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Book 2: Chapter 31: Sam I Am

“Ahoy there! I’m Kirk.” Kirk held his hand out for a fist bump, and Sam tapped it with his own after a moment’s hesitation.

Sam looked around the room with his hands on his hips. “You’ve got a great lookin’ place here! Where’s Balin? How’sabout Wreck? I know she wanted ta see you lot when she got out.”

I shook my head. “Balin’s in tha dungeon right now. He’s workin\' as an adventurer. Wreck never showed up, but Annie should be in the office out back. Kirk, could you go grab her?”

“Aye aye, Bossman.” Kirk gave me a salute and in a few long strides was through the swinging door to the brewroom.

“Bossman, eh?” Sam raised an eyebrow as bushy as my own and smiled with apparent satisfaction. “You’ve been doin’ pretty well fer yerself haven’t ya?”

I grinned. “I’ll say! I Specialised! I’m a [Brewer] now!”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Weren’t ya just Blessed in tha mine!?” He thumped me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you, m’boy!”

I rubbed one finger under my nose across my moustache in embarrassment. “Heh. Wait till you hear the rest of it.”

Annie burst through the swinging doors, her golden hair swaying in a set of pleats. Kirk wasn’t with her, so he must have decided to give us some privacy. “So, where’s this Sam?”

Sam waved. “Hallo! You must be that Annie lass that Balin was so desperate ta get to. I can see why!” He didn’t quite leer; it was more of an appreciative twinkle.

Annie walked over and the two exchanged a fist bump.

“Balin says you were very helpful to him and Pete in the Reform Mine.” Annie said. “As his fiancee, and the head of the Goldstone family, I’d like to thank you. Blessings of the Gods be upon you.” She made a bow that involved scooping her beard up and presenting it to him. It was the most obsequious thing I’d ever seen a dwarf do.

Sam threw back his head and laughed. “Har har har! No need for that! I was just lookin’ after a couple o’ lost lads.”

“It was more than that, Sam. I heard from Grim that you helped them catch Tim. You really looked out for us, so thankee.” I copied Annie and held my beard out with my head bowed.

Sam’s cheeks turned a bit rosier than usual. “Well I was happy ta help. Now, what’s happened while I was stuck inside? I heard some of tha oddest things from me pal Drum and that dink Browning.”

“Browning!?” Annie ground her teeth and smashed a fist down on a table. “What’s that bastard up to now!”

Sam pulled thoughtfully at his beard. “Last I saw him, we’d dumped him in a unigoat pen. They’ve gotten dirty without Pete and Balin around to clean ‘em out. They all miss you ya’know. You lot made things interesting.”

“What? They didn’t like Browning in the mine either?”

“He thinks so highly of ‘imself that he’s got one foot on tha Pinnacle.” Sam shook his head. “Rubs folk, especially tha type in a Reform Mine, tha wrong way. Plus I heard what he did to ya. I made sure he was beggin’ Yearn fer release!”

“Played him the old bagpipes didja?” I smirked.

Sam made a rude gesture. “Nah, I still need ta get ‘em from City Hall. I came here first thing! But he was tryin’ ta get at ya from inside tha’ mine, so we kept him too busy to try.”

Annie frowned. “You helped Pete get connected with Drum too, didn\'t you? It sounds like we really owe you a lot. So, drinks and food are on the house! Bran! Can we get a set of fries?”

“And sandwiches! With white sauce! Just like you used to make them!” I called as well.

Sam looked over at the kitchen. “Bran!? How did he end up here!?”

Bran stuck his head out the serving hatch. “Sign from the Gods, Sam.” He deadpanned. Everyone laughed, but I gulped. That might actually be true.

We sat down to chat about the status of the mine, and what had happened over the past year. Sam was especially excited to hear about all the Octamillenial competitions, and waxed poetically about how they indicated a step forward in dwarven culture.

We fell deathly silent when Bran brought out some fries and a sandwich along with a glass of Ass-Blaster. He stayed to watch, grinning like a fool. Then again, Bran hadn’t really stopped grinning since the cooking contest.

Sam stared down at his plate and poked a fry. “What’s this? And why’s tha beer that colour, with all the bubbles and whatnot? Is this tha new brew Browning was screamin\' about?”

“Try it.” I said.

“Try it, it’s a fry.” Annie nodded.

“Eat it, ya coward.” Bran kicked the picnic bench.

Sam hesitantly put a fry in his mouth and chewed. It crunched between his teeth, giving off that slight sound that only a perfectly browned and blanched fry could. He closed his eyes and chewed more thoroughly, then grabbed a handful and stuffed them in his mouth.

“*Mmmmmmm* By Tiara’s Teats, I fergot how delicious yer cookin’ was Bran!” He said around mouthfuls of fry and sandwich.

We sat to eat ours in silence as well, chuckling at the moaning sounds coming from Sam as he devoured his meal. The chuckles turned into outright laughter as he took a swing of beer then leapt screaming from his chair when his butt erupted with a sound not too unlike a bagpipe.

“What in the elfin Nether was that!!!” He roared.

“Ahahaha!” I wiped a tear from my eye. “That’s our Ass-Blaster! It’s the beer that got Browning sent to prison! Didn’t Drum tell you?”

“I thought he was yankin’ my beard!” Sam stared aghast at his glass then at the three of us, who were all now laughing with tears running down into our beards. Well, Annie and I were. Bran was just chortling.

“It’s real!” I said between gasping breaths.

“And nobody’s burned tha brewery to tha ground yet?” Sam asked with amazement.

That stopped our laughter in its tracks. “Is that… uh, is that likely?” I asked.

“Would\'ve been back when I was a lad.” Sam peered into the softly fizzing drink. “Times really are changin’.” He smiled wide and gulped the entire drink down as fast as possible.

I took a step back “Uh… that may not be the best -“

*BRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPP!!!!*

—

After we’d aired out the room we got to talking about the past year before moving on to Sam’s plans for the future.

“I’m headed to Kinshasa.” He said around a mouthful of crisps. “I’ve been hearin’ about some kinda Great Charter. It sounds right my style. I want ta meet this Thad Harmsson. Mebee give him a hand, or a bagpipe.”

“Great Charter?” Bran scoffed. “What’s so great about it?”

“Hey, we read about that!” I said. “Annie, remember that poster I found? The one asking the King to sign something? It was complaining about the mistreatment of gnomes and the behaviour of the High Lords.”

Annie slowly nodded. “Aye, I remember that.”

“Way I heard it, Thad has been gatherin’ up a lotta the younger nobles, and older common dwarves like me that’re tired o’ tha same thing century after century.” Sam continued. “Drum’ll be comin’ too, along with a few others from our old crew.”

“Your old crew?” Annie asked cautiously.

Sam shrugged. “We did some adventurin’ back in tha day. Our team was torn apart thanks to some damnable lord’s son. It’s a long story, but Drum lost his arm, I… lost me brother, and our party split up. It was a long time ago now.” He hung his head sadly.

There was a heavy silence, and I decided to break it. “Speaking of Drum, Sam. He said that I should ask you about my name.”

Sam\'s face grew sad. “Aye, he said ya changed it. He wouldn’t stop laughin’ about it. And what kinda name is Roughtuff?”

Annie bristled. “A perfectly acceptable one!”

“Do you know why?” I asked.

Sam practically growled. “Why ya changed it? I’m not a [Telepath].”

“Nooo, why he was laughin’!”

Sam bounced his knees for a moment, then shook his head. “If ya want to know so much, come find me in Kinshasa. Yer trying to get into this brewin’ contest right? Think of it as yer reward fer winnin’, eh.”

“I already won mine.” Bran put in, nonchalantly. “You can tell me. I won’t tell Pete.”

I glared daggers at him.

Sam thought for a second. “Nah, I’ll tell Pete first, but only if he wins.”

“Well then!” Annie declared, and raised her tankard of New Brew. “Here’s to winning the brewing contest, and Sam’s release from indenture!”

We toasted and drank back the fizzy brown pisswater. Ugh. I was becoming more and more dwarfy by the day, why weren’t my tastebuds changing to match?

An hour later it was almost time for the dinner rush, and Sam said his farewells.

“You watch out fer yerself, you hear me son?” He clutched me by the neck and banged our helmets together. “Yer doin’ somethin’ dangerous here. Even if it hasn’t hurt you yet. Things’ll be different if you make it to the Capital. I’ll run interference best I can, but you make sure to watch yer back. Never know when there’ll be some noble’s hired killer lookin’ to put an axe in it.”

I shivered. “We’ll be fine. We’ll have the famous adventurer Balin of Goldenlight looking after us.”

He laughed at that. “They really call him that? It suits ‘im. Tell him I said hello!”

“Will do. Try not to break any hearts or eardrums out there.”

“Har! No promises!”

He waved goodbye, and then he was gone.

“He seems nice.” Annie remarked.

Bran shrugged. “He’d be better if he didn’t keep getting arrested. He’s been in and out of half the Reform Mines in Crack. Dinner rush is starting soon, so you two had better help clean up this mess.”

We stared out over the pile of dirty plates, dirty tankards, and food particles.

“Why do we need to clean up the mess?” I asked.

Annie and Bran were both stunned.

“Mister ‘keep everything clean’ is asking? Who are you and what’ve you done to Pete?” Annie choked.

I smiled wide. “Well, doesn’t it belong here? It is the mess hall. Nyuck.”

Annie’s foot found my shin at roughly the exact moment that Bran’s fist found the back of my helmet. I spun head over heels and crashed to the ground. I was hoisted up between the pair of them and a few seconds later found myself sailing through the window out into the alley.

Being tossed was actually kind of fun.

Hitting the ground? Not so much. We should really move Penelope’s haypile here.

At least I landed on my head.