Chapter 17: Charcoal (Patreon)

“Pete, any word on the charcoal?”

“No, not yet Balin.”

“Ugh, what’s takin’ so long!”

“I don’t think we have enough silver, yet. I’ll talk to Tim.”

*******

“Tim! How’s the charcoal supply coming along?”

“Oh, hey Pete! Sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been dealin with inventory for Grim. What do ya need?”

“Charcoal?”

“Right. I’m afraid I don’t have any good news. If ya bring me next month’s silver though, I can probably get ya somethin.”

“Haven’t I already given you-“

“It just isn’t enough yet Pete.”

“It’s been nearly 16 silver!”

“Nah, you’re misremembering, it hasn’t been that much. Just bring me next month’s silver and I’ll deal with it.”

“Alright, thanks for the help, Tim.”

“Of course, Pete, what are friends for? I’ll see you all at the mess hall tonight!”

*******

“How are things going with your experiment Pete?”

“Goin well Speaker John, thanks for asking!”

“What’s next? I want to know what that giant shit pile was for!”

“You’ll see!”

“What’s the holdup?”

“Uhh…. Because…. I’m waiting for charcoal.”

“Can’t you just buy some?”

“Yeah, we’ll get some soon.”

“Alright, good luck!”

*******

“Thanks for the caudle Pete! It helped a lot!”

“You’re welcome! I’m glad you liked it!”

“Any luck with your venture!”

“Not yet, I’m just waiting for the last few pieces to fall into place!”

“Why are we yelling?!”

“I don’t know!”

******

“Hi Tim!”

“Allo Pete! Sorry I can’t stick around, runnin’ an errand right now.”

“There was something I needed to talk to you about.”

“Is it important or can it wait?”

“… I can’t quite remember, so I guess it wasn’t too important?”

“We all forget things sometimes. Don’t worry about it! Do you have some silver for me this month?”

“Oh right! That was it, here you go.”

“Thanks Pete. See you at dinner, you up for a game of hammercup?”

“Sounds great, see you then!”

******

*ping*

“Why are ya still stickin around here Pete? Didn’t ya have a grand plan to get out?”

*ping*

“Yeah, we can’t finish it yet Sam.”

*ping*

“Why?”

*ping*

“I…. can’t recall, but there was a good reason. I’ll ask Balin later. Come help me with this bag of ore.”

*****

“Alright Pete, here’s your monthly silver.”

“Thanks Grim!”

“What have you been using it for? I know you and Balin have been squirrelling it away for your grand plan.”

“Yeah! I need it for some…”

“Some…?”

“Uh…”

“Did you forget? I know it’s been a couple months since you finished with that Tiara damned trough, but surely you didn’t just give up! You said you needed some sulfur, so I’ve got some set aside for ya. Balin was yelling something about salt. What else do ya need?”

“It was missing something. It was…. charcoal! I need charcoal!”

“What? You’ve been waiting for that? I can just get you some Pete!”

“What!!! Really!?!”

“Aaron’s Arse Pete, if it gets you out of my camp even a day sooner, I’m more than happy to get you all the charcoal you need! Just leave your silver with me and I’ll deal with it.”

*****

I stepped out of the mining office a little bit confused. What had just happened? My mind felt like a fog had just lifted from it and my memories of the past few months were still covered in a haze. I slapped the sides of my cheeks a few times and considered going to wash my face. Then my eyes widened.

Charcoal! I have charcoal! Grim said he’d be able to get me some and he already had sulfur for me! I was finally going to make some gunpowder and get out of this prison and into a proper brewery! Huzzah! I practically skipped down the hallway, and I ran into Tim as I launched myself out the door.

“Sorry Tim!”

“What are you jumpin’ around for? You have the silver for this month?” Tim put out his hand. I paused for a moment, confused. Something was tickling the back of my mind. Something about Tim and charcoal and silver. Then I remembered!

Tim was good with silver! I might need to hire him as an accountant when we all got out of prison. A good accountant could make or break a fledgling company, and I’d need a lot of help on that end.

“Yeah, I got my silver, but more importantly!” I grinned massively and struck a pose. “Grim is gettin’ me some charcoal!”

“What!?” Tim cried. For a moment shock and anger seemed to play across his face. I blinked, because that couldn’t be right. Then he smiled and nodded. “I’m happy for you! What’s your next step?”

“That’s a secret!” I put a finger up to my lips. “Can’t be too careful with corporate spies about!”

“Corporate spies? Pete, this is a mine.” Tim quirked an eyebrow and rubbed at his hairless chin. I still kind of get the willies about that. I wonder if it’s my personal prejudices, some kind of left-over reaction from previous dwarf Pete, or if there’s a wonky genetic factor like with arachnophobia. Either way, Tim doesn’t deserve my scorn or distrust over something silly like shaving his beard. Even if it does make him look like Lex Luthor with a mullet!

“I’ll see you later Tim!”

“Alright, so long Pete.” Tim turned around and left. It may have been my imagination but it kind of looked like he was scowling as he went into the mining office. Ah well, I have more important things to worry about, like the creation of gunpowder!

I practically floated on air down to the mess hall for dinner. At last, after so many months of waiting, I had charcoal! I couldn’t quite remember why, but it had been incredibly difficult to get it. I guess that being underground would make it hard to get the wood necessary to make it. I passed Sam on the way and waved at him to follow me.

“I got what I needed Sam!” I patted him on the shoulder as he fell into stride beside me.

“Really? That’s great! I’m glad fer you. Remember that I got money on you not dyin, so stay safe.” Sam smiled, but he was limping a little bit and I noticed a slight tear in his thick leather trousers. I slowed down and he paused to catch his breath.

“Speaking of ‘staying safe’, are you alright?”

“Just got caught in a small rockslide on a dive. Nothin big, but my leg did get pinned. I have [Sense Danger] so I got out of the way in time. Balin and Wreck pulled me out.” Now that I looked more closely, he did look a little shell-shocked.

“Did you break anything?”

“Nah, just some cuts and bruises. Maybe a small sprain. Nothin’ to worry about, eh?” Sam struck a pose. “I’m one of the strongest dwarves around! Don’t ya worry!”

“Glad to hear it.” At this point the two of us had reached the mess hall and we made our way inside. Now that I had charcoal it was time to start phase 2 of making gunpowder with poop: the crapshoot.

I had a slight problem. Well, it was more of a big problem that could be solved with time and experimentation. Namely, I can’t recall the exact ratios required to make gunpowder. I knew that saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal were the main ingredients, but not how much of each to add to the mix. I was going to need to try a bunch of different ratios and pray I’d get the correct one. I was literally shooting in the dark with crap. I’d lost over three months dealing with this charcoal problem, and I hoped I wasn’t going to spend another three playing with measuring cups. Speaking of measuring cups, I had reached the front of the dinner line.

“Hi Bran, what’s for dinner?”

“I’ve got some roast serpent along with gravy and chittlins and some mashed erdroot.” The plate of food was incredibly appetizing. The roast serpent looked like a perfectly circular beef steak with a slightly orange tint to it. It was well marbled, and had a single bone in the center; probably the spine? The gravy was dark brown and steaming, and it smelled like thanksgiving. Caroline always made the most incredible Turkey, and I swore her stuffing was superior even to Grandma’s. I’ll probably never have another thanksgiving again...  Maybe I could start my own thanksgiving with pumpkin ale, and blackjack and hookers. As for the rest of the meal, erdroot is boring and I’m personally not a fan of chitlins. They are really healthy, but I’m just not the biggest fan of eating something that made poop.

“No vegetables?” I asked, as he finished spooning the erdroot onto my plate.

“You want a balanced diet? Drink yer beer.” Bran pointed at the barrel of radler.

“Ah yes, the dwarven food groups. Malt, meat, cheese, fruit and beer.”

“Not fruit and beer. It’s fruit WITH beer.” Bran grinned at me and I grinned back. He leaned in and whispered to me through a cupped hand. “I mixed turnips into tha’ erdroot. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I understand.” I nodded back, sagely. I still couldn’t believe that Bran had to trick the entire camp into eating their vegetables.  There were never simple veggies on the side. It was always some veggies hidden in a sandwich under a slab of roast beast and coated in sauce. It amazed me that every dwarf didn’t have gout after a couple hundred years of this diet.  “Anyway, can I borrow those measuring cups we talked about Bran?”

“Oh, are ya finally ready to get started?”

“Yep, I can probably start as soon as tomorrow!”

“Congratulations!”

I was soon surrounded by friends at the table as we discussed our future plans and current gossip. Sam and Balin got into a drinking competition as Wreck and Doc Opal talked about beard oil. After a half-hour Tim joined us and we got into a rousing game of hammercup. We were joined by a couple other convicts and soon there was a whole cheering squad. Sam crushed all of us, and some cups. I still think it’s a terrible game and a waste of good tankards. I needed to teach everyone some earth drinking games before I left. We ended the night with a toast. Nearly a dozen tankards rose in unison.

“To the Firmament!”

“To charcoal!”

“Fer the ancestors!”

“I want a Blessin too dammit!”

I clinked tankards with Tim and the two of us nodded at each other before we took a deep drink; him of regular beer, and I of radler. Indeed, it was good to have friends! Tomorrow I would start mixing gunpowder and then it was just a matter of time until l was free to explore this fascinating new world.

As long as nothing else went wrong.