Flashback Brews are in the back!

[Sybel]

15th Day of Summer, 504 AV

Sybel’s employment at the Trough had been relatively uneventful. Being a barmaid provided little challenge. The best thing she’d learned thus far was how to draft a perfect pint. Otherwise, she spent slow nights picking at her cuticles and staring at the wall. There was only so much cleaning a person could do. And it was one such night that the brewmaster, a Drykas by the name of Regaris called her to the back.

”You looking to learn something, girl?” He squinted at her, long days in the Grass having dulled his eyesight. She blinked. ”I’m always looking to learn something. It just depends on what you’re trying to teach me.” She had always been uncertain of the old man, having given him wide berth in days passed. It was just difficult to assess him when he always had his head stuck in an ale barrel.

”I know you drink your fair share of beer. I seen you dippin into my kegs,” he said in his own awkward rendition of common. She grinned. It was difficult for her to be serious when caught red-handed. ”You’ve got me there. So?” He looked at her steadily. ”So, would you like to learn?” Sybel’s heart lurched. ”Of course! I mean…” This was the difficult part. ”Why me?”

”Well, yer sharp enough provided you got the interest. You learned our culture fast enough.” That was true. ”Ya seemed eager enough when I asked, so why not? My apprentices are a couple of boneheads. It might be nice to know someone’s listenin for a change.” That clinched it. Anything to show up the idiot brothers. ”Okay, I’ll bite.” She looked at him warily. ”How hard can it be?” And what a question that was. Sybel had no concept of how beer was made, save for the vague notion of steeping grain in water. He flashed her a crooked, toothy grin.

”Follow me.”

The back room of the Trough was gargantuan, with huge vats, hoses and barrels lining the walls. Before she could even contemplate backing out, Regaris began his first lesson.

”The first step to brewing anything is maltin the grain.” He approached a large tub and gestured for her to follow. ”And to do that, first ya gotta soak it. Barley grain is a good place to start, but any kind will do once you know what yer up to.” He gestured into the tub, where half-budded seedlings floated along the water’s surface. ”You let em float for a while and after a day and a half and then you want to fish them all out so they can complete the process themselves. I lay the seeds on the ground, the floor or wherever. I let them sit for mebbe, five or six days.” He patted the side of the tub. ”This thing here isn’t quite ready yet.”

She struggled to commit the details to memory.

”Finally, you’d bake the seeds in a big oven called a kiln. If you ever seen the pottery some of these women come up with, they bake it first in a kiln.” Okay, so soaking the seeds, drying them and then baking them? How did that even correlate to beer? With dread she realized it would be a very long night.

”Once you got the stuff baked, call it malt. The whole process is actually called ‘malting.’ Malting makes it easier to mill the grain and get all the sugar out in the next step. Sugar is very important for beer, whether ya know it or not.” Sybel was completely overwhelmed – already. ”Wait, so you do all that to the grain just to get it ready to be milled?” He nodded. ”A lot more to it than you thought, huh?” She could no longer tell if he really wanted her to learn or if he just wanted someone to talk at.
”I expect ya to write all this down. On slow nights, you’ll be back here with me. If you show decent progress, I might even take ya on as a student, full time.” An apprenticeship with the brewmaster? That was more than even she’d hoped for. Perhaps she could even make a life here. The thought was too appealing to deny. ”Alright, you’ve got me. I’ll write it out tonight, when I get done my shift.”

”Nah, you’ll write it out now.” He squinted at her unflinchingly. She just stared back. ”I know you got paper on ya. Use those order slips.” Begrudgingly, she fished out a folded up paper and a quill.

’Malting –
Soak the grain seeds in water for a day and a half – (40 - 45 bells)
Dry them on a flat surface for five to six days (120 – 144 bells)
Bake them in a kiln until dry (??)’

”How long does it take for them to dry in the kiln?” She frowned. He hadn’t mentioned a time. Regaris let out a barking laugh. ”It depends on the malt ya want. For starters, try 24 bells. You want ter bake it hot, but not too hot and you gotta keep the temperature steady. I’ll show ya how to do it when these grains are ready, but until then we’ll move on.”

She scratched in the details.

[Sybel]

”Now then. The next part is called Mashing. You mix what ya got in something called a mash tun, or a big ol’ tub with a false bottom. For smaller batches, and the brewin you do on your own time, you use a smaller tub called a lauter tun.” She nodded, quill scratching furiously. ”You mix the malt with hot water and stir it about. In the beginning, you gotta raise the temperature slowly so the grain stops producing sugar. That’s important – too much sugar and the whole thing is a mess. Mebbe one day you’ll learn that fer yerself.” He wanted her to learn by trial and error. What other way was there to learn?

”Anyway, with mashing you gotta draw the liquid through the false bottom and keep addin it to the top. That liquid is called the ‘wort,’ which is what we need for the next step. For big batches like this one, ya do it for mebbe a bell. For smaller batches, you mash out fer only ten, fifteen chimes. It’s important ya don’t leave the water sit, either. When yer done, you stop stirring and activate the tubes here –“ he pointed a set of reedy pipe-work protruding from the bottom – ”draining all the wort into a what we call a copper.”

He walked over to a large, metallic basin. ”That’s where the real fun begins.” Starting to get the feel for it, she walked up too and patted the side. ”Then you boil it, right?” He nodded. ’Yep. This is where you determine the real flavor of the beer. You add these.” There was a small, intricately woven basket sitting on the ground. ”These are called hops.” He held up a conical, layered herb. It almost looked like a budding plant that never quite bloomed. ”You can add other herbs too – hell, some even add in fruits and spices. I like apples meself. Anyway, you keep it all together at full boil for mebbe a bell and a half, at most.”

’Mashing –
Put grain in tun, stir while increasing temperature to stop sugar increase.
Draw out wort, continuously add it to the top, keep stirring 15 chimes – 1 bell
Drain wort into copper

Boiling –
Add ingredients and boil for a bell and a half’

”How do I know how much I need? For the ingredients, I mean.” Regaris gave her a wry grin. ”Smart questions. I shoulda tried this a long time ago. Those blockheads couldn’t tell their arse from a hole in the grass. It depends on what ya want. This batch is just straight up amber ale. You add four pounds o’ malt and two ounces o’ hops, with whatever else strikes ya.” She added the measurements. ”Next time, I’ll be teaching you about different brews. It’s always important ter start off knowing how it works. Knowing all the types comes later.”

Sybel wrote ‘amber ale’ as a disclaimer. The brewmaster glanced down at her sheet. ”What in the name of the horseclans is that?!” He snatched the paper out of her hand, nearly ripping it in two. ”I can’t read any of this. What kind of crazy language is it?” It was her turn to laugh. ”It’s called Shiber. I come from the south. Never learned to read or write in anything else.”

Stunned, he handed it slowly back. ”Alright, well. I s’pose that’s alright.” He scratched his head. ”Where was I?” Chuckling, she pointed back to the copper. ”We were talking about boiling.” On cue, he snapped his fingers. ”Ah, right. Now, when yer done the by-product settles down into something called a whirlpool. Ya won’t yield all of it. The flame underneath causes some of the wort to harden up and stick at the bottom. But these tubes carry what you got through to this tub here. It’s built just so once it starts spinnin, some called the trub cone will collect what ya don’t need in the middle.”

”So, the whole process is just about adding what you need and filtering out the rest?” She looked over her sheet. ”You got it, girlie. It’s like cookin only with more steps. Sometimes the whirpool is built right into the copper, other times you use a big tub. For smaller batches, you wanna have the cone right in the copper. It helps things go more quickly.” She nodded. It made sense, there was just a lot to it. ”So, the cone catches all the excess stuff, like the vegetable gunk?” He tapped the side of the big stone basin. ”Yep, exactly. All the dense stuff, like what remains of the hops and whatever else needs to be taken out of the wort. You spin it, then let it settle for twenty or thirty chimes.”

’Whirlpool –
Transfer to either a whirpool tub or begin whirpool in copper
Let settle for thirty chimes’

”From there, you gotta cool it down. That needs to be done as soon as the whirlpool ends. These pipes here move the wort to the wort chiller, a big tub ontop of another tub. You keep freezing water underneath of it, which cools it down. You don’t want it ice cold, but lukewarm. A little cooler than yer head.” She kept scribbling. ”From there, you ferment the stuff. That’s where it really becomes beer. These reeds move it to the last spot, the fermenter. It’s a lot like the chiller, because alcohol generates a lotta heat. You keep it at a steady temperature dependin on what kind of beer yer making. Warmer for ale, cooler for lager. For ale, ya want it to sit there with the yeast for about two weeks.”

She froze. ”What… What do you mean, yeast? Is it like bread yeast?” He nodded. ”Only slightly different, to be sure. Brewer’s yeast is pretty much the same as what you use for bakin.” She gulped. ”Uh, so how much do you need?” Regaris ran a weathered hand through his hair. ”There’s an equation, but that’s a lotta math. I tend to eyeball it, but I’ve been brewin all my life. When I started, my Father multiplied the gallons he was tryin to make by three or so, and again by one and a half. That tells ya pretty much how many portions of yeast ya need.”

’Yeast
3x gallons,
x1.5
= portions of yeast’

”So.. What would you call a portion?” She’d read recipes, but mostly Sybel sort of made things up as she went. ”Eh, about the weight of a copper miza each.” That made sense, but it’d take some practice for her to get it. ”Okay, so you have the yeast ready in the fermenter.” The brewmaster shook his head. ”Nah, you add it in. Once the wort is in there, ya add in the yeast ya need and let it boil. Finally, when all that’s settled, you move the whole lot into the casks. I let mine set for a couple o weeks and it’s good to go. We haul it up top, shove in a spile and at the end of each night, let a little air in to keep it fresh and settled for the day after.” That much she knew. She did it at the end of every nightly shift.

”What’s that step called?” He froze. ”Oh right. Conditionin. You condition it to the cask. The yeast settin in the there gives in just the right amount of bubbles. That’s why we never serve the bottom of a cask. It’d be nothin but yeast.”


’Conditioning –
Once fermented, the beer is cooled and moved to a cask. Leave for two weeks.’

He grinned. ”There’s a whole lot more I could tell ya, but fer now ya need to learn these basics. You work tomorrow?” Sybel sighed. ”When do I not work?” Regaris couldn’t resist another grin. ”We’re gonna start mashing a batch. I want you in here with me, so you can actually see how it’s done.” She smiled brightly. ”I’m in. You have to tell Dorvikul I won’t be up front, though. I’m not doing it.” Regaris hooted. ”That blubberous idiot ain’t gonna bother you, I’ll make sure of that.”

And he winked.

[Sybel]

16th Day of Summer, 504 AV

Sybel strode into the bar wearing a light linen blouse and pants, having opted for more breathable fabrics than her usual cotton dress. The men eyeballed her fiercely, unused to seeing the Benshira in casual clothing. Her boss Dorvikul, shook his head and pointed toward the back, unspeaking. It was obvious he was mad, but what on earth would he do about it? Nearly skipping, she pranced into the brew area where Regaris stood waiting.

”C’mon girlie. Boys, this is Sybel. She’ll be working with us on this batch. You treat her kind or I’ll have you out tending the bar quicker than yer heads can spin.” The two outliers, both Drykas boys, nodded briskly. ”She’ll be a fine sight,” one said, eyes trailing inappropriately.

”Tragan, out. I don’t need ya both anyway.” Muttering, he stalked out toward the front, casting a lingering glance back at the three of them before disappearing. ”Now then. We’re in the midst of the mash right now. You stir the grain while Telgar here drains the wort and adds it back him. All he needs is to work the valve and control the heat. You’ll be doing the hard work.”

She stared. ”Won’t we switch?” She couldn’t imagine stirring for a straight bell. ”Gods, no. It’d interrupt the process. You better get to it.” Rolling up her sleeves, she tried to think happy thoughts. There was a large wooden handle angled out, controlling the giant rake in the middle of the vat. She strode up the squat staircase and began to push in a circle. It felt like stirring a giant glob of syrup. ”Not too fast there girlie. You want an even motion, all the way around. Too fast and the process moves too quickly.” She grumbled. Sweat began to dew on her brow before long and her arms felt more and more like lead.

She tried to zone herself out, to think of her childhood tending the shop. How preferable that was to mashing grain in a giant tub, extracting the sugars seemingly one by one. ”Telgar, add more wood! That fire should be burning hotter, not going out!” Regaris began barking harshly in broken pavi. There was something about being the son of a glassbeak that she didn’t quite catch and something about accelerant, which was a total mystery to her. She focused on the sound of his voice, a steady drone in the background.

”Too slow!” She snapped to attention. ”Put yer legs into it! Use those legs!” Sybel’s arms were on fire. Clenching her core muscles and hamstrings, she strained to keep the motion. ”Push, push!” It sounded like she was in labor, from the way he raged. How long had it been? A few chimes or a whole day? On cue, Regaris replied. ”Ya got twenty more chimes to go, at least! Keep pushing!” Sweat began to pour into her eyes. Her whole body was covered in a fine layer of it. It felt like cold-blooded murder and she wanted to howl.

”You push like a girl!”

Unable to resist, she focused on the training from Sijah - the brutal agony of holding a sword aloft for seemingly hours on end. She pushed steadily, unwilling to move faster or slower, unrelenting. She was nearing a tipping point, ready to keel over from the heat of the mash until –

”Enough, good work!” She very slowly disengaged from the handle. He clasped her on the back roughly. She turned very slowly so as not to collapse, descending the stairs one by one. ”Telgar, run and get her a pint and a glass of water.” The boy ran off with hesitation. He once was forced to work the handle, too. ”Ya did good. It looks even enough to me. Now, here’s the valve.” She sat on the floor, weakly. ”C’mon, don’t just sit there. Turn the lever to start drainin it into the copper.” She glared at him, thinking a whole host of expletives before rising and starting the drain. Telgar returned with her water and beer.

”It’ll take a few chimes for the whole vat to drain. Starting soaking up that ale. It’ll give you some strength.” She nearly downed the whole thing in a single sitting. By the time she’d polished off both beverages, they were set to boil.

”The malt is in, so all you gotta do is add the hops. For this batch, we’re making it plain.” She walked over to the basket. ”Go on. Add four fistfuls. I do three, but yer hands are smaller.” She looked between the large metal tub and the hops. ”I just throw it right in?” He chuckled lightly. ”Sure do.”

Sybel gathered it up by the handful and tossed it over the side, into the roiling liquid below. ”Now!” He clapped his hands together. ”We wait. Telgar will go out front to help and you can sit back here and enjoy another ale. Pull out the paper again darlin, ‘cos we’ll be talking about what types you can make.”

She withdrew her pad and stared intently while he drew up another glass.

”There are two types – ale and lager. Beer is like wine, where it’s either one or the other. Which one you’re making depends on the kind of yeast ya use.”

’Ale versus Lager’ she penned in.

”You use top fermentation yeasts for ale and bottom for lager. Ale needs two weeks of fermentation where lager needs six. There is brown ale, blonde ale, pale ale, porter, dry stout and lambic ale. I’ll explain each one to ya. Brown ale is usually called ‘nut brown’ and has very little hop flavor. Blonde is fruitier, sweeter than dry. Pale ale is the hoppiest, the most bitter. Porter is dark and full-flavored, a good place for starters as it covers up cloudier ale. Lambic is the real fruity stuff, adding apples and the like to the initial boil. You got all that?”

She nodded emphatically, her hand dancing across the page

’Ales – two weeks
Top Fermentation
Brown – Little hop flavor
Blonde – Lighter, sweeter
Pale – Bitter, strong
Porter – Dark, rich
Lambic – Fruity, sweeter

Regaris seemed satisfied. ”Next you got lagers. They aren’t as diverse. Generally, your average lager is tawny and a bit weaker than ale. It’s got a mellow taste, so women tend to favor it.”

’Lager- six weeks
Bottom Fermentation
All – Light, Mellow’

”So how do you distinguish the yeasts?” Sybel frowned at the paper in hand. ”The strain. You keep tops warmer and bottoms, cooler. I don’t know too much about it, save to say when buyin’ yeast you know what to ask for.” That was simple enough. She scratched that in underneath.

[Sybel]

By the time all was said and done, Sybel was exhausted. Transferring the wort to the whirpool was easy – just the same as they’d done after the mash. There was still stirring to be had, but Telgar did the hard labor this time around while Sybel simply observed the process. It really did appear to be a whirlpool, the water curling in on itself as it spun. Thirty chimes passed quickly enough and before long they were on to chilling the wort. ”Why do they call it, wort?” She asked, releasing the lever. ”Dunno,” Regaris replied, squinting. ”Never really thought about it before.”

Helpful, she thought. Still, he seemed misty-eyed. Perhaps he’d really hadn’t had to think of it before then. The chilling process was uneventful and soon after, they transferred it to the fermentation tank. ”Go ahead girl, add it in nice and slow.” She was atop the short wooden ladder, emptying the yeast into the giant basin. ”Good, good. Nice even distribution. Now c’mon. Yer shift is almost done.” Gods, where had the time gone? Nodding, she descended and stood in front of him as if to be inspected.

”So… How did I do?” He looked her over sternly. ”I’d say… Ya did alright, kid. You really are bright, for what it’s worth. Now go help clean up out there. Tragan’s got the bar a mess.” She gaped at him. ”You still expect me to run the bar?” He arched a brow. ”Work is work, girlie. Get to it, before it starts to stink. Go on.” Shaking her head, she stalked off to the front. Why did every adult on earth seem like such a tyrant? Grumbling to herself, she went out front to assess the damage done.

FIN

[Praetorian]

Your Diligence Has Been Rewarded! Sybel Brewing +5 XP Writing +4 XP Endurance +2 XP Brewing Process Outline Brewing Ingredients Ale Versus Lager Types of Ales Adults are tyrants! Notes : Small grammatical note, I would suggest breaking up your paragraphs when a new person speaks. IE: Sybel wrote ‘amber ale’ as a disclaimer. The brewmaster glanced down at her sheet. ”What in the name of the horseclans is that?!” He snatched the paper out of her hand, nearly ripping it in two. ”I can’t read any of this. What kind of crazy language is it?” It was her turn to laugh. ”It’s called Shiber. I come from the south. Never learned to read or write in anything else.” It is a small note, but one that makes reading your wonderful writing a bit easier. Other than that, I love the way that you pace things and describe things, it is very natural to read... when I'm not rereading to see who was speaking. I enjoyed reading this and learned quite a bit! Good job! Have any questions, comments, or concerns? Think that I might have missed something? Feel free to message me.