No purchase of beer
by Screwcap the Second
Busy as usual with his horse, general Sajagen sent little Akra with his calculation to the chief. Besides the animals bearing military supplies and armament he would require 27 mules duly assigned to him to carry his beer. The beer came in kegs of 20 kg each. Roughly 200 of these would be accompanying him on his mission into Northern China. The journey would take up to a year. The reply came back from the Mogul that 25 were too many and he would allow only 10. Irate, Sajagen overloaded 11 mules with 15 kegs each and departed, dispirited. He decided early on to begin to purchase his beer en route, to save the supply he was carrying for a time when traveling in enemy territory would make supply-buying difficult. Each keg hung in a bag of goat skin, amply designed to except mule dung.. The dung, named Dhdn in Mongolese,, imparted a fresh and wholesome flavour to the beer after being in it’s vicinity for a few weeks. The rest of the soldiers had to supply themselves by stealing, or buying if they had the coin to do so. It was Akra’s job to pick up each fresh mule turd as they journeyed and to pack it carefully with the others around the leather bags. If the young lad missed a dropping, Sajagen quickly reprimanded him.
“Here, you useless little horse turd! you are purposely leaving behind pieces of mule excrement to irritate me! Now, get on with you. Go pick that up or I’ll have your gizzard served alongsider my beer at tomorrow’s breakfast!” The boy always obeyed quickly when his general noticed relapse in him.
When they returned to their home city on the steps a year and a month later, Sajagen had forsworn beer altogether. Not a month into his journey, the entire mule train fell into a ravine and not a keg survived. He sent men down in a great hurry to scoop up all the beer they could in containers of whatever sort they happened to have to hand, but sadly it had all mixed with the mule feces and become almost unpalatable. Sajagen did try valiantly for a few weeks to imbibe the mixture but, despite almost heroic efforts, he eventually found the foulness of taste and the general muddiness f colour (now no longer amber and not bright) discouraging and he decided to give up drink entirely for the rest of his life.
by Screwcap the Second
Busy as usual with his horse, general Sajagen sent little Akra with his calculation to the chief. Besides the animals bearing military supplies and armament he would require 27 mules duly assigned to him to carry his beer. The beer came in kegs of 20 kg each. Roughly 200 of these would be accompanying him on his mission into Northern China. The journey would take up to a year. The reply came back from the Mogul that 25 were too many and he would allow only 10. Irate, Sajagen overloaded 11 mules with 15 kegs each and departed, dispirited. He decided early on to begin to purchase his beer en route, to save the supply he was carrying for a time when traveling in enemy territory would make supply-buying difficult. Each keg hung in a bag of goat skin, amply designed to except mule dung.. The dung, named Dhdn in Mongolese,, imparted a fresh and wholesome flavour to the beer after being in it’s vicinity for a few weeks. The rest of the soldiers had to supply themselves by stealing, or buying if they had the coin to do so. It was Akra’s job to pick up each fresh mule turd as they journeyed and to pack it carefully with the others around the leather bags. If the young lad missed a dropping, Sajagen quickly reprimanded him.
“Here, you useless little horse turd! you are purposely leaving behind pieces of mule excrement to irritate me! Now, get on with you. Go pick that up or I’ll have your gizzard served alongsider my beer at tomorrow’s breakfast!” The boy always obeyed quickly when his general noticed relapse in him.
When they returned to their home city on the steps a year and a month later, Sajagen had forsworn beer altogether. Not a month into his journey, the entire mule train fell into a ravine and not a keg survived. He sent men down in a great hurry to scoop up all the beer they could in containers of whatever sort they happened to have to hand, but sadly it had all mixed with the mule feces and become almost unpalatable. Sajagen did try valiantly for a few weeks to imbibe the mixture but, despite almost heroic efforts, he eventually found the foulness of taste and the general muddiness f colour (now no longer amber and not bright) discouraging and he decided to give up drink entirely for the rest of his life.
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