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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1689973" data-attributes="member: 2292">Hop BarleymanIt would be unfair to call Hop Barleyman drunk.  Not terribly inaccurate, he admits, but entirely unfair.  He’s a big man, after all, and he can handle his liquor whether it’s inside his body or out.He shifts the weight of the barrel on his back, holding it steady with his free hand.  The other keeps a steady grip on his walking staff, using it to feel out the path as he crosses the fields.Besides, he thinks to himself, it’s too nice a day to be drunk.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing, there’s butterflies flitting across the meadow.  People don’t know what they’re missing on days like this, working in fields and sitting in stores.  The only place to be on a summer day like this is on the road, carrying a fine barrel of Barleyman’s Brew to the local tavern.  Been good enough for the Barleyman for generations, it has, and he ain’t going to be the one to break with tradition.Although it is a little warm, he has to admit, and it would be nice to have a rest.Hop puts the barrel on the ground, in the shadow of an old oak, and wipes his forehead with a kerchief.Very warm, now that he thinks about it, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little drink while he’s cooling down.  Eager hands free a small mug from Hop’s belt and he pours himself a taste of the liquid amber.A gnome pops out of the space behind the oak’s roots, carefully attired in a suit.  His white hair is neatly coifed, and it regards Hop through a pair of thick spectacles.“Hop Barleyman?” the gnome asks.“Aye, that’d be me.”“Did you have an Uncle, named…err…Barrel?” the Gnome asks.“Ain’t heard that name for a while,” Hop says, scratching his chin.  “Bit of a black sheep, that one was.  Big lad, brave as anything, but strange in the head.  Care for a drink?”A second mug is freed from the belt, then pressed into the startled gnome’s hands.“Err, thank you,” the gnome says.“You should hear the stories about old Barrel though,” Hop says.  “They’d make your hair stand on end, they would….”It takes a few hours, and several more mugs of ale, before the bulk of Barrel's story is told.“So what you askin’ about ol’ Barrel for anyway?” Hop says, suddenly recalling the gnome’s question.“Wha’?“Barrel, you were askin’ if he was me uncle?” Barrel reminds him.The gnome smiles blearily.“Oh, yeah,” he says.  “I gotsh a letter for you.”It takes several minutes of searching to free the letter from the gnome’s pouch, but the crumpled parchment is eventually thrust into Hop’s hands.“Thanksh,” the gnome says.  “It’sh been shwell.”He pulls himself to his feet, trips over the tree root and disappears.“Well,” Hop says to himself.  “How do you like that?”</blockquote>

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