For some random statistics about Altina, including a breakdown of how she got her golden bricks and her favorite chronicles from other gods, please check out Altina’s Wiki Page !
Note: The following story is long. I’ve been told it can be read in just over half an hour for fast readers, but if you’re a slow reader like myself, it takes just under an hour. If you don’t want to read something that long, don’t read this. If you don’t have the time to read it right now but still want to read it, I suggest putting it aside until you do have the time. If you happen to be reading this on a phone, I greatly suggest switching to a computer, where it is much easier to read. And if you’re still interested in reading, I did try to break it into mini-chapters to make it easier, but this is really just one long story. I hope you enjoy it!
One more quick note: At the time this was written, Epoch was the only one with a temple. Others do have temples now, but I’m not going to change the whole story just for that!
One night, at ’Molotov’s Cocktail Bar’ in Beerburgh…
Shouts went up all around as the waitress came over with the next round, carrying a couple trays of various beers filled to the brim along with a couple filled pitchers of beer to spare her some future trips. She gave everyone a big smile and got the table all riled up as she handed out the pitchers More cheers went up from the guys as she bent over to put the pitchers on the table. El-atel blatantly stared down her shirt, only stopping when Altina smacked him. Gold coins were tossed towards her from every direction around the table – the guys appreciating the show and the girls appreciating her putting up with the guys. If any of them were watching her face before she turned around, they would’ve seen the waitress roll her eyes while her smile faded to a worn-out grimace, sick of dealing with these types at the end of her long shift. Of course, no one around the table noticed as they had all returned to their drunken conversations and arguments, though El-atel did catch a glimpse of her hips swaying as she walked away. That is, until Altina smacked him again.
“So,” Sir Zutes shouted getting the attention of the table. He paused to take a long sip from his double pint glass full of the darkest beer on tap, some of it spilling out and dripping down his sizable red beard. Then he continued, “Who’s got a story?”
“I’ve got one,” announced Link102, sitting up a little straighter in his seat and taking a large gulp of beer before starting. The remaining side conversations at the table slowly faded as everyone waited to hear the drunken tale. “This happened very early in my travels to complete my goddess’ temple. I was having little luck finding golden bricks anywhere except from some random monsters, them often giving bricks to me posthumously, only to be collected when my Goddess resurrected me. Well, one night, after some heavy drinking in Trollbridge, I left the tavern completely sloshed.” He had to pause here as the rest of the table already started laughing. They quieted down and the story resumed.
“I’m not sure where I meant to go, but I ended up leaving town and was quickly attacked by a bipolar bear. I vaguely remember pulling my sword out and waving it in his general direction, too drunk to do anything of merit.” Again, the laughter grew, but this time Link102 just talked through it. “The bipolar bear easily avoided my sword and, after taking a few light swipes at me, charged at me full force. I remember the impact and nothing after that. The bipolar bear must have knocked me out and taken me for dead, planning on giving me one of those aforementioned posthumous golden bricks. When he placed it on my chest though, the sheer weight of it knocked the wind out of me, bringing me back to consciousness. And when I came back, my arms just naturally flailed upwards, one of which was still holding my sword. The next thing I see is the bipolar bear’s head falling onto me. It had still been bent over me when I came to and I accidentally decapitated the creature, which in turn gave me a free golden brick for my temple, the most drunken one I’ve ever earned!”
The table erupted in laughter. Those around Link102 gave him hearty pats of congratulations, while others threw out their congratulations and raised their drinks in his general direction.
“I wish I got golden bricks when I drunkenly fought monsters.” The comment, coming from Kibble moo, was meant to go unheard, but apparently she’d had a few too many and was talking louder than she intended. The whole table turned to her. When she didn’t continue, Sunpower egged her on from the other side of the table.
“Why is that? No luck with golden bricks?”
Kibble moo froze mid-sip, just catching on that her comment was louder than she meant it to be. Her eyes scanned the table over the bottom of the glass of beer which she was still holding to her mouth. She didn’t intend to tell this story, but there was no turning back now that everyone was waiting for it. Putting her beer down, she began, “No, that’s not it. Well, I mean, I could always use the extra bricks, but I have a much more ridiculous habit when I go out fighting monsters after some heavy drinking.”
She paused here. For the first time all night, the table had actually quieted down, waiting for Kibble moo’s story. Luckily, she had enough to drink so that she had no reservations telling it. “I don’t even know how it happened the first time. I got thoroughly smashed in Los Adminos and vaguely remember walking out the town gates. I woke up the next morning, curled up at the bottom of a tree, hugging a rocky raccoon. I jumped to my feet when I saw it and backed away. My sudden movement clearly woke it up. I watched as it yawned, looked at me, then walked over, rubbed up against me, and laid down again at my feet. I just shook my head at the weirdness of it and started walking back to town. It wasn’t until I got to town that I realized the stupid, ugly thing was following me. I tried to shoo it away, but the dumb little monster just didn’t understand it. I tried to ignore it and go about my business, but it kept following me. I thought about killing the little bugger, but just didn’t have it in me. I was forced to accept it as my pet.”
Iorwen jumped in here. “That doesn’t seem too bad.”
“Everyone knows rocky raccoons are the worst pets,” Kibble moo responded, “regularly eating anything special you get, they are ugly as the dickens, and smell worse than they look. But it was my first pet. And it wasn’t so bad.” She allowed a dramatic pause here. “The first time….”
Kibble moo took a long drink before continuing on. “After a few weeks, the thing died. I actually was a bit sad, but was excited to get a new pet. I got a wonderful, loyal sun dog. He lasted for awhile, but his death hit me hard. I took up some heavy drinking. One night, here in Beerburgh, I was feeling really depressed and hit the tavern hard. I woke up the next morning hugging a pillow in my bed in the room I’d taken for the night. However, when I started to get out of my bed, I realized it wasn’t a pillow – I’d somehow gotten another rocky raccoon and was hugging it under the sheets. Don’t know if I found it in a field and brought it back to the tavern or if I stole it from another hero, but the darned thing followed me around like the last one.”
Some laughs broke out around the table. Kibble moo took another gulp of her beer, then slammed it down on the table, getting back into her story, and more emotionally now. “That one followed me around longer than the first, but I was so annoyed by it I was happy when it died! I was free! I celebrated that night in San Satanos, drank ‘til I couldn’t remember, and – wouldn’t you know? – woke up curled up outside of the pub with yet another rocky raccoon!”
The table erupted in laughter this time.
“I hate these things! I don’t know what it is about them, but apparently I get drunk, find one of these filthy, ugly monsters, and sleep the night away holding it in my arms! I can’t get away from them! That last one is tied up out front right now! It’s the only way I could get away from it for a bit!”
Despite how worked up Kibble moo had gotten telling her story, everyone else seemed to love it. Laughter, voices of pity, and lots of cheers went around the table upon the end of her story. Slowly, Kibble moo calmed down and went back to drinking.
“I have no tales like that,” Sir Zutes announced. “But I generally avoid fighting when drunk too, and I’ll tell you why.”
The rest of the table turned to Sir Zutes, eagerly awaiting the next story.
“As many of you know, I try to spend most of my time back in Godville in the Skeatseria Lodge headquarters. Obviously, there are always drinks to have there, so most of the time I’m not sober. Who’d of thought, right? It’s only when I go out fighting that it finally passes through my system.” Sir Zutes took a drink, and leaned into the table ready to continue his story.
“This one time, after I’d been at the Lodge for days and was thus incoherently drunk, I walked outside to find a group of local heroes arguing with some Adamant Atheists, clearly upset about their blasphemous statements. It was clearly going to break into something worse, so I thought I would go out and try to smooth things over. Unfortunately, that was probably the wrong idea given my frame of mind. I ran into the middle of the two sides and shouted, as I remember…”
Sir Zutes paused to clear his throat to repeat his words from that day: “Lezz nah figh oer gotz an jus watz thway. No unn neetz tah dize hee. I nah, has baht I geez yall som deenks!”
Raucous laughter flowed over the table at this. The ones who had not heard Sir Zutes drunk before thought the voice was hilarious, but those that had in fact heard him like that knew that his imitation of himself was spot on and just laughed all the harder for it.
“Both sides froze and stopped bickering,” Sir Zutes continued on, not getting distracted by the table’s laughter. “As each side mumbled amongst themselves, I smiled, thinking I accomplished my goal of breaking them up. But just when I started to walk away, both sides started rushing forward. I tried to run out of the way, trying to avoid the oncoming brawl. It was while running out of the way that I realized that they weren’t running towards each other – they were both running towards me! They caught me and beat me to a pulp, knocking me out in the process. I woke up the next morning in a hospital bed in a lot of pain. The doctor asked me what I was thinking starting a fight with both the Adamant Atheists and the local heroes at the same time. I asked him what he was talking about, as I was trying to get them not to fight over the gods and walk away, that no one needed to die there and offered to give them all a drink. The doctor just burst out laughing, responding that he had talk to both sides and the heroes heard something about me claiming to want to fight their gods to the death while the Adamant Atheists heard me saying I would fight for the gods and would fight them to their death.”
Laughter erupted while Sir Zutes finished by saying, “Apparently, drunken slurring can be interpreted many different ways. But at least I did stop the brawl from occurring, even if it was by having them both team up to beat me!”
As the laughter and cheers to Sir Zutes faded down, Ahava spoke up. “Well, that drunken fight might have been pretty bad for you, but they can sometimes be pretty fun too! Isn’t that right, Altina?”
Altina, who had been in the middle of drinking her beer, had to spit out what she had in her mouth back into the cup as she laughed knowing what Ahava was talking about. The rest of the group, however, quieted down and looked back and forth between the two.
Finally, Notsosuperman spoke up. “Well, what’s the story?”
Ahava laughingly looked at Altina, “Do you want to tell them?”
Altina bowed her head and a hand in Ahava’s direction and responded, “By all means, you go ahead.”
Ahava rolled her eyes at her friend’s overly dramatic behavior, drank some beer, and began. “You see, that’s actually how Altina and I met.” The crowd eyed them both curiously. “One day, when we were both had been drinking a tad more than we needed, we ran into each other in the fields, about halfway between Los Demonos and Tradeburg. Being more than a bit tipsy, we were both avoiding fighting monsters the best we could, and bumped into each other as we both tried to dodge behind the same tree. At first we glared at each other, not sure what the other was doing there. Then we both suddenly just started laughing. From there, we got to talking and we both shared some drinks we had packed for the trip.”
At this point Ahava paused for a drink, then went on, “Well, already being drunk, and having more to drink, one thing just led to another. I don’t remember how it happened or what started it – correct me if I’m wrong, Altina?” Altina just shook her head showing she didn’t know either. Ahava continued, “Well, we just started beating each other. Like seriously, hardcore beating each other. Swords clashing on shields and armor. Screams of anger filling the air. Teeth bared and eyes glaring. It was epic. We were really trying to kill each other.” The table was silent, no one was even taking a drinking, wondering if the two girls had some serious animosity between them.
“And it went on for ages,” Ahava continued. “At first, it seemed like a normal skirmish, but as it continued, it was clear there was something more to it. Passing heroes were stopping to watch it, and the crowd just kept growing and growing as the battle went on. Eventually, weapons and shields were thrown down and it broke into a fist fight. That led to us rolling around on the ground and hitting each other. Pieces of our armor were coming off all over the place, and the now sizable crowd wasn’t just cheering, we were getting wolf whistles too! We were so worn out towards the end that the sheer effort of trying to hit the other was hurting ourselves more than the other. At the point of complete exhaustion, we both collapsed on the ground, looking up at the sky. There were still some cheers and wolf whistles from the gathered crowd, but many were now booing that we had stopped. In the mean time, Altina and myself had sobered up. We looked at each other – armor missing, clothes torn, bodies bruised and beaten, hair destroyed and all over the place – and we just laughed. Which hurt. A lot. But we did it anyhow. As we got up, cheers from the crowd erupted and both of us finally looked around at it, taking in how huge the crowd truly was! Nearly a hundred people must have gathered around, many sitting and drinking while they watched us. With no other option, I made a bowing motion with my hand towards Altina. She got the idea, and we took a bow to the crowd in every direction. Cheers, clanking drinks, and more wolf whistles went up all around. Altina and I laughed over it, gathered our stuff, and made our way towards Tradeburg. We’ve been friends ever since!”
The table had been mostly silent throughout the story, and remained that way after its telling. That is, until El-atel gave out an awkwardly drunken wolf whistle in Ahava and Altina’s general directions. That brought out hearty laughter from the group, leading to other wolf whistles, cheers to Ahava and Altina, and several clanking drinks as they were toasted. The whole effect, unintentionally as it was, made the table seem like they were imitating the crowd at Ahava and Altina’s fight that day.
“Man, I wish I’d seen that!” The exclamation came from a very drunken El-atel who, rather than beer, was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.
“We all know you would have wanted to,” He r cules laughed back, everyone knowing El-atel’s tendencies when drunk. El-atel just smiled back proudly and drunkenly. After a brief pause for more drinking and laughing, He r cules turned back to El-atel and asked, “How about you share a story now?”
El-atel took another swig from his bottle, and responded clearly ready to put on a show, “Oh, you want one of my stories, eh?” The table played along, cheering and encouraging him to share a story. “Alrighty then – you asked for it!” And with that, he pushed some drinks aside and climbed onto the table. He then began (to the tune of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air):
Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute just sit right thurr
I’ll tell you how I became the hero of a town called Beerburgh
At this point some started clapping along to the beat while others were hitting their beer glasses against the table in tune instead. Encouraged, El-atel became louder and more dramatic:
In west Los Adminos, born and raised
In a tavern, that’s where I spent most of my days
Chilling out, drinking, and acting all cool
And shooting some whiskey straight from the bar stool
When a couple of monsters, they were up to no good
Started making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my friends got burned
And said, “We’re moving our drinks to a town called Beerburgh!”
I whistled for a ride and when it came near
I stocked the trojan horse with plenty of beer
If anything, I could say this ride was the worst
But I thought, ’Man forget it, yo homes, to Beerburgh!”
The clapping here expanded to other tables as most of the tavern had stopped talking and was watching El-atel’s performance. The sound of glasses bashing against the tables throughout the bar was borderline deafening as he even more loudly continued:
I pulled up to the town about seven or eight
And I yelled to my ride, ‘yo homes, smell ya later’
I looked at the kingdom where my name would be heard
Found the nearest bar stool, sat on my new throne in Beerburgh!
As he finished, cheers went up throughout the tavern. Beer glasses were raised and toasts were made, celebrating the performance. El-atel soaked in the attention and gave a few gracious bows in all directions. That is, until he faced the bar and saw the glare of disapproval on the waitress’s face. In his race to get off the table, he stumbled. Luckily, Iorwen caught him, preventing him from crashing head first into the ground.
“Classy,” Iorwen laughingly commented.
El-atel, not liking the tone, slurred drunkenly back, “Hey, you aren’t always classy yourself!”
Iorwen, going on the defensive, immediately responded, “Like when?”
“How about that time you bought the bulletproof monk?”
Iorwen’s face went red. “Okay, we don’t need to talk about that…”
But it was too late. The rest of the table had overheard it all and were begging to hear the story, knowing from the color of Iorwen’s face that it was gonna be good. It was Kibble moo who finally got him talking, saying, “Come on, I told you about my weird rocky raccoon issues. You gotta dish on your bulletproof monk!”
Iorwen let out a loud grunt of defeat. “Fine. But let me say I warned you. If you are disturbed at the end, it’s your own fault!” Iorwen paused for a hefty swig of her beer, then began.
“Fairly early in my travels as a hero, I came across a man – and a very attractive man at that – in Tradeburg who was selling his services as a shield. He was a very skilled martial artist who promised to be able to deflect any hit that would come in my direction. The things he could do with his body were, just amazing. This sounded like a very useful skill, so I bought him-,” Iorwen suddenly coughed here and corrected herself, “I mean, bought his services.” Weird glances went around the table at this slip of the tongue. Eager to get past it, Iorwen continued on.
“He did in fact turn out to be incredibly skilled, protecting me regularly against monsters, and even in a skirmish I got into. And he never said a word. And the stuff he did was simply amazing to watch. He just kept doing more and more ridiculous things! But I….” Iorwen paused to take a hearty swig of beer. “I became slightly obsessed with the range of things he could do. I would ask him to do random unnecessary things, like climb to the top of a tree to get me eggs from a bird’s nest for a meal, just because he could. And he would because I bought him, errrr, his services. And he would never complain. He obviously wasn’t a fan of my strange requests, but I was having too much fun with him, so I kept going farther. And since I kept paying him, he kept doing what I asked. I even started buying random equipment and insisted he wear it, like a metal bikini and a beer helmet. And he would still fully complete his job without a word while wearing it all. Then….”
Iorwen faded out. She hung her head low and tipped back her beer, clearly not wanting to continue – and probably wouldn’t have if she had been a little more sober.
“Then what?” Kibble Moo asked.
Iorwen looked at her, then at the rest of the table, all of whom were staring at her. Defeated, she hung her head lower and continued on, “Then one night we drank together. We shared several bottles of wine. After the first few, I showed him the new piece of equipment I bought for him: pink fuzzy handcuffs. He gave me a very questioning look, but I pulled out some gold coins, paid him extra, and made him wear them, locking his arms behind his back. We drunkenly stumbled out to the fields and the bulletproof monk fought several monsters while wearing the pink fuzzy handcuffs which kept his hands locked behind his back, having no trouble at all despite that fact. We returned to town, finished the wine, and stayed the night at a tavern. I had big plans for him – I mean, for how he could help me. Those pink fuzzy handcuffs were just the start! I was going to have his gorgeous body, uhhh, I mean, great skills, or, uhhhh, his helpful services. Crap, now none of these sound right!"
The crowd was laughing all around and make side comments about Iorwen’s obvious desire for the man. She quickly caught, but was drunk enough that it didn’t phase her much. She continued on.
“At some point, I passed out. Upon waking up the next day, he was gone. Forever. When I got breakfast that morning, I heard stories of a monk whose arms were stuck behind his back in pink fuzzy handcuffs running and dancing down the streets screaming something about being free and being away from ‘her.’ That was the last I ever heard of him.”
Iorwen was a fairly dark purple by this point. But the table loved it. They were yelling and cheering and slapping the table they thought it was so funny. Those around her slapped her on the back while others toasted her sheer fortitude in buying and messing with the man, though she may have seen it a little differently. Drinks were spilled all over the place in the ruckus.
Laughing himself, Notsosuperman announced, “Man, that’s even worse than the stuff my guild mates made me do!”
Link102, not missing a beat, jumped in and asked, “What did your guild mates make you do?”
The table calmed down somewhat as a new story began, though it was still quite rowdy. Notsosuperman began, “First, you need to understand I grew up very overprotected in Anville, and was thus very ignorant in the ways of the world. I had never even heard of beer until my goddess, Supersneaky, came down to send me on a quest to build her temple. She gave me many instructions, but the last one was to stay away from beer. Then she left. Not knowing what it was, I returned to my guild mates at the Ankh-Morpork City Watch and asked them about it. They promised to introduce me to it, but said it was not something I could learn, but something I had to experience.” Several people around the table clanked their drinks with their neighbor’s, cheering that statement and showing big smiles, anticipating where this was going.
“Well,” Notsosuperman continued, “that night, they introduced me to a funnel. They told me if I wanted to know beer, I had to drink as much as I can. Honestly, that did not help. I do not remember fifteen minutes later. When I woke up in the middle of our guild hall floor the next morning, some guild mates were already waiting for me with more beer. I was totally out of it and said I didn’t feel too good, but they told me to drink some more that morning, that it would help me feel better. I told them I didn’t remember the night before, but they said not too worry about it, and invited me to get breakfast with them in the guild dining hall. I started drinking a beer and followed them. When I walked in, everyone there stood and applauded me, though I didn’t know why at the time. I was so out of it though I practically ignored it. Many patted me on the back as I stumbled towards the food, and several girls winked at me and asked if I wanted to hang out later. I thought this was all a little strange, but I was starving, so I ignored it. I eventually got some food and sat down. I took one bite though, and got sick. I tried to hold it in and run to the bathroom, but I didn’t make it, and was sick all over the guild floor. I still ran to the bathroom, and was even more sick in there. When I finally thought I was better, I stood up and looked in the mirror. I vaguely remember seeing myself in a fancy pink dress and my face made up like a girl. Then I passed out again. I woke up in a hospital bed. I was in and out of consciousness for the next two days, and they kept me in the hospital another two days after that just to be safe. But my guild mates were regularly in and out, bringing me gifts and good food. And while I may not know what happened that night, it still did sprout my undying love for beer!”
The crowd around the table was collapsing on top of themselves they were laughing so hard. They had been drinking heavily throughout the story and could only toast and drink more to the ending of it, everyone thoroughly enjoying it and seemingly understanding it better than Notsosuperman did himself. But he laughed and drank right along with them.
LisaAlexandra was the one that brought the table back to focus with her comment to Notsosuperman, “Well, it doesn’t seem nice, whatever happened to you that night, but at least your friends seemed to take care of you afterward.”
Altina jokingly jabbed back at her, “Well, we can’t all be perfect demigoddesses like yourself!”
Lisa Alexandra just rolled her eyes, but most the rest of the table just looked at either Altina or LisaAlexandra, clearly not understanding the apparent joke. Geoff Burton, however, let a smile form at the corner of his mouth, being the only other person at the table that understood.
“Uhhhhh, I don’t get it,” a very drunken El-atel slurred out eventually.
Altina laughed. “You’re so drunk you wouldn’t get it even if you understood!”
He r cules jumped in responding, “Well, I’m not that drunk, and I don’t get it either.”
Altina laughed again. “Okay, okay! Would you like to explain LisaAlexandra?”
“Sure,” she responded, letting out a sigh. “While I am like the rest of you, in that I am another heroine out to complete a temple in my goddess’s name, I’m not quite – well – like the rest of you.” Besides Altina and Geoff, the rest of the table was staring at her in confusion. “You see, I’m kinda,” she paused a bit before changing tact, “well, my mother is the goddess whom I fight for and who supports me.”
The looks of confusion around the table either deepened or switched to blunt skepticism.
“Yeah, right,” Kibble moo responded. “Then why aren’t you with the rest of the gods and goddesses?”
“I actually was raised up there in secret until I was found out as an adolescent. Then, because my father was a mortal, they sent me down here” LisaAlexandra responded simply. “Hence Altina’s comment that I am a demigoddess – as I am half mortal, half goddess.”
“Then who is your father?” Link 102 asked.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. That is the ulterior goal to my travels around Godville. He is down here somewhere. I am constantly searching for him in my travels. Maybe one day I will find him.”
“No way!” exclaimed a drunken but thoroughly interested El-atel.
In response, LisaAlexandra said nothing. Instead she merely smiled as her cape slowly rose behind her and the ends of her beautiful red wings extended slightly out the side.
“Whoa,” El-atel sighed out, leaping from his seat and leaning against the wall LisaAlexandra was sitting in front of to see where the wings connected to her under her cape. He poked where they connected to her back. “They’re real!” As LisaAlexandra didn’t seem offended, the others around the table soon got up and walked over to look at the wings themselves. That is, all except for Altina and Geoff who had both seen them before. The last two people had to pull El-atel away and back to his seat as he was so entranced by the wings he didn’t want to return. When he finally got to his seat, he announced, “That’s so cool! Why do you hide those? Why not have them out all the time?”
LisaAlexandra laughed. “Not everyone is as accepting as all of you are! Some people don’t like them, don’t trust me because of them, or even attack me because of them. However,” LisaAlexandra paused to give a sly smile, “a bonus of my background is that I can drink all of you under the table. Hence me drinking more than anyone else here and still being the most sober.”
“Well,” Ahava asked curiously, “what happens when you do get drunk?”
LisaAlexandra laughed more heartily than she had all evening. “I can get just as bad as everyone else if I drink enough! One night at Herolympus, I got the most drunk I’d ever been, left the tavern and barely remember spreading my wings and taking flight. I woke up the next morning on the roof of a building on the other side of town. When I looked around, I saw shutters ripped off windows, some windows smashed, and ceiling tiles missing from buildings all around me. Clearly, I couldn’t fly straight that night. Needless to say, I left quickly before anyone noticed the damage or the cause!”
Altina and Geoff laughed deeply, enjoying the story. The rest of the table laughed a little more nervously, not sure how to react to the story. That in turn, caused LisaAlexandra to laugh.
After feeling they had laughed enough, LisaAlexandra decided to change the topic. She turned to her guild mate and asked, “Geoff, do you have a story for us?”
“Nah, sorry,” Geoff Burton responded, calmly and slowly drinking the newest beer at the tavern out of his custom made pint glass featuring a medallion with an inscription reading ‘Geoff Burton: Temple Owner’. While none of the rest of the group would say it, they were all in awe of his completed temple.
“Come on,” Altina responded, “you’ve gotta have some stories over your trials to complete your temple!”
“Your analysis of gold coins, bricks, and beers is famous and very well-known now,” LisaAlexandra added. “How about you tell them about the new room you are contemplating building onto your temple?”
“Ahhhhh,” Geoff responded, audibly perking up while sitting a bit more forward on his chair, as the topic sparked his interest. The rest of the table responded in kind, curious to see what the most experienced member at the table had to say. “Well, you see, I wanted a room whose feel and atmosphere would change throughout the day. A room where I could sit and pass the day with a beer contemplating what I would like to do next now that my temple is complete. And that’s when it hit me – beer!
“I’m going to create a room out of pint glasses. Each row of pint glasses would have a thin sheet of glass on top of it, strong enough to hold the rows above it, thus sealing each glass. There would also be a sheet of glass pressed against each side, locking the glasses in place and making sure they are not touched. The ceiling will be made of beer glasses as well, with the same pint glasses placed in the same manner as the walls, but they would be placed on top of a large plate of glass and covered by another large plate of glass. This would obviously need to be held up by several columns in the room. The columns would be made up of rows of four pint glasses forming a square per row, equally as high as the walls.
“Now, here’s the key part: All the glasses will be filled with beer – but not the same beer. Starting at the bottom of the east wall, the glasses would be filled with incredibly light beers, getting a tiny shade darker in each row going up the wall. Across the ceiling, the glasses would be more of your normal beers, but still increasingly slightly in shade from east to west. Finally on the west wall would be your darker beers, increasing in shade from top to bottom. Now, you might be wondering why I would arrange the beers in such an order. There is a very distinctive reason: As the sun rises in the east, shining through the light beer, the inside of the room will have a very spring-like feel. As the sun rose to mid-day, it would become a more direct light giving a summer feel. And of course, as the sun set in the west and shone through the dark beers, you would get a more fall-like feel. Thus creating a room where you could get the atmosphere of three seasons over the course of a day.”
As Geoff finished talking, the rest of the table was silent. They were either smiling at the brilliance of the idea, as Link102 was, or lost in the explanation of it, as El-atel was.
Sir Zutes was the one that finally responded, “That is an excellent idea!”
The comment snapped everyone out of their funk and inspired a round of applause to the idea. Altina raised her glass to Geoff and others followed. Geoff gave a slight nod and drank his beer, which everyone else took as a signal to drink their own. Conversations and laughter quickly sprouted up all over the table, some focusing on the beer room, others about nothing in particular.
“How about you, Sunpower?” Iorwen asked, gaining the attention of the table. “How about you share one of your stories?”
Sunpower thought for a second and responded, “I don’t really have a story that competes with any of those shared tonight. I just can’t think of anything worth sharing here.”
“I’m sure the rest of us here can!” The exclamation from Altina drew cheers and laughter from much of the rest of the table. Sunpower, though, seemed genuinely confused.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“How about those mornings you wake up and have randomly joined another guild?” Altina asked in response, eliciting laughter from the other Skeasteria Lodge members.
“Oh,” Sunpower said with a pause. “Those.”
Those not a part of the Skeatseria Lodge were confused. Notsosuperman spoke up. “What’s that all about, Sunpower?”
The other Skeatseria Lodge members laughed and leaned back, while the rest seemed curious to hear the story. Sunpower seemed to be waiting for someone else to answer the question. When he realized everyone was waiting for him to speak up, he finally did so.
“Alright, well, you see, some nights I drink. A lot. And I guess I’m a social drunk. I start drinking in our Lodge. Then I go out and I talk to other people. And I drink more. I’m not really sure what happens from there, but twice now, I’ve woken up with my own room in a different guild hall. Some time during the night before, I had officially joined their guild, filling out all the paperwork and giving up my previous membership in the Skeatseria Lodge. Obviously, the next morning, I always run back to Skeatseria and rejoin them, though of course I always lose my rank. Hopefully I’ll stop doing that sometime – it would be nice to become something more than a ‘master’ in the guild I helped create!”
It may have been short, but by the end of the story, the whole table was cracking up. Sunpower even joined in laughing at himself. Sir Zutes interrupted the laughter by raising his beer and shouting, “Drink to Skeatseria Lodge!” Everyone raised their glasses – even those not in Skeatseria – and took a drink to the Lodge.
After the toast, He r cules proudly stated, “You know, I’ve been working hard to promote our fledgling guild in every town I visit.”
This brought out a bunch of raucous laughter from the group.
“Why is that funny?”
Altina jumped in, “Oh, we’ve all heard about you promoting our guild…”
“Like the time in Godville,” El-atel jumped in, barely able to talk he was laughing so hard, “when you took to the main square to spread the word about us and thunder boomed, amplifying your voice a hundred fold, so everyone could hear your message – which was just a bunch of drunken slurring! People definitely remember that, and will for a long time!”
The laughter got even louder as He r cules said, “But…”
And he was cut off by Iorwen. “Or the time you found a golden calf near Tradeburg, and instead of declaring it a sacred symbol, you jumped on its back and drunkenly rode it up and down the streets of Tradeburg rodeo style! That was a memorable one!”
“That was just…”
But He r cules was cut off again, this time by Link102. “What about the time a luminous halo appeared above your head here in Beerburgh. You ran into the city square, a beer in each hand, and instead of preaching about the Skeatseria Lodge, you demonstrated your admittedly impressive chugging abilities while all eyes were on you, downing two pints in mere seconds, then letting out a belch that shall live on in legend!”
The laughter from the table had nearly drowned out everything else in the tavern. He r cules was getting a bit upset at the mockery. “Hey, I tried! We’re a guild about drinking! It’s not my fault I happen to be drunk when these opportunities to promote the guild present themselves!”
Altina, sensing He r cules’s budding anger, tried to calm the storm. “You know what, you truly are doing a phenomenal job. It’s the sheer ridiculousness of those stories that will make people remember our guild. We couldn’t ask for a better way to promote the guild!”
“Here, here!” came the chant from around the table, drinks being raised. Altina and He r cules clinked theirs and drank up as the table faded back into side conversations, heavy drinking, and drunken laughter.
It was Geoff Burton who broke it up again. “Well, Altina, I guess you are the last one to share. What fine story have you got for us?”
Agreements came from all around the table, followed of course by more drinking. The crowd slowly began chanting Altina’s name awaiting her story.
“Okay, okay, okay! I got one, calm it on down there.” As everyone stopped the chanting, Altina prepared her story. “Alright, so my story takes place here in Beerburgh. This is from when I was just a budding heroine, fresh from the first visit from my Lord, TheGourdGod. After a rough morning of fighting, I took a midday break at this very pub. A drinking break of course. I had a drink or eight and then moved on. Walking down the streets outside, I saw a child’s play sword just lying in the street, very roughly carved out of wood and painted bright orange and gray. Clearly a fake sword. No one was around to claim it, so I picked it up, and jokingly waved it around in the air.
“Around that time, a guy shouting to someone at the other end of the street backed into me. The guy, a scruffy fellow appearing in prime fighting age, turned around and saw me, a young heroine with the most blatantly fake-looking sword imaginable. And yet he had the most terrified look on his face that I had ever seen. Immediately, a conniving grin grew across my face and, after a short but dramatic pause, I ran at the fellow, who was clearly much tougher than me, waving around the fake sword and screaming.
“The guy seemed to grow even more terrified and took off like a rabbit! He looked like death was nipping at his heels and ran faster than I possibly could down a couple streets. The fact that I was also laughing hysterically didn’t help me run any faster. He took a turn at some point and I quickly lost him. Finding the whole situation absurd, I turned around and laughed all the way back to this pub I had come from. I put the fake wooden sword in my supply bag and got some more drinks.
“About half an hour later, a city guard comes bursting into the pub. Curious, I turned and watched as the guard looked around the bar. He stood at the entrance for a bit, then walked right up to me. Completely intimidated, I said nothing.
“’You Altina?’ he asked.
“’Yes sir,’ I responded blankly. And before I had even finished the ‘sir,’ the guard had twisted me around and had me shoved over the bar, his sword pressed against my back, and had me assuming the position while he frisked me.
“’What’s this I hear about you pulling swords on people?’ he demanded while frisking me.
“Completely intimidated and scared, I simply responded, ‘There is a wooden play sword in my bag.’
“The guard ignored my response, telling me to stay in my position while he put his sword away and glared around the room. Turning back, he repeated his prior question: ’What’s this I hear about you pulling swords on people?’
“Still scared out of my mind, I again responded, ‘There is a wooden play sword in my bag.’
“This time the guard heard and processed the response, though clearly did not understand it. After a second, he confusedly responded, ‘What?’
“Not meaning to be obnoxious, just not knowing what else to say, I responded for the third time: ‘There is a wooden play sword in my bag.’
“This time the city guard fully processed it. He glared at me and told me not to move, then went to check my supply bag. I heard him dump it on an open table, but couldn’t see it as he was behind me. I waited nervously for several minutes for the guard to return. When he did, he walked up beside me, swinging the bright orange and gray wooden sword in his hand. He told me to turn around and lean against the bar. I did. Still terrified of what was going to happen.
“’Now I know this isn’t a real sword,’ he began, ‘and most people know this isn’t a real sword, but apparently some people don’t.’ There was a dramatic pause here as he stopped swinging the sword. He placed it gently on the bar. ’I’m gonna have to search the rest of this place.’
“’Okay,’ I happily agreed, assuming he was looking for something that at least looked like a real sword, but knowing I had nothing to hide. I stayed where I was – as did everyone else in the bar who had been watching the whole show – while the guard walked around and searched for places I could have hidden a real sword.
“After satisfying his curiosity through the search, he came back up to me. ‘Give me your hero license.’ I promptly took it out and gave it to him. ‘Stay here.’ And with that he walked to just outside the bar, where he was still able to see me through a window.
“Some of the other patrons of the bar had started talking and laughing again, finding the situation hilarious. Also finding the situation hilarious but scared to laugh, I found myself speaking aloud, ’I’m not going to start laughing.’
“’Shut your mouth!’ the bartender abruptly whispered angrily at me, also trying to remain professional and not laugh. I quickly did as I was told.
“So I waited quietly at the bar while the guard figured out what to do with me out front. While he was out there, four more city guards came by who had been sent around the city to hunt me down, the crazy guy who chased people with swords. They saw me through the window as they approached, eying me anxiously, wondering what was going on. They talked to the first guard for a few minutes, then looked back at me and started laughing hysterically, which made it even harder for me not to laugh. The new guards left shortly after that, heads thrown back or bodies bent over they were laughing so hard.
“Several minutes later, the guard finally came back in. He handed me my hero licenses and said, ‘You are too old for this. You know better. Now leave the play sword at the bar so you’re not tempted to sword fight anymore and get out of here.’
“And with that he turned around and left the bar. And I finally was able to let go and laugh, along with the rest of the bar. I was treated to free drinks for the rest of the night as thanks for the entertainment I provided everybody.”
The story over, the whole table was dying laughing.
Kibble moo was the first to respond. “That’s a great story, but there is absolutely no way that’s true!”
“You don’t believe it?” Altina asked. Kibble moo shook her head, along with most of the rest of the table. “Okay then, follow me.”
Altina stood up, waving everyone to follow her. She led them over to the far corner next to the bar. On a wall they could not have seen from their table was a large wooden plaque with a now-faded orange and gray wooden play sword hung across it. Beneath the swords there was an inscription: “For Altina – a thanks for the best laugh ever had at this bar!”
Everyone took turns reading it, and by the time they were done, everyone was cracking up harder than they had been all night. They went back to the table, drank a little more, and laughed a lot more.
As it grew later, people started talking of passing out for the night. Before anyone could go though, Iorwen lifted her beer in the air as she started the official Skeatseria Lodge song, which she wrote and proudly sang whenever the opportunity arose (to the tune of I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles):
We’re forever drinking beer
To wash away our woes
The rest of the Skeatseria Lodge members had joined in by this point, swinging their beers back and forth in the air with each line of the song.
I broke brick eight
To lose is my fate
And now I cannot find a date
All the remaining members of the table, even not being Skeatseria Lodge members, joined in for the rest.
Beer is the cause and solution
To all of life’s problems
We’re forever drinking beer
To wash away our woes
And with the second chant of ‘Skeatseria,’ people started getting up and saying their goodbyes. El-atel was the first to get up, but fell flat on his face, not responding to any comments or shoves from anyone. Kibble Moo, Notsosuperman, and Ahava headed out, going their separate ways to their local guild headquarters. Geoff Burton and Lisa Alexandra simply moved to another table at the bar, where several Guild Name members had just come in and started drinking. Altina, Iorwen, Sunpower, and Sir Zutes helped get El-atel up. Sunpower and Sir Zutes then carried him off towards the nearest hospital while Altina and Iorwen headed to their respective rooms at the Skeatseria Lodge.
The next morning, Altina wrote in her diary:
08:06: Had some fun at “Molotov’s Cocktail Bar.” Spent 4325 coins.
Moral of the story: Altina sucks at summarizing.
If you’ve made it this far, congrats and thanks for reading my chronicles! Please take a minute to rate them below. If you really liked them, please help spread them around by recommending that your friends read them. If you really, really liked them, then by all means send me an invite and let me know! I love hearing from both the newer gods and goddesses here in Godville and the most experienced ones out there. And feel free to check out any of the links to other heroes and heroines in this story – most of them have great chronicles too!
To eliminate any confusion – as I’ve been asked this several times now – I did write all these stories. They were not written by the gods they feature, though I did check to make sure it was okay with each of them that I used them. I just thought it was more fun to use other people’s heroes and heroines than make up some of my own.
And for the record, OhMG wrote a Godville-themed Fresh Prince rap in her chronicles well before I did – and hers is much better in my humble opinion. However, that song has been my go-to parody rap throughout my life, so I went with it anyhow, despite it being done before and mine not being quite as good.