02.06.592 AF (+20 Days)
[Walter]
The harvest season had concluded successfully. The fields had yielded Wheat, Barley, Peas, Lentils, and Potatoes. Thanks to the adoption of canal irrigation and the innovative four-crop rotation system, the once-fallow half of the land was now replaced by three-quarters of fertile, crop-producing fields.
Previously, the village relied solely on wheat cultivation, with other essentials imported from outside. Now, the diverse range of crops provided a more nutritious and balanced diet for the villagers while mitigating the risks of crop failures caused by pests or diseases targeting a single crop. Additionally, the continuous cultivation ensured year-round productivity, significantly increasing the overall yield. This improvement not only secured ample food for the villagers but also reduced the need for imports, strengthening the village's self-sufficiency.
This season's harvest yielded enough to sustain 500 individuals until the next cycle. After setting aside a portion of the crops for seed preservation, there was still a substantial surplus to export to the capital, where the demand for provisions is ever-growing. The legumes, in particular, promised to command a premium price.
Satisfied with the outcome, I rewarded each farming family with a silver coin—equivalent to a month's earnings for them—a gesture of gratitude for their hard work. Last year's debt of fifty silvers to the crown had been repaid on time, though it left our finances strained. This year, however, the surplus will more than compensate. I estimate the exports alone could bring in at least a couple hundred silvers, securing our village's prosperity.
The keep's renovation had taken place last year as well, though I opted not to invest too heavily in rebuilding it entirely. Instead, I focused on repairing the sections that truly needed attention. The walls were reinforced, and before long, the keep had become a solid structure, fit to be called a master's residence.
With the village's finances now in a comfortable state, I turned my thoughts to finding a specialty that would elevate the village's reputation and wealth. Simply being a village along the main route to the capital brought in revenue through toll taxes, but that wasn't enough to build lasting prosperity. I already had something in mind—a venture I had been preparing for since the previous year.
Outside the keep, an orchard from the time of the previous master stood, bearing fruit each season. While it had only produced oranges and blueberries, those fruits were more than adequate for my plans. I intended to start brewing beer—a staple in an era where the purity of water could not always be trusted. However, I had observed a problem: beer tends to spoil quickly, limiting its shelf life and potential for long-term storage.
This world had yet to realize the full potential of hops as a preservative; it was mostly used for medicinal purposes. This, however, worked in my favor, as it made the cost of importing various kinds of hops significantly cheaper. While the names of these hops were different from those I knew, I could easily identify their characteristics. After some research and trial, I had settled on three types that seemed most promising: Saaz, Cascade, and Hallertau. Though these weren't their true names in this world, I decided to call them by these familiar labels for ease of reference.
To keep my plans secret, I planted the hops within the confines of the keep rather than in the open orchard. Over the past year, they had grown significantly, and now I had a healthy enough supply of hops to begin brewing. Along with the hops, I had also prepared the necessary brewing equipment: mash tuns, boil kettles, fermentation vessels, and storage tanks. All that was left was for the harvest to be completed, and then I could begin the brewing process.
According to my calculations, producing one barrel (140 liters) of beer for everyday use would require approximately 180 to 200 kilograms of wheat, 60 to 80 kilograms of barley, 6 to 8 kilograms of oranges, and 2 to 3 kilograms of hops. This would be the first batch of beer I'd produce, aimed at the local inn. Given the size of the inn, with 30 to 40 regular visitors, one barrel should last about two weeks.
I'm also mindful that while my brewing method is quite advanced for this time, it will eventually be copied in a few years. To counter this, I plan to brand my beer and make it a name that everyone associates with quality. I've decided to name the brand "Carneer," a combination of "Carnell" and "beer." It may not be the most creative, but it sounds noble and fitting for a product that will hopefully become synonymous with the finest beer in the land.
I began moving towards a shed right outside the main keep but inside the fortification. It was the brewery. I had it built inside the fortification to make sure that the methods remain a secret as long as possible. Though it might be difficult to produce massively in this shed, it should be enough for a year or so, before it needs expansion.
The shed was spacious enough to house all the necessary facilities for brewing. It included a malting floor where barley could be germinated and dried, a brewing room equipped with a large copper kettle for boiling wort, a cooling room for fermentation, and ample storage for barrels of finished beer. The nearby canal, connected to Silverstream, would serve as a reliable source of water for both brewing and cleaning.
Brewing also requires careful temperature management, and as a fire mage, I was well-equipped for the task. My Lesser Fireball spell can maintain a consistent heat for up to an hour, ensuring the process remains uninterrupted. This would eliminate any concerns about heating the brewing room to the required temperatures.
In summer, brewing often halts due to the high external temperatures, which can disrupt the process. But Lukas, with his water magic, would solve this problem. By using his ice form, he could maintain a cool environment in the storage areas, ensuring the beer stays at the optimal temperature.
With the ingredients already in place, I've decided to begin with the most popular variety of beer, which will be marketed to the common folk. As the demand grows, I'll expand the range and introduce more exclusive options, but for now, this first batch would be the one to capture the public's attention.
The first batch of beer would be made with a careful blend of ingredients: 70% wheat for a light, smooth body and subtle sweetness, and 30% barley malt to add depth and balance. A moderate amount of Saaz hops would provide a distinct flavor, while a small amount of orange peel would lend a refreshing citrus note, perfect for enhancing its crispness.
Yeast, thankfully, was easy to come by, as it naturally grew in the brewing environment. With that ready, we'd allow the beer to ferment for a week. I had hired two workers for the job—both relatives of the keep's guard, which worked out well for security. I paid them five coppers a day, along with free meals and lodging in the keep's servant quarters.
After explaining the brewing process to the workers and ensuring they understood their duties, I watched over the making of the first batch. Once the beer was prepared, I personally placed the first barrel into storage. With that task done, I made my way back to the keep.
There, I instructed Frederick to hire the local carpenter to carve the sigil of House Carnell onto several hundred barrels. The lids would be sealed with a distinct wax stamp bearing the house's crest, ensuring each barrel would be immediately recognizable. I also arranged for two scribes from the capital to be contracted, tasked with writing the brand's name—"Carneer"—on small parchment labels, which would be affixed to every barrel. This would help solidify the branding and spread the name far and wide.
Additionally, I ordered a batch of branded mugs to be created, to be distributed alongside the beer barrels to inns and taverns. These mugs would further promote Carneer, ensuring that any visitor to the inn would see the brand and remember its name.
Now, contracting with existing inns were surely exciting. My village has only one inn, that was near the wooden gates of the village. It took me ten minutes to reach the inn. It was not very busy at the time because the regular drinkers were out in the fields working hard as fields are to be tended to before the new seeds are to be sown after the harvest.
The owner, Eadric, is a burly man with a weathered face, framed by dark hair streaked with silver which comes with age. His beard is short but thick, always dusted with traces of flour. He had dressed simply in sturdy tunics and a thick leather apron, but his hands seemed busy, as he wiped mugs.
"Eadric," I said, gathering his attention.
He noticed me immediately, and in such a small village, everyone knows the face of their ruler.
"Master Walter!" he said with a warm smile, setting the mug aside. "What brings you to my humble inn today? Surely not for a pint."
I grinned at his jest, pulling myself up to sit on one of the tall stools at the counter. "Not a pint, Eadric, but you might perhaps like a barrel or two."
His brows furrowed, intrigued. "A barrel? You're brewing beer now, Master Walter?"
"Yes. It's a new variety called Carneer. I've worked hard on the recipe, and I believe it could be something special for Cardhan. I wanted to see if you'd be interested in selling it here at your inn."
Eadric leaned against the counter, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Tell me about it then. What makes this Carneer so different?"
"It's brewed with a balance of wheat and barley, giving it a smoother texture and a fine balance of sweetness and earthiness. And there's something else—I've perfected a process to give it a sharp, crisp finish. It lingers just long enough on the tongue to leave you wanting more, but never overwhelms the drinker. Perfect for an inn like yours."
Eadric's eyes narrowed slightly in interest. "A sharp finish, you say? That does sound different. So, what's the price you're asking for this intriguing Carneer?"
"210 coppers for a barrel," I said. "That's 140 liters. You can sell it for 2 coppers a liter, meaning you'd make 280 coppers. That's 70 coppers profit per barrel."
Eadric nodded slowly, doing the math in his head. "That's a decent return. How long would a barrel last me, you reckon?"
"With your 30 regulars, a barrel should last you about two weeks, give or take," I replied. "That's around one and a half silver coin in pure profit every two weeks, Eadric. And all you'd have to do is pour it."
The innkeeper chuckled, setting the mug he'd been wiping on the counter. "Silvers for sitting here and pulling pints? That's a tempting offer, Master Walter. But I'm curious—how long does this beer of yours take to brew?"
"Just a week," I said confidently. "It'll always be fresh, crisp, and ready to serve. You won't have to worry about long waits for delivery."
"That's fast," Eadric admitted. He stroked his beard again. "But tell me this—what happens if folks don't like it?"
"I'm confident they will," I said firmly. "But here's the deal: I'll give you the first barrel on credit. If it doesn't sell, you can pay me back at your own pace. No risk at all."
Eadric leaned back, considering the offer. "You're a sharp one, young Master. Fine, I'll give your Carneer a try. When can you deliver the first barrel?"
"Next week," I said, my grin widening.
"Then it's settled," Eadric said, extending a calloused hand. "Here's to your Carneer, and may it flow like the Silverstream's water."
I shook his hand, my excitement barely contained. "You won't regret it, Eadric. This beer has a flavor that's going to set your inn apart from any other."
The innkeeper chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with interest. "We'll see about that. For now, I'll prepare the space for this new Carneer of yours. Cheers to success, young Master."