father.”

“We’ll see,” Lucas said, taking a handful of vials before he walked out to his carriage. 

Something about this all felt wrong to him, so instead of going stuffed to the gills like he’d planned, he hid them in the small compartment that remained when they’d installed the new strongbox under the rear bench of the carriage just in case. Theoretically, someone could steal them if he left them unattended this way, but he very much doubted that anyone would rip out the cushions and dig around underneath the heavy-ass, iron-bound box to find them.

He sighed heavily as the carriage got underway. “God damn, I can’t wait until we clear Adin’s name,” Lucas muttered to himself. “Then he can be the dealer, and I can go back to being the fucking cook.”

Ch. 52 - Unexpected

The luncheon was entirely uneventful. Even though Lucas had feared that the man he was meeting would pull a fast one and try to strong-arm him for more Blue, or worse, try to use Lucas to find his “cousin” Adin, nothing of the sort happened. Instead, the two of them had sandwiches with some of his friends, drank wine made from the grapes of the Corrin estate, and mostly just bullshitted about faraway places. 

There was some talk of playing cards, or a round of mallets, which struck Lucas as a croquette like game, though he didn’t really know the rules for either. In the end, the five of them did neither. They just sat around enjoying the warm weather from the comfort of the shade while they traded witty barbs. 

When things were winding down, and Lucas and Wallace were alone, they chatted about other topics. Most predictably was the Blue of course, and whether or not Lucas had managed to procure anymore from friendly ship captains. 

Lucas wasn’t sure if the man believed his cover or not, but deep down, he didn’t really care. All that mattered was the deniability. 

“Of course,” Lucas answered, “But they’re in my carriage, and I wanted to broach another topic before we walk there.” 

Lord Corrin nodded, and Lucas continued. “It’s my cousin, you see, fuck up that he is, he’s family, and I’ve been told that the issue at the heart of his warrant has something to do with crown lands or back taxes?”

“I could look into it,” the lordling volunteered helpfully, eager to curry favor with his dealer. “He’d have to raise substantial sums probably, but the crown often settles, even with fugitives, so long as they get what they owe.”

 “Could you?” Lucas asked, feigning gratitude when all he could think about was how much this was going to cost him. “I don’t know where he is exactly. He might even be dead in a ditch, but I’d much rather have this settled so that he’s not a stain on our family.” 

“Of course,” Lord Corrin agreed. “I understand completely. It will be hard to find your cousin Danaria a proper match as long as that dark cloud is hanging over the Parin family name.”

That he brought up Danaria getting married struck Lucas as strange, but not so strange that he didn’t offer the man a deal and sell him five vials for a crown and a half apiece. They shook hands and parted on good terms, and Lucas vowed to invite the noble to the Parin estate when the renovations that had recently started were finished. 

No, the strangeness didn’t start until they were on their way home, and they found a woman standing in the middle of the road, blocking their way. 

“Want me to go around her?” Mort asked, “It could be a trick of highwaymen.”

Lucas frowned. Highwaymen this close to the city were unheard of, but then well-dressed women simply standing in the middle of a well-rutted road seemed more than unlikely as well. 

Lucas leaned his head out the window to get a good look at her, and he didn’t like what he saw. It was the veil that covered her eyes and nose. That was the detail that gave her away. Well, that and the damned smile. “The fucking Whisperers,” Lucas swore softly. 

He had Mort rein in the horses, and he exited the carriage to approach her on foot. Not too closely, though, because he remembered that damn scroll they’d had last time and the chunk they’d taken out of the wall. 

“You know, we just keep meeting like this. I’m sure if you’d wanted to join us for some sandwiches, I’m sure the Corrin’s would have let you hang out,” Lucas said, stopping twenty feet from the mystery woman. “You don’t have to keep meeting me at desolate crossroads. People will talk.”

The mystery woman smiled a little more broadly at that, but it was a cold smile of white teeth against dark skin. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, she said, “People will talk about what we tell them to Mr. Parin,” in a severe tone. “Don’t you worry about that. The chattering classes are easily led, which is why we were so disappointed to see you stepping on our toes.”

“Your toes?” he asked. “I wasn’t aware that this was your turf.”

“While we were disappointed that you decided not to go into business with us, we respected the decision,” the mystery woman continued. Lucas couldn’t tell if she was answering his question or ignoring it. “To spurn us is one thing, but to poach our clients… you should know that you do this at your own peril. Is it war you’re after? Do you see anything good coming from the fight between dregs of the market district?”

Yeah, that they aren’t trying to kick my ass, Lucas thought with a wry grin. He obviously didn’t say that. Instead, he yelled out, “Look, lady, I’m just trying to sell a little bit of product and make a little bit of money. I’m not political, alright? You are welcome to continue to corner the market on all the gossip and the drama you like. Leave me out of it.”

“Unlikely,” she said flatly. “You mean to tell me that you are slowly chaining the worst parts of the best family in the city to your perverse alchemy, and all you plan to extract from them is petty cash?”

Lucas had to admit that it sounded kind of stupid when he said it like that, way, be he ignored her point. Adin might well be able to play the sort of games she was talking about down the road, but he wasn’t built that way. 

“Listen,” Lucas said. “You can keep your little blackmail ring or whatever it is you’re doing here. I don’t really care. I just want to cash in, sell out, and chillax, alright? Nothing more complicated than that.”

She stood there quietly for a moment. He was sure that she was trying to be menacing, but he found it awfully hard to be menaced by a woman in a dress too cowardly to show her face. To him it felt like some kind of comic book showdown, and if he hadn’t seen the way she vanished in the blink of an eye the last time, he would probably be openly laughing at her. 

“We know where you get your supply,” she said finally. “We can make things very hard for you if we were to cut that off. You’d have a lot of very unhappy customers.”

“Is that so?” Lucas answered as a cold chill ran down his spine. 

“Of course,” she answered. “You might know a captain or two, but do you really think you own more people on the waterfront than we do? ”

“Oh, I see,” Lucas said, hiding his relief. “You want me to cut you in. A partnership of sorts.”

“If that will salve your ego, then yes,” she nodded. “There are still ways for the two of us to be friends.”

“How much do you think this is worth?” Lucas said, suddenly producing a vial of an appropriately blue potion. It wasn’t actually Blue, of course. He’d sold all of those half an hour ago, but a Potion of Clear Thinking was about the right color.

He watched her reaction, such that it was with the veil hiding her eyes, but he saw no desperation or hunger. He was daily certain that she wasn’t actually hooked on the stuff already. She was probably too smart for that. He just waited for an answer. 

“The Knights of Brass pay you half a Dragon per dose,” she said finally. “We’d offered to pay you a silver more than that, but now I’m afraid we’d have trouble going even that high. We have you over a barrel, after all.”

“You have me over a barrel?” he laughed as he uncorked that vial and started to pour it out on the ground in front of him. She jerked initially but managed to stay silent as he threw away a perfectly good dose of what she was looking for. “The Parins of your city might be less than useless, and you might have a great deal of knowledge about what goes on in Lordanin, but don’t think you’ll be able to cut me off from my suppliers when you don’t even know how much Im selling my product for.”

“Oh, we know everything about you and your cousins,” she spat back. “Adin can’t stay ahead of the guard forever. When he returns home, he’ll be—”

“You really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?” he said with a laugh as he realized she had no clue what was going on here. 

She might have her sources, but they were obviously very official, and except for where his business touched that of the Knight’s of Brass, she was clueless. It was a comforting thought. At this point he lingering question was less about who she was, or how she could hurt him, but how she’d known he’d be here if she knew so little about anything else. 

Was it Corrin that sold me out, he wondered. No, he hadn’t seemed nervous enough. Who could it have been… The messenger. That realization hit him like a bolt from the blue and distracted him so much that he almost missed her next point. What was the easiest way to get secrets? To read someone’s private letters. 

“Excuse me?” she demanded in an outraged tone. “You will not speak to me in this fashion.”

“No, not used to it, your highness?” he laughed. “I’m just saying, I think all these plots have your brain a little cross wired. I already told you that I’m in it for the cash. You could just offer me more and I’d sell you more, no questions asked, but you just keep having to play these petty power games, don’t you. Its just who you are.”

This time, Lucas could see the fury radiating off her from here. “We have offered you more, you numbskull. Sadly, that offer is no longer available. You have crossed us twice now. Do so a third time at your peril.”

Before he could respond, she vanished. It wasn’t like last time, where she opened a portal and stepped through it. This time it was more sudden than that. One moment she was there, and the next she was gone. He was fairly certain that it had something to do with invisibility, since he’d made those potions before a time or two, but he wasn’t exactly going to beat the bushes and see if she was hiding there. 

The encounter done, Lucas turned and walked back to the carriage. “You didn’t see anything Mort. You hear me?” Lucas asked. “None of this happened. Got it?”

“Y-yes, sir,” he stuttered, clearly shocked by the woman’s departure. “But what she said, war? Do you think that will really happen?”

“That’s a great question,” Lucas answered as he climbed into the carriage. “That’s exactly the sort of thing I’d expect someone to ask if they had seen anything happen here today.”

He slammed the door behind him and sat in the cab to brood as they started moving again. He had no idea what the fuck he was going to tell the crew about this, but it wasn’t exactly something he could sit on.