The Quest calendar (continues)… part 12

Another disaster awaits Faris upon her return to Ironfell.

As I approached Ironfell, the river was clearly dirtier than upstream, and I realized smoke was rising from the town. I docked and rushed to clear people from burning buildings. One gnomish child was too scared to move, so I grabbed her and leapt out the window just as the building collapsed behind us. She ran off and I spotted the culprits behind the fires: a trio of fire sprites! In a flash, I hit them each with an arrow, knocking them into the water.

Then I was all over the place, helping extinguish fires at the boathouse, Misty’s, the blacksmith’s, a bridge, and rescuing some children from another burning bridge before it collapsed. I spotted more fire sprites and rushed to vanquish them before they could cause more damage. One hopped on my head, burning me; I shot the other two before they could get close.

Once the fires were out, I stumbled through the town in an exhausted state. I found a rag doll in the remnants of one home, and luckily encountered a young half-orc who claimed it. I stumbled into an inn that survived the flames and was gifted a meal and a room.

Driftless Glen Distillery

Recently, I drove to Minneapolis for a weekend. Without traffic or pit stops, it would be around a six hour drive. But what fun is a road trip without some interesting stops along the way? The first stop was to revisit Ehlenbach’s Cheese Chalet to purchase some bratwurst for that evening’s grill. It was a little early for lunch at that point, so we ignored the variety of restaurants at that exit and rejoined the highway.

Almost immediately, I noticed a billboard for Driftless Glen Distillery – and restaurant – in Baraboo, twenty miles down the road. Between cities in Wisconsin, that’s only three or four highway exits. This is not dissimilar to how I discovered Journeyman Distillery a few years ago, though the signage for finding Driftless Glen once we left the highway wasn’t as good as Journeyman’s. Fortunately, technology was able to determine the correct path, leading us past Circus World, which I may have to return for on a separate occasion.

As the weather was near perfect (and, let’s be honest, there’s still a pandemic going on), we opted to dine outside. This provided a lovely view of the river, including the occasional kayakers drifting by. I rarely drink soda, but on a whim, ordered a Shirley Temple. I was a bit puzzled by the color when it arrived, it’s darker than usual… it’s made with real cherry juice instead of the usual grenadine.

Driftless Glen Distillery in Baraboo, Wisconsin. A Shirley Temple made with real cherries. Pasta salad. Driftless Glen sampler pack: brandy, bourbon, rye, 51 rye; Mammoth Distillery Cherry Bounce; Driftless Glen New American Gin.

The food was as tasty as the drinks, and we followed up our lunch with a stop in their retail shop. Torn between multiple bourbons and ryes, I found a sampler pack that settled the choice for me. When I queued up to pay, the couple in front of me asked where the samplers were so they could purchase one as well. They had a couple different gins as well; I opted for their New American. (The Mammoth Distilling Cherry Bounce was waiting for me in Minneapolis; I haven’t been to their distillery… yet.)

I can’t speak to the brandy… it’s tasty, but I don’t recall the last time I drank brandy, so have little room for comparison. Their bourbon, rye, and gin are also nice. The 51 Rye, however… well, that’s something worth taking a detour for. I would absolutely go out of my way to buy that again. Not that I have to – now that I know about Driftless Glen, I know to look for it at my local Binny’s. Though I suppose I’ll have to visit again for their Shirley Temple.

The Quest calendar (continues)… part 11

Faris, in retrieving the wizard Edvarius, is roped into helping resolve Ironfell’s problems before he can travel to West Haven.

I purchased a row boat for my mule, Aldar, to pull up river, along with more rations. I searched for tassleroot while Aldar pulled the boat. I found one bushel to sell later, and paused to eat some rations. I continued upriver until a flaming arrow flew at me – a gang of gnolls was attacking! One actually managed to hit me, but I took out his friends easily. A couple fled, so I anchored the boat and snuck after them. Thwap, thwap, whoosh, thwap! Three of the four dead by my arrows before they could get off a shot. The fourth one got lucky though.

After they fell, I noticed more gnolls emerging from their tents, all women, children, and elderly. As I turned away to return to my boat, one of the pups ran over and handed me a tribal mask embedded with gold and gems.

I continued north, up the river, and reached a fork. The left looked turbulent, the right calm. Ideally, I would have gone right, but the boulders to the left reminded me that Edvarius mentioned the giants had been throwing rocks in the river. It was hard steering through the turbulence, I narrowly avoided hitting rocks several times. Just when I thought I was clear, a boulder tumbled down the mountain, thrusting the boat out of the water, then slamming back down. Ouch!

Another boulder crashed down the mountain and rolled past me. I glanced up the hill and saw a laughing giant lifting another boulder. I clambered out of my boat, quaffed an elixir to boost my physical skills, and snuck through the trees towards it. I snuck in fairly close, then tried to calm him down by talking gently. He looked puzzled for a moment and briefly stopped hurling rocks. The peace was momentary, he then ripped a dead tree from the ground and swung it at me. Thank goodness for my animal friends, with their help I evaded every swing and eventually killed the giant.

I rummaged through the giant’s camp, finding some food and a few coins. I assumed the coins were stolen from less fortunate travelers. Then I noticed the giant had a belt, worn on his wrist. I put it on and immediately felt stronger. I returned to my boat and headed south, a far easier trip than coming up river. I harvested more tassleroot en route, and paused briefly to eat.

Frances and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning

Saturday started like any other day: I woke well before my alarm with four cats on the bed, and still got up early enough to shower before feeding them. After feeding them, I made myself breakfast, then went for a walk, planting Pokemon in several nearby gyms. I hung my laundry on the side patio, and decided to move my awesome new minion rain barrel to middle of the mulched area. I realize, it’s not a practical spot for a rain barrel, but I get to see it out the window every day.

I decided I should pull the trellis over to support the honeydew that volunteered by the radishes. I noted when I pulled it off the mulch that the indoor planter, emptied of plants and stored upside-down by the shed, had been resting slightly on it. I picked its placement and opened the shed for a digging tool, to better push in the supports. I then dangled some honeydew vines over the trellis (adding insult to injury, these need to be re-hung), pulled a weed, and put the tool back in the shed.

Carrying the weed still, I was walking towards the side door when the first yellow jacket stung. Thinking it a mere wasp, knowing there was a wasp nest further out in the yard that I’ve been dealing with, I made a brushing motion towards my right shoulder and said “wasp.” The second sting hit my left leg, at which point, the cursing began. I swung my hand that direction and glanced at my right shoulder, noticing a yellow jacket attached to my black t-shirt.

Moving faster now, I flipped open one of the compost bins, dumping the weed I was carrying into it. Standing outside the side door, I brushed off the various spots that had been stung and shook out my hair, in case any of the beasts was hiding in there. I stepped into the garage and felt another sting on my shoulder. Imagine, if you will, a pixie only as tall as your thumbnail jamming a tiny poisoned dagger – repeatedly – into your skin. I stripped off my shirt and dropped it on the floor, searching for the miniscule monster that was causing my pain. Unable to find it, I shook out my shirt and fled into the house, rushing into the hall bathroom before pulling off my shorts and checking them for any intruders.

For some reason, Cassandra, who had just woken up, was looking at me weird.

Having confirmed that none of the yellow jackets were in the house with us, I addressed my injuries and prepared Cassandra’s breakfast. I stepped out to the garage again during that preparation and realized the last – and presumably first – yellow jacket was trapped in there. With Zuko’s help, might flying insect hunter that he is, I found the offending creature and smashed it with shoe in hand against the window screen.

As I wavered on going to the farmers’ market – for bread (again) – I remembered the company, Clean Pest Solutions, that dealt with our ant problem a couple years ago. I couldn’t tell from their website whether they would handle yellow jackets, so I submitted a quick note on their contact form and headed out to do my shopping. I might have been five minutes from the house when they called me back.

Yes, they could handle yellow jackets. Their next available date was Monday… was that OK? They could send someone out with a bee suit to address the issue, along with some preventative measures around the house.

I showed the gentleman where the issue was likely to be (I was right!), confirmed that there was a shovel in the shed, then retreated indoors as he geared up the bee suit and filled his tank from the front hose. Then I stood in the bay window as he pulled my indoor planter away from the shed, dug into the dirt with the shovel, then retreated – a couple times, once all the way to the front yard – before he began spraying the area. Eventually, he dug out the nest and carried it over to the window where Zuko and I were watching, before disposing of it. (Zuko was trying to hunt all the flying insects outside the window.)

After finishing and shedding his bee suit, I was told to leave the area alone for 48 hours – including leaving the shed, which he sprayed inside and around, open. This was apparently the most aggressive nest he’d encountered, making me grateful that I’d hired someone to deal with it.

If you’ve never dealt with yellow jacket stings before, they start small and spread out over time. The near circle on my left leg was about 2 inches each direction Monday morning; by the afternoon, it was 3 by 4 inches, still somewhat rounded. It seems to be the worst one, though I don’t know if that’s due to location or if I was stung there more than elsewhere. I recommend putting yellow jacket interactions in the “don’t try this at home” category.

Two and a half days later, I ventured out before dawn in a light rain, illuminating my path with a headlamp. I cautiously approached the shed – open these past two days – looking inside for any buzzing creatures or the beginnings of a new nest. Having spotted none, I peer in, shining my light on the other half of the shed and moved a couple items they could have hidden under. Satisfied to find no signs of yellow jacket life in my shed, I secured both doors, wondering where the lock was. (I was able to spot it from the bay window – it’s on top of the shed, which will require a step stool for retrieval.) I’ll have to keep an eye out for new nests, and I’ll store the empty planter in the garage once it’s fully rinsed of both the yellow jacket carcasses and stuff that killed them.

Thoughts on Firebreak

When I started reading Firebreak by Nicole Kohrher-Stace, I noted that it reminded me of Ready Player One. As I read more, that was not the only dystopian setting it brought to mind, as you’ll see in this review. This review was originally published in the April 1, 2021 issue of Booklist.

Mal, the protagonist of Nicole Kohrher-Stace’s Firebreak, is one of many war survivors in old town working multiple jobs to scrimp by, including her team’s video game streaming. The team lives with several roommates in a converted hotel room run by Stellaxis, the company that owns this half of town, and is the only legal provider of drinkable water. When Mal catches sight of an elusive SecOps character, special NPCs modeled after Stellaxis’s twelve bioengineered operatives, the team launches in pursuit in the game to catch her on video for two seconds before their power curfew kicks in. By the time Mal heads down for her daily ration of water, they’ve secured a lucrative contract, involving an in-person meeting and a conspiracy theory, paying them to capture images of the three living SecOps characters. When Mal returns to find out why the next payment failed, she becomes involved in a fracas that will endanger everyone she knows. This dystopian novel will appeal to fans of Ready Player One and The Hunger Games with its blend of gaming and real life adventures. Mal’s unwitting evolution from disadvantaged video gamer to real life hero will appeal to every reader’s inclination to improve the world around them. 

What good books have you read recently?

A return to historically inaccurate weirdness

The Bristol Renaissance Faire re-opened to amazing weather – an overcast day in the 70s – last weekend after taking a year off for the pandemic. Adjusting for the still ongoing pandemic, masks are required for the unvaccinated, and the schedule seems a little lighter this year, including fewer themed weekends – the only themes this year are Steampunk (July 17 & 18th) and Pirate (August 7 & 8). Someone should tell the Spider-Man we saw with the Infinity Gauntlet and a pirate hat to go back next month.

Background image of Guido's Academy of Theatrical Swordplay, with images of Dan the Bard, Adam Crack's Fire Whip show, and Cirque du Sewer juggling with a cat on her head

As in previous years, we saw a mix of new(-ish) and old shows, a bit of shopping, and some tasty food. We started the day at the always entertaining Adam Crack’s Fire Whip show, and followed immediately with Guido (one of the two swordsmen; Dirk is taking the summer off) at his new Guido’s Academy of Theatrical Swordplay, featuring Guido training the next generation of Faire actors.

After a long wait for a caffeinated beverage, we enjoyed one of Dan the Bard’s concerts with his tremendous songs about Dungeons & Dragons. Fans of any role-playing games will appreciate his tales about players going woefully off task and monsters they encounter. Then we rounded out the day with a Cirque du Sewer performance, watching cats and rats comically misbehave during their acts.

In summary, it was a fabulous day of delightful entertainment on a surprisingly cool day.

The Quest calendar (continues)… part 10

Faris arrives in Ironfell and requests permission from Lord Aaron to borrow the city’s wizard.

As I headed to Lord Aaron’s manor, an old fisherman recruited me to find a jewel missing from the statue of Nilena, Goddess of the River. Awkwardly, he believes Lord Aaron stole it. I accepted his advance of three gold, then headed to the lord’s manor, delivering the letter from Lord Fellmont.

I was surprised to learn that Lord Aaron openly despises Lord Fellmont, though he acknowledged receiving frequent assistance from West Haven. He granted permission for Edvarius to accompany me only after finishing his current assignments, and suggested I might be able to assist.

Leaving the house, I spotted a jewel in the treasure room. Assuming it was the missing jewel, I attempted to sneak past past the guards. When they noticed me, I convinced them that as Lord Aaron’s guest, I should be allowed in. The jewel was, in fact, brilliantly beautiful, emanating a calming power, but that energy seemed to be faltering. I picked the lock and retrieved the gem, feeling no guilt at stealing it from this man whose greed was endangering his own city. I returned the gem to the statue on my way to find Edvarius. The fountain immediately began to flow when the jewel was reset, and the water seemed cleaner than that of the river.

Meeting Edvarius was depressing. He detailed all the problems facing Ironfell and bid me travel north to parlay with the giants. He seemed relieved at the prospect of going to West Haven, but angry about the tasks in Ironfell that took priority.

I forgot to buy bread.

I went grocery shopping Saturday morning and forgot to buy bread. (I generally make rolls, but I prefer to buy loaves of bread.) After dropping off some spare raspberries and strawberries that afternoon, I considered stopping somewhere to buy bread, but there aren’t any shops on that particular route home. So I deferred the chore until Sunday.

Early Sunday morning, it occurred to me that farmers markets are open again, and there was probably at least one near me on a Sunday. For those of you unfamiliar with farmers markets, they’re typically outdoor markets with fresh produce and other shopping that are only at that location one day a week. They frequently have fresh bakery products, which is what drew me to Google this fine morning.

Sure enough, I found a Sunday morning farmers market five miles away. Shortly after eight in the morning, I headed out, hoping to find bread and perhaps some bite-sized tomatoes.

A loaf of sourdough rye bread

As you can see, my mission was successful… there were several stands with baked goods, one specifically with loaves of bread, where I selected a sourdough rye bread. Directly across from it was a produce stand where I procured a multi-colored selection of small tomatoes.

The unexpected purchase, however, was the delightful find for the day. Anybody who has gone to the nearby Renaissance Festival has experienced the delicious smell of roasted nuts with tempting samples luring the passerby in. Apparently, the Geneva French Market includes freshly roasted nuts as well… with the choice of whiskey-roasted or vanilla nuts, produced by Nuts To Go. They are, in fact, quite tasty.

And that is why I went looking for a recipe – Honey Whiskey Roasted Pecans | Kara Lydon – and am wondering what effect using different whiskeys will have on the flavor.

The Quest (calendar) continues… part 9

Faris sets out on her next great adventure, sent to borrow the wizard Edvarius from neighboring Ironfell. A simple quest, surely.

I bought myself a mule for the trip, figuring it would be useful for the four day journey. I also hit up the job board for a bit more coin, not knowing what I’d find in Ironfell. I tried to help an ill grandmother, but you can’t cure old age. My live performance at a tavern actually fared better, and did spying for a betrayed gnome.

On my way out of town, I bought more rations and health potions, drinking a couple immediately to make up for the excursion into the wizard’s lab. There was no sign of game near the road, though as I sat down to eat some rations, it became apparent why – a bear lumbered into my campsite and lounged across from me. I offered her some of my foot, which she snuffled at before eating, and realized her name was Fola.

Late the next day, I encountered a broken-down wagon with one wheel off. The supposed merchants asked for my help repairing it, but I hesitated, something seemed slightly off about them. Sure enough, they drew weapons and attacked me. I missed one entirely, killed the second with a shot, and reinforced my third short with damage from the wizard’s wand. The unharmed ruffian fled, leaving the wagon and his friends’ corpses. Their weapons were in terrible condition, but they had some gold and a Wanted poster of themselves. I suppose I can claim that reward. Having cleared the area, I decided it was a good place to stop for the night.

I arrived in Ironfell and took a quick stroll around town before seeking the wizard. The herbalist mentioned being out of potions and low on ingredients because boaters kept buying her out. That may be partially because the Beacon, a light in the middle of the river, is fairly dim. As I walked along the river, I tried talking to some other residents. A fisherman flat out ignored me, though I noted his catch seemed small and generally unhealthy. The ferryman was more forthcoming, said they haven’t gotten much work because of the raids, and the people to the south blame them for the mysterious poisoning of the river. A porter bought one of my health potions, rambling about rodents shooting at him last time he went north, and expressed concerns about giants that direction now.

Thoughts on The Grey Bastards

I’m not actually sure when this review posted (found it… May 4, 2018), it was written for Booklist, and I had referenced it back in 2018 on this post. I have since read the sequel to The Grey Bastards, and am looking forward to subsequent novels by Jonathan French.

Jackal is a Grey Bastard, one of several brotherhoods of half-orcs committed to defending the no-man zone between human civilization and the invading bands of orcs.  At least, that’s what Jackal and most of the half-orcs believe they’re doing.  Jonathan French turns fantasy on its head by featuring half-orcs as the unlikely heroes of his story, awkwardly sandwiched between their orc and human progenitors.  Further complicating matters in Ul-wundulas, or the Lot Lands, are the presence of isolationist elves, homicidal centaurs, and a group of halfings who are religious zealots working towards the return of their god.  The ugly secrets, betrayals, and twists in this book keep the pages turning as Jackal and his friends discover and fight back against the dark magics and conspiracies involved.  Between the lies they’ve been fed and the isolation between the various races, Jackal begins the book with little real knowledge of the world’s problems and his hoof’s place in fixing or causing them.  By the surprising conclusion, he’ll have answers that lead to more questions, and ultimately to a sequel.