Crua. "Ghost blood or War/ Fighter's Ghost"
The games are quiet. Laughing. The rattle of dice. The roar of a win or the grumbling of a loss. A round of drinks in victory. A set of drinks to drown losses. Olgarkin tended the bar, watched the room and glanced periodically at the hawk headed demon that was his bouncer and guard. It stands like a statue in the rafter corner, folded feathered wings of black and gold behind it, arms crossed with obsidian claws of it’s paws showing on the tawny arms. The beams gripped by the taloned feet that end in yellow scaled legs. Olgarkin is a large bear of a man, balding with a fringe of grey hair and a thick grey moustache and a beard that reaches down to his chest. Thick arms exit his padded leather vest, covered in tattoos of ships, and mermaids and other creatures and casks, each dominated by a large scorpion. He pulls the woven grass steam tray from the water pot, dumps it on a plate and pours more dumplings from a bag and replaces the steamer.
Good house tonight, humans, a few goblins, a pair of maned feline Bahku and a group of three Ghenid, big dog like creatures with large perky round tipped ears, manes braided or dyed, and coats with spots or stripes and ranging from blonde, to brown with green, and red-brown. His younger cousin, a woman named Glynni, is pouring ale or wine. Carrying out trays of the dumplings Olgarkin is steaming behind the bar. She has taken a pitcher of the nasty Ghenid drink, Crua, to their table - greasy, salty, spiced with some aromatic herbs or berries, half rotted meat and curled milk alcohol with a burn to make you gasp before vomiting the horrid stuff back up and laying sick for hours. Ghenid, Bahku and Goblins seem to like it and suffer none the worse than drinking beer or ale. Toxic to humans, elves and dwarfs. Vorrik the demon doesn’t mind it either, but prefers fresh meat and ritual offerings of blood or small animals. Plus the occasional accident. Olgarkin does enough business with Bahku and Goblins, as well as the occasional Ghenid or even Kobold that he keeps some Crua in the cellar.
A new guest enters - nearly 7 foot, dark, nearly black muzzle, wide and blocky, leathery wide nose, squared cheekbones and determined eyes set under deep brows. Narrow stripes on dark gold-brown, the red green flecked eyes of Ghenid. Her short mane is black, showing purple dye at the tips and cut short at the collar of her shirt and it’s underlying leather. She is wearing a chain mail shirt and leather breeches notched to make room for a short upcurved triangular tail, sword over the shoulder, blades on each hip. The lower legs bare with black clawed toes and back bending knees like a chicken. He glances up at Vorrik, who remains unmoving with yellow eyes staring across the room.
The female walks without pause to the Ghenid corner, barking at Olgarkin with a sideways glance “Another of what they have.” as she passes the bar. She leans over them and says something. One laughs and says something back, another shakes his head. Then in a blink she has one on each side held up off the ground with her claws on their necks. These guys are six-four, six-five and 200 or 220 hundred pounds each and she’s holding them up like bags of flour. Ghenid are strong, but that is beyond reckoning. The gamblers are deep in their dice and don’t notice..yet. The tall female drops the males, who fall with thumps, tipping chairs and spreading black Crua across the rocking table. “You want to be on the winning side.” she says to them. Glynni glances at her cousin, who nods and hands her the pitcher of Crua. She takes it to the beasts who are speaking their native language in high pitched whiny voices and sets the pitcher on the table, along with a cloth to wipe up the spill. The female lays 5 gold coin by the pitcher saying in a breathy squeeky voice “No trouble.” It is almost funny, these big cannibals, monsters in the wilds who talk with voices like a hinge needing grease. The Ghenid pours a cup and downs it in several gulps. "Ah, good" she says, wiping her muzzle with the back of her furred arm. Glynni takes the coins and returns to the bar handing 4 to her cousin who sweeps them into his box behind the bar, next to the spiked club.
A sharp yelp from the dark corner gets a turn of heads around the barroom. One of the males has his arm at his mouth as the female taps her dagger into it’s sheath at her leg and then rests the arm on the table. She leans in close and speaks quietly. The bar quickly loses interest with the lack of active violence. The female stands, the chain shirt shifting with a hiss. She walks out past the bar, nodding to Olgarkin and looking up at Vorrik, her lower jaw dropped with just tips of upper teeth showing with the lowers that is the Ghenid smile, she also nods to it. Then out the door. The males lean in close and whisper to each other, drinking Crua until both pitchers are empty. Then they too leave.
Good house tonight, humans, a few goblins, a pair of maned feline Bahku and a group of three Ghenid, big dog like creatures with large perky round tipped ears, manes braided or dyed, and coats with spots or stripes and ranging from blonde, to brown with green, and red-brown. His younger cousin, a woman named Glynni, is pouring ale or wine. Carrying out trays of the dumplings Olgarkin is steaming behind the bar. She has taken a pitcher of the nasty Ghenid drink, Crua, to their table - greasy, salty, spiced with some aromatic herbs or berries, half rotted meat and curled milk alcohol with a burn to make you gasp before vomiting the horrid stuff back up and laying sick for hours. Ghenid, Bahku and Goblins seem to like it and suffer none the worse than drinking beer or ale. Toxic to humans, elves and dwarfs. Vorrik the demon doesn’t mind it either, but prefers fresh meat and ritual offerings of blood or small animals. Plus the occasional accident. Olgarkin does enough business with Bahku and Goblins, as well as the occasional Ghenid or even Kobold that he keeps some Crua in the cellar.
A new guest enters - nearly 7 foot, dark, nearly black muzzle, wide and blocky, leathery wide nose, squared cheekbones and determined eyes set under deep brows. Narrow stripes on dark gold-brown, the red green flecked eyes of Ghenid. Her short mane is black, showing purple dye at the tips and cut short at the collar of her shirt and it’s underlying leather. She is wearing a chain mail shirt and leather breeches notched to make room for a short upcurved triangular tail, sword over the shoulder, blades on each hip. The lower legs bare with black clawed toes and back bending knees like a chicken. He glances up at Vorrik, who remains unmoving with yellow eyes staring across the room.
The female walks without pause to the Ghenid corner, barking at Olgarkin with a sideways glance “Another of what they have.” as she passes the bar. She leans over them and says something. One laughs and says something back, another shakes his head. Then in a blink she has one on each side held up off the ground with her claws on their necks. These guys are six-four, six-five and 200 or 220 hundred pounds each and she’s holding them up like bags of flour. Ghenid are strong, but that is beyond reckoning. The gamblers are deep in their dice and don’t notice..yet. The tall female drops the males, who fall with thumps, tipping chairs and spreading black Crua across the rocking table. “You want to be on the winning side.” she says to them. Glynni glances at her cousin, who nods and hands her the pitcher of Crua. She takes it to the beasts who are speaking their native language in high pitched whiny voices and sets the pitcher on the table, along with a cloth to wipe up the spill. The female lays 5 gold coin by the pitcher saying in a breathy squeeky voice “No trouble.” It is almost funny, these big cannibals, monsters in the wilds who talk with voices like a hinge needing grease. The Ghenid pours a cup and downs it in several gulps. "Ah, good" she says, wiping her muzzle with the back of her furred arm. Glynni takes the coins and returns to the bar handing 4 to her cousin who sweeps them into his box behind the bar, next to the spiked club.
A sharp yelp from the dark corner gets a turn of heads around the barroom. One of the males has his arm at his mouth as the female taps her dagger into it’s sheath at her leg and then rests the arm on the table. She leans in close and speaks quietly. The bar quickly loses interest with the lack of active violence. The female stands, the chain shirt shifting with a hiss. She walks out past the bar, nodding to Olgarkin and looking up at Vorrik, her lower jaw dropped with just tips of upper teeth showing with the lowers that is the Ghenid smile, she also nods to it. Then out the door. The males lean in close and whisper to each other, drinking Crua until both pitchers are empty. Then they too leave.
Properties
Material Characteristics
The Ghenid alcohol is a roughly filtered liquid, frequently with toothsome bits floating or hidden in it's body. The light oily syrup may be drunk as is, or diluted with water.
Physical & Chemical Properties
Crua may be spiced with herbs or berries who's flavor boil through the sinuses and out the top of your head, or add sweetness. One civilized Bahku with sophisticated tastes says that these herbs and berries add "depth" to the vile brew. The alcohol content may rival wines or even brandy or rum. It has a fizzy quality as well.
Origin & Source
Great Bows and Crua are the only things uniquely made by Ghenid and the secrets of both are tightly held. These secrets give status and ranking in the Ghenid Tribes and Clans. Only taking the Aedoteerua (the Soul Chain) might gain someone the chance to learn under a Ghenid maker -likely as slave rather than student unless a blood relative.
History & Usage
History
Ghenids claim that Crua was given by the Demon Queen, a gift to sweeten her other gift, life. Crua making and use is known in all the Clans and Tribes. It is used in rituals - as offering to ancestors, shadows and other important dead. Crua is frequently offered to the flame of the Rite of Offering ( T’Oahkhua : payment to ghosts) where it is sent to a named individual or the Rite of Treasure ( T’Oahghenua : payment of your own ghost ) where it is laid away in ones own Tomb in the Underworld. Crua is Ikhiaerrha, a thing of value as it brings not only a taste of life to the ghosts of the dead, but also the fire of spirits. It is smart to offer any quantity in a cup or skin, otherwise the ghostly offering or memoria may be spilled and lost. Indeed this is one of of the stories of B'ata, the fool male who can never do things well or correctly.
Everyday use
Crua is typically saved for the lead up to a major fight, a feast following hunt or raiding or special rituals and offerings. To drink it every day is possibly a show of wealth, but likely wasteful or worse still, sign of addiction and becoming Whaerso, the Waste of Skin or useless.
Hazards
Aside from drunkness, Crua has a physical stimulatory effect which may combine with regular alcohol dependence into a state of ridden by spirits of alcohol or others which is manifested as addiction, behavior changes and personality change as spirits exert possession.
Distribution
Trade & Market
Economic trade is a foreign idea to most Ghenid. They trade items or services for items or services they want now. The barbarian wild tribes like gold, silver and copper for decoration but place no great value on these metals. They understand that gold, silver and copper have value to other species, so they will use it for fire offerings for their tombs. Steel has value. Rarely do they make deals to trade Crua for metal. Why trade when you can take? Civilized Ghenid do understand trade and economic wealth and may deal with the wild tribes, buying slaves and Crua for steel and luxuries and then selling or ransoming products to others who may be interested.
Storage
For the Wild Tribes and Clans, which are most Ghenids, Crua is brewed and fermented in hide bags which may be buried or hidden. Once it is deemed ready, it is filtered, usually in woven grass. Storage is in skins in the tribes but may be barrel or cask stored in cities and towns.
Ghenid Culture
by Mutterwolf
Value
Connoisseurs might go to great hazard or cost to obtain special or quality Crua. Most don't - though exceptional brewers gain status in the Tribes and Clans, and with the ghosts of the Underworld who yearn for the fresh flavor of offerings.
Rarity
Crua is usually found where there are Ghenid. Most species would not consider it pillage in a raid. The few places that Ghenid are accepted in civilization, businesses that are run by or cater to them may have it or want to obtain it.
Odor
Both rich and nauseating to humans who say it can be like a very strong cheese, or puke
Taste
Greasy to buttery, salty, sour with rotten meat ureic flavor with mold and bile. Maybe sweeted or spiced with pepper or aromatics like juniper.
Color
Dark brown to black with small bubbles.
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