Shining Temptations

Ebrus Keghauler couldn’t remember the last time he bounded through bustling streets with the widest of smiles on his face. Yet there he was. His feet barely touched the snow-dusted cobblestone streets of Mythrite as he raced up to his home Eronia. He was sure he looked like a fool. It wasn’t everyday you saw an adult dwarf, beardless, running mad across the town, not with good intentions. They could call him whatever they liked, but he didn’t care. His fortune was about to change for the best.
At last he reached his home, a rather humble affair, no different from the other houses of wood and stone that populated the hill. That was going to change. As he approached his door, Ebrus turned to gaze across town, to the other hill that stood opposite from his, the one decorated with grand manors and venues. Come spring, he and his brother would be living a manor of their own on splendorous Charlamaine Hill.
And it was all thanks to the embroidered envelope he clutched in his hand.
He swung open the door and, without hesitating, darted into the quaint and unexceptional sitting room that dominated the house. After lighting a candle, he glanced about the room, hoping to find his brother. “Bergrem?” he hollered. “Where are you? Have I got news to tell!”
The creaking of wood spawned from the stairway leading to the cellar, and soon emerged Bergrem, his hair and beard in a mess, holding two sacks of flour in his arms. He shook his hair from his face and looked back at Ebrus with the eyes of an eager dog. “What is it, brother?” he asked. “You’re home quite early.”
“I’ve done it, Bergrem! All of my hard work has finally paid off!” Ebrus produced the envelope in his hand. What would be an ordinary envelope for an ordinary letter was instead decorated with gold-printed embroidery along the edges as well as an intricate geometric design on the outside. “This heavenly parchment decided to grace me with its presence as I finished the Loon’s Lagoon batch at the meadery, and like an angel, told me all of our troubles will vanish!”
“Really?” Bergrem practically dropped the sacks of flour. “What does it say?”
“I shall tell you.” Ebrus whisked the parchment from inside the envelope and unfolded it, revealing its contents to his enthusiastic brother.

To the Honorable Ebrus Keghauler,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and standing. News of your delectable mead has reached my ears here in Daggerford, and I decided I simply must help myself to some. To your fortune, I am embarking on a long journey to Citadel Felbarr and will be stopping in Mythrite along the way to sample your mead.
This will be no ordinary visit. Should I find your brew as terrific as they say, I am willing to invest in the Keghauler Meadery and help you establish your brand across the Delimbiyr River and beyond. Let it never be said I do not support my fellow dwarves in business!
However, to receive my support, you must prove to me your skills in the craft. The mead you serve me must be brewed specifically for this occasion, never sold to anyone else. I will leave the contents of the brew to your judgement, but I will tell you I am a fan of cinnamon.
My arrival in Mythrite is expected to be between the 12th and 23rd of Uktar. With great fortune, we shall meet and begin a wonderful partnership.

Sincerely, Gulmund Broadshield Proprietor of Broadshield Caravans

Bergrem could hardly contain his joy. “Wow. Broadshield is one of the richest people in Daggerford. He’s mighty generous if he wants to invest in us.
“Well it’s only right,” said Ebrus. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and crossed his arms. “Our mead is the best in town. No question about it.”
“No question about it!” Bergrem repeated. “Still, Uktar 12 is barely more than a week away. Are you sure you’ll have enough time to make the right brew?”
“Of course I can.” The smile had not left Ebrus’s face. “I’m a Keghauler, remember? Brewing is in our blood.”
“Well that’s good. That means you can still come to the wedding.”
Ebrus blinked. “What wedding?”
Whatever glee filled Bergrem was replaced with a sudden vexation. “What wedding? My wedding!”
“Your wedding? You’re getting married?”
“Yes!” Bergrem shouted, a growl in his voice forming. “I told you about it last week. Don’t tell me you forgot already?” Ebrus tried to recall that moment. He did, in fact, remember Bergrem telling him something while working that he was really excited about, but Bergrem tended to be excited about everything, so he dismissed it. Seeing Bergrem’s face now, that was most definitely a mistake.
“Well, um…” was all Ebrus could muster before he just shut his mouth.
“I can’t believe this!” Bergrem raised his arms in the air. “I tell you about the most important day of my life and you forget it barely a week later. How can you do this?”
“Hey, don’t blame me.” Ebrus took a step back but straightened his shoulders. “I’ve been working day and night on the Loon’s Lagoon batch. I’ve been busy making sure we have the money to put food on our table. Who are you marrying anyway? Last I checked you were swooning over that halfling baker.”
“Her name is Brena, Brena Greenfoot. And yes. I am marrying her.”
“Really? Didn’t you only meet her five months ago?”
“Yes, and we’re very happy together.” Bergrem clenched his fists. “Maybe you would have known if you bothered paying attention to my life.” The words stung through Ebrus’s chest, knocking him off guard. He broke off eye contact.
“Okay. Yes. Fine. It was stupid of me to forget,” Ebrus grumbled. “Can you remind me when it is then?”
“It’s on Uktar 11.”
“Seriously? You couldn’t have picked a better date?”
“How were we supposed to know Broadshield would be coming?” Bergrem puffed his chest out. “Are you seriously going to skip the wedding so you can brew?”
“You know how much money Broadshield has. This can set us up for life. I can’t throw this opportunity away.”
“Brother, you’ve been working straight for weeks and I really want you to be at my wedding. Just promise me you’ll find time to make it.” At this point, Bergrem’s rage had faded, replaced only with a sense of pleading.
Ebrus sighed. “I’ll try, Bergrem. I’ll try.”