Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 594

Suzette was used to turning heads when she entered a room. This time was no exception, but for a different reason, as several dozen barbarian warriors saw the petite barmaid pulling a wagon load of ale barrels into the great hall. Heavy barrels of ale weren't something that had been packed by the fleeing tribesmen, and the few barrels on the supply wagons that fled north with what was left of the army were nearly empty. The epic night of drinking with Jarl Benjamin had emptied most of the remaining barrels, and what was left was being drank by the men in the room. Why they weren't out working with the others was obvious from the bloody bandages and splinted limbs. Ben had healed the worst of the wounded, making sure they would live, but his mana could only go so far, and many of the warriors waved him off, not accepting healing when their were women and children in need.Suzette was looking around the room for an empty spot to unload the wagon and set up her barrels while nearly everyone in the room was looking at Suzette, (or maybe the barrels.) The exception was a large, heavy-set woman with curly brown hair and hands calloused from a lifetime of baking and running her steading. She strode forward and greeted the newcomer, "Looks like you have a heavy load there. Need help putting it somewhere and fending off this bunch of drunkards? I'm Luthren, daughter of Yuri Nose Slicer. Tell me what I can help with.""I'd appreciate that. I'm Suzette, I run a tavern in Sedgewick and brew my beer. Just a simple barmaid. But I've got a bit more than just beer in this load. Some of the barrels are full of healing potions."That got a raised eyebrow from Luthren. "Barrels of potions? Your shamans have been busy this past few years, preparing for war. Lets use this spot over here. I've got two good tables that the Jarl's like to sit at, but if you have healing, they can find a log to sit on." Within a few minutes, the two women had moved aside the men sitting at the tables, and set up an area if the large hall as a bar. Suzette had brought along a hundred mugs from her bar, about the number that each week went missing, were broken, or bought as souvenirs by players. They were heavy pewter with wooden handles, produced by the local silversmith, Lara, and her apprentices in the hours after their regular shift. And while she liked her mugs large, they were only half the size of those the warriors here preferred. She'd have to talk to Lara about doing a batch of larger tankards for larger appetites.Suzette tapped the first 'potion barrel', pouring out a heavy brown ale with a foamy head. "This is healing beer. Each tankard is equal to a standard healing potion. Very popular with groups that return from the dungeons beneath Gadobhra and after a battle. I've been shipping a dozen barrels a week of this to the Empire's army in the southlands where they are fighting lizardmen and orcs."Luthren started filling mugs. "And probably to the armies fighting against Winter, though you are polite enough not to say so. I hold no ill will over your support for your people. Warriors fight, and those of us minding the children and steadings feed them, wipe their noses and stitch their wounds. Two of my daughters are married. One is happy to have her man back even missing a few fingers. The other has not returned. And now my youngest daughter has braided her hair and is practicing with her Grandfather's axe." She paused, and looked over to where a girl of less than sixteen sat listening to the war stories of the wounded men, a heavy axe on her back. "Each of us makes choices. Let's start feeding this lot your potions and see how potent of a brewer you are."With a half dozen mugs in each hand, they headed for the tables. Luthren said loudly, "Drink up boys. We've got beer from Sedgewick here, made by this lass."One old man with a broken leg scowled at his nearly empty mug, and was equally unhappy with the thought of different beer. "Warmlander beer? Probable not made with glacier water and it will take a dozen to make me feel a thing."Luthren stepped up to him, took the mostly empty tankard from his hands and handed him one of suzette's beer mugs. "That wasn't a request, Ostgerd. Drink it down and smile."Faced with a women with a reputation for staring down Jarl's, Ostgerd took the mug, sniffed it, sneered, and tossed it down his throat in one long drink. He started to snarl something, then licked the foam from his lips, "That's not half bad. Thick enough that I almost had to chew it."Another man laughed, "Stick with this beer, then, since you only have six teeth left." He was feeling better himself, and stretching out an arm that hadn't worked right since the last battle.Luthren handed Ostgerd another beer, "How's your leg feeling?"He paused, the beer almost to his lips and thought about it. "Don't hurt as much as it did." He looked around at the other wounded men, all feeling better and grabbing for tankards as fast as Suzette could fill them. "Beer that heals wounds? What sort of Southern sorcery is this?" Despite his suspicions, he began drinking the second beer.Luthren looked at the stack of barrels behind the makeshift bar. "I'd say the kind. Says she brews it herself, so you better be polite for a change."Ostgerd nodded his head, "Aye, guess I should. I swear something in my knee popped back into place."Luthren returned to the bar and helped Suzette fill mugs. After a stern look from her, her daughter came to help. After a half hour of drinking, some of the men declared they were going outside to work. Suzette yelled at the group of six, "If your healed up, bring up your mugs and I'll send you off with a tankard of Bludgeon Double Dark. They'll be more with dinner."More beer was always good, and they lined up for refills. One man took a long sip, then stared at the tankard, "This is beer? It kicks like a heavy mead. It's good I'm just having one, or I'd be napping in the sun." As they left, more of the men came up for refills of Healing Beer or to claim a tankard of Double Dark. Soon, only the five most severely wounded were left, all suffering from heavy wounds to the body that they hadn't expected to get better. They'd joked about needing to drink the beer slowly so it didn't leak out from their wounds and get the floor sticky. Suzette put a crate of regular healing potions on the counter. "Give these to whoever needs them, please. And I have more. Ben mentioned that a lot of the people who fled had children who had been injured and he'd healed the worst of them."Luthren shook her head in wonder, "Jarl Benjamin saved so many of them from death and disfigurement. Two of the little ones even regained lost limbs. His healing is strong and touched by a god. I could feel it."Suzette looked at her for a moment. "Not just a simple wife, cooking for her family, are you?""No, I'm not. I have to be many things. I can't call great spirits, but I've managed to get a few small ones to help out and I can feel when something more powerful is at work. The north is full of spirits, great and small, and it's not only the shaman's that can sense them. But one has to respect the spirits, and not upset them. I would not want to get whatever spirit Jarl Benjamin is linked to upset with me. I saw him heal, but that fire can burn as well. Redhoof was lucky that he only lost that stupid Murder Deer of his. Meanest spirit I've run into. But I'd best get these potions handed out. I thank you again."Suzette walked over to the seriously injured men and women, he staff in her hands.. "I have healing magic that will help your recover faster. The beer helps, but pure magic will go further and prevent infections and complications."They all nodded. "I wasn't really expecting to recover, but give it a shot lass. The beer has taken the pain and I'm feeling hopeful I'll be able to fight on the field and die with glory."Suzette rolled her eyes, "Or fight gloriously, kill giants, and celebrate afterwards. I prefer that ending. Now, don't move, and I'll see what I can do." One hand on her staff, one hand on the wound in the man's belly, she looked upward, mumbling a prayer or incantation. Luthren paused at the door, seeing something the men didn't. The barmaid was dressed in spectral robes and her staff was topped by a caudices, the symbol of a caduceus. The little Death Sprites that had been hovering over the warrior became angry as his wound began to heal, but they turned and fled when a flock of Wind Sprites raced through the doorway to do battle with them. She could just barely see the outline of an armored man bearing a similar staff in one hand and a shield in the other. She swore he winked at her before fading away.Luthren watched for a bit longer, then walked away, "Just a simple barmaid, but a hidden priestess of one of the old gods. Cragstone may have better allies than he realizes."