Now, children, this is an old family legend. It is a tale of our heritage, and one that none beyond our line would believe as anything more than a flight of fancy... a yarn spun by the older generations to entertain the children of the family. But I promise you that it is quite true and that we have the blood of heroes running in our veins.

Long ago, during the time that the English and the Scotts battled for rule of our homeland, our ancestor, Bran, battled on the side of Bonnie Prince Charlie. He was a fierce presence on the battlefield, cutting swathes of destruction through the enemies with his great claymore. They say he had the battle frenzy of the old Norse berserkers, and that even his allies knew to give him a wide berth during a battle.

But, despite his might in battle, one man could not singlehandedly turn the tide in the war with the English, and in April of the year of our Lord 1746, even his prowess could not win the fateful battle of Culloden. Much like Charlie, he was forced to flee Scotland or face the axe of the victorious English. But, where Charlie fled to France, and then on to Rome, Bran set off to the West.

He made his way to the Caribbean, where he fell to drink. One night, the captain of a ship saved his life from a fight that had started because of his drinking. Out of gratitude, he swore an oath to protect her. It didn't bother him that the ship that he had signed on with was a pirate ship. He was an outlaw, already, and destined for a short drop and a sudden stop if the authorities ever got ahold of him whatever he did. So, it was no worse for him to be sailing under a corsair's flag than it was for him to wear the tartan that he refused to give up.

He had many adventures with his captain and her motley crew, but it was not until they were in the old Inca lands that their greatest adventure took place. They came upon a lost remnant of the ancient empire, where the last remaining Incan emperor was living. They had held out quite well against the Spanish, having used ancient magics of their own to stave off the ravages of the plagues that the Spanish brought, and to turn the Spanish might to feebleness on the field. They told tales of Spanish powder exploding suddenly and without warning as they faced this last bastion of the Inca, from the kegs they carried with their supplies, down to the pouches that the soldiers carried to fire their shot.

However, it seems that this magic had drawn attention to them, in turn. But rather than from across the sea, the attention came from deep within the earth, itself. They told Bran and the crew of their magic users disappearing in the night one by one. What's more, they promised the crew great rewards if they could investigate the disappearances, as their resources were needed to keep the Spanish at bay... and it seemed as though their magic was every bit the liability that the Spanish's powder had been for them.

The crew agreed, and a band of them were chosen to venture down into the caves under the city to seek out the stollen Incans while the remainder of the crew returned to the ship at the coast, to ensure that it remained safe and ready to continue on their voyages once the captain returned.

The journey beneath the city was perilous, drawing the band through challenge after challenge while experiencing wonders and mysteries the likes of which none had ever heard of. They were faced by evil, grey dwarves, fierce predators, and in time, they found their way blocked by a city populated by twisted fish-like people, who worshiped a great idol in the depths.

They were forced to figure out how to push past this barrier, cutting into the city with lightning strikes designed to weaken their defenses before they were finally ready to deal the final blow to the city, pushing through so that they could continue their journey.

It seemed as though the Inca had been passed deeper and deeper into the depths, being taken miles beneath the surface for some dark purpose. None among the crew were truly faring well with the journey, but Bran was particularly irritable, being so involuntarily separated from the drink that he had fallen victim to. But, after some time, they came across a city of friendly beings. Tall and slender, with pointed ears and stone-gray skin.

They welcomed the band in and fed them well, and Bran was more than delighted to find that they had knowledge of brewing, even in these depths. Unsurprisingly, when they departed that city to continue with their journey, joined by one of the residents to aid in their mission, Bran took the opportunity to stock himself well with their strange wine, putting him in a far fairer temper through much of the remaining journey.

In the end, they reached their final destination... the place where the Inca were being taken. None of them could quite believe what they saw... it was a cavern that had to have been miles from one side to the other, with what they could only describe as a great, sunless sea filling much of it. In the center of this sea, there was a gleaming city, with tall, twisted spires rising from it. No human hand could have been responsible for this place.

Rather than rush in and find an ignominious defeat as they charged such a mighty city unprepared, they decided to investigate around the edge of the cavern first, to see if they could find anything or anyone who would be able to help them. As they searched, they came across a band of women in one of the side caverns. They were clearly warriors, and their leader said that they were there to slay an embassy of devils that had taken up residence in the city. They agreed to work with the band when they were ready, coming up with a plan of sneaking into the city in order to complete their mission.

Still, one group of warriors was not enough for them to take on the city, and they continued their search. They found a strange waterway leading into the cavern, which took them back up to the surface, and as they came out of the cave, they were amazed to find their ship at anchor just a short way down the shore. The captain quickly took charge and had the crew bring the ship down the waterway carefully, planning to use it in order to assault the city when the time finally came, knowing that their cannons would be quite helpful to their efforts.

Even then, they wanted to finish their circuit of the cavern, and it was good that they did. They found several of the Incan magic users, including the Incan queen, who had managed to escape from their captors and hidden away from them. They readily agreed to help in the attack on the city.

Their next, and final find, was very curious indeed. And it was nearly a very costly one for the band. As they explored, they went into a side cave, where they suddenly encountered a group of tall, slender, robed creatures, which had sickly purple skin, and whose heads looked much like an octopus, with tentacles around where their mouth would be.

The band prepared for battle, drawing their guns and waiting for their captain's order to shoot, while the strange beings looked quite prepared to fight as well. Now, unlike the other pirates, Bran had never taken up the use of guns, having always kept his faithful claymore with him. His true, constant companion. As everyone readied for battle, he knew that he would be of little use during the initial volley, and the strange creatures were showing no interest in rushing into close battle. Bran had seen enough during the journey to suppose that this meant they had some form of magic that they could use from a distance.

He quickly calculated that he had, really, no chance of being of much use when the fight began. And, in a very good mood from their discovery of the Inca... and the reintroduction of alcohol to his diet, he drew one of the bottles of wine that he had taken from the city and held it out as he called out, “We come in peace!"

This declaration took... well, every one by surprise. The crew looked at him in shock... but remarkably... the creatures they were about to battle with looked at him in surprise as well. They seemed to speak among themselves for a moment before one of them stepped forward. “Very well. Let us talk," the creature said. Though, that wasn't entirely accurate. It was more that everyone heard those words in their minds, rather than coming from the creature's mouth.

This encounter proved to be... invaluable to their plans against the city. They learned much from these creatures, who called themselves Illithids. It turned out that their magic was of the mind, and they were well aware of the city in the lake. They told the band that the city was normally submerged beneath the water, being the home to a kind of intelligent fish, who also wielded magic of the mind. These... Aboleth had been arranging for the kidnap of the Incan magic users in order to siphon the magic energy out of them, which was a very fatal procedure, in order to create a tool that would allow them to extend the reach of their mental magic to the surface, allowing them access to much more prey.

These Illithids were not amused by these plans, as that would cut in on their own interests, and as such, they had a strong interest in putting a stop to these plans before they could be completed. As such, they agreed to join in the fight against the city when the time came.

Soon enough, the assembled forces, including a delegation of the stone elves from the friendly city, gathered to discuss the plans for the assault. However, when the Illithids saw the band of women, they were very visibly displeased and refused to work with them. Thankfully, this did not break the agreement with them, but after some discussion, it was agreed that the band would make an investigatory raid into the city with the women to scout the place out a bit, and to eliminate the devilish embassy.

Soon enough, the plans were made, and Bran went into the city with the women and his companions to see what could be done. They made it into the embassy without any incident, though not without difficulty, and true enough, the inhabitants of the foul building were literal devils from Hell. The battle was fierce, and the leader of the band of women charged the ambassador personally.

To the pirates' horror, she changed form as well, her legs fusing together and lengthening into a long, serpentine tail while four additional arms sprouted from her sides, each wielding a fearsome sword. Even her second in command changed, her body becoming... far fuller in figure, which gave even Bran a moment where it was hard to concentrate on the battle rather than her beauty, but thankfully his battle frenzy helped to clear his mind, even as the demonic seductress revealed her true form.

The fight did not last for overly long, though, with the humans' help aiding in tipping the balance between the sides, which would otherwise have been quite evenly matched, it appeared. When the battle was over, the pirates looked warily up at the demon leader, their expressions clearly asking “What happens now?"

The leader of the demons smiled down at them, chuckling and shaking her head, “Thank you for your help... and thank you for going with us first... good luck with the rest of your plans," she said before she and the other women vanished in gouts of fell flame. All but one of them, that was. She had been wielding a bow during the battle, and she smiled as she looked at the pirates.

“I... would like to stay here and help," she said. There was a short discussion among the pirates, but it was quickly decided that she was welcome to join them in their mission. When they returned to the main camp, they could see that a fine feast had been prepared for them all to enjoy ahead of the next day's true battle.

The demon who had remained, as it turned out, was named Janelle, and she was the daughter of a succubus. However, being only half-succubus, she didn't have her mother's penchant for stealing the souls of men. During the festivities ahead of the battle the next day, she actually found herself quite drawn to Bran, and as the evening went on, the two of them slipped away from the rest of the festivities in order to share in some festivities of their own in private.

The next day, all boarded the ship and sailed across the sunless sea to the Aboleth city. The cannons blew a hole in the walls surrounding the city, allowing the assembled army to pour into it and start the battle in earnest. The pirates fought valiantly, their guns eating into the enemy forces, while the Inca and the stone elves attacked with their magic. The Illithids, though, were a mighty force to be reckoned with, and Bran was very glad that he had managed to make friends of them, rather than enemies.

They were organized into small bands and deployed around the battle, sending volleys of their mental magic at some of the more problematic allies of the Aboleth, stunning them and pinning them in place while the pirates finished them off. For his part, Bran was a veritable whirlwind, cutting through the enemies, while Janelle had set herself to fight alongside him, staying back and firing her bow with deadly accuracy while he took the foe head-on.

The battle raged up the central tower, even though the Illithids refused to venture up there. Still, the core band of the pirates, with Janelle and their new stone elf ally (who it seems had become very close to the captain, herself) fought to the top of the tower, where the device the vile fish had been working on was. In the meanwhile, the crew down below were working on evacuating the remaining Incan magicians to the ship, helped by the queen's presence and command.

At the pinnacle, the crew was faced with the largest and foulest of the Aboleth, who was the last one guarding their precious magical contraption. The fight was not an easy one, but Bran was able to stun the enemy leader by cleaving the device in half, distracting him well enough for the captain to finish him off. As he died, though, the tower began to shake violently, and they had to rush to escape it before it collapsed around them.

When they made it to the bottom of it, though, they saw that the water was much higher now than it had been when they had gone up. “The city is sinking!" one of them exclaimed, and they rushed back to the ship, where the others were already on board. Thankfully, they even launched the boats, which rowed toward the triumphant warriors, helping them up onto them.

They returned to the campsite from the night before and said their goodbyes to their underground allies, who had helped them in the battle. The stone elves were quite cheerful and cordial about it, while the Illithids were much more... subduedly respectful about it. But, honestly, from creatures like them... that came across as high praise.

The crew took the ship back up to the surface with the rescued Inca, rather than leaving everyone to take the long trek back up through the cave system once more. Several of the crew members even shared that, while the captain and her select band had raided the tower, they had raided the treasure vaults of the city, and the hold was much fuller than when they had arrived down here. Their return to the city was a triumphant one, and the crew was welcomed with high honors.

During the grand festivities that followed, the captain could see that Bran was troubled. She made her way over to him, patting him on the shoulder with a warm smile. “What's got you down? We've done it."

Bran looked up from his beer at the captain, taking a deep breath, “Aye, Cap'n. We certainly have," he said as he looked toward Janelle, who was off to one side dancing merrily. There was a look of longing in his eyes that the captain saw and understood.

“Mmm... but... a pirate ship isn't a good place for a family," she said with a little laugh.

Bran looked back at her startled, his eyes wide as he was trying to process what she was talking about, but after a moment, he realized just how doe-eyed he'd been with Janelle since the night before the battle. “Aye, Cap'n, but my oath-"

“Is fulfilled," she said firmly, cutting him off. “If you hadn't done that... insane thing with the Illithids and gotten us to talk with them, rather than fight them like we were all getting ready to do, I'd be dead now. Either the Illithids would have killed me in that fight, or I'd have died in the city without their support." She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. “It was crazy... and... honestly, pretty stupid... but it worked, and a lot more of us survived because of it than would have if you hadn't. At this point, I owe you my life... and the lives of everyone in the crew."

He gave her a lopsided smile at that, bowing his head to her. “Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask an oath of you," he said, looking out over the festivities. “I'm thinking of making a home here. There's not a lot of safe harbor for me elsewhere," he said with a heavy sigh. “Though, I might ask you a favor, rather than an oath," he added with a smirk, “Before I properly settle in here, I'm going to need to travel a little and learn a bit about brewing and distilling. These Inca are fine people, but they have no idea how to make decent alcohol. If I'm going to be living here with them, I'm going to have to learn a thing or two about making my own."

They shared a good laugh, and with a handshake, it was agreed. “Besides, with what we got from the city, and the reward we're getting here, we could honestly hold off on piracy for a pretty good while," she said with a chuckle, “Go honest for a while, at least. Until the loot runs dry," she said with a smirk.

A while later, after arrangements had been made with the Inca, the crew set off once more, putting up their black flag and sails for the time being, travelling around the world to learn the ways of brewing, winemaking, and distilling, helping Bran collect the equipment, knowledge, and seeds that he would need in order to fulfil his dream. After a few years, he returned to the Incan city with his wife, finding that they had finally broken the Spanish efforts to take their territory, and had even claimed a good area around themselves, re-establishing quite a bit of farmland, and a clear route down to the ocean, with a good harbor.

Bran worked with the Inca to get the crops that he would need planted, and set to work getting his brewing operations underway while the crew sailed off to try their hand at honest commerce while much of their wealth was in safe keeping in a vault in Bran's home. And there much of it stayed, because the captain wound up being a very good businesswoman, even if she was often called quite cutthroat. If they only knew...

Still, before long, she had another asset to add to her success as an honest trader. As it turned out, Bran had quite an aptitude for alcohol production, and whether it was the Andean climate, or simply the care that he put into his product, the barrels that he provided to the crew for trade quickly grew to be in very high demand by their customers. Bran was quite surprised by this, but Janelle wasn't. She'd understood just what quality of product he had to offer, which was why she'd seen to it that several barrels had made it down to the coast for trade.

Bran wasn't one to deny those who wanted his product, though, and it wasn't long before the Inca were increasing the cultivated land at his disposal and helping him to build larger facilities. The crew may have also helped bring metallurgical experts to the Inca, allowing them to help in producing more new stills for Bran to use, along with freeing him up from relying on earthenware vessels or imported barrels.

Soon enough, Bran began to garner global renown for his alcohol, causing more and more countries to officially recognize the Incan remnant's claim on their land. Bran even officially received a royal pardon from England for his part in the Jacobite uprising. They'd honestly had very little choice, because too many of their citizens were demanding his products, the aristocracy in particular. So, they issued the pardon, allowing him to more freely trade with the United Kingdom.

Spain, though, began to become a bit of an international laughing stock as the years went on. Their systematic destruction of the native peoples of South America, and their determined, if futile, efforts over the years to conquer the remainder of the Incan lands, which had now become something of an international treasure due to the products they were now producing from their own ingenuity and skill, and that Bran provided to the world from his stills, which were now almost all Inca-made. In fact, other countries had started buying stills and other brewing equipment from the Inca, tapping into the advancements they had made into the craft with Bran's help.

As the years went on, Bran's skill steadily improved, constantly seeking out new resources to tap into, many of which came from the Amazon rainforest and the East Indies, bringing many new, exotic tastes to the European pallet. Over the years, he became a storyteller and writer, his tales a mix of adventures he'd been on, and new stories to amaze the readers around the world. We have quite a fine collection of first-edition copies of his books, in fact, which we take very good care of.

Still, while Janelle remained young, as was to be expected, given her parentage, Bran grew old. He never lost his strength or drive, though. Still, Janelle knew what would come before long. Other half-children of her kind had shared their own stories of romances with mortals, frequently told as cautionary tales. But Janelle had been young and brash when she had fallen for Bran, deciding that she could do better than what those tales promised. Even so, though, there was no regret in her, and no resentment of Bran for his mortality. She was just grateful for the memories that they had made together.

However, Bran's death came sooner than it would have from natural causes. Spain had truly suffered from the prosperity of the Incan Remnant, as it had come to be known as, and the Spanish were not the kind of people to take such matters lightly. Spain gathered up a great army, which they crossed the Andes with, descending on the Incan lands from over the mountains.

Thankfully, the Incan mages and military had recovered from the Aboleth efforts to consume them, and they were able to mount a vigorous defense against the Spanish army. However, the main battle was a ploy all along. They were there to draw the attention away from the capital, where a smaller force snuck in, with plans to capture or assassinate the Incan leader. So much of the army had been sent to the main battle, leaving a fairly small contingent to defend the capital, though. But Bran, who's warrior days had long passed, was still in the city, helping to advise the King (they had stepped back from calling themself an Emperor, given the reduction of their territory).

When the alert sounded, he quickly sprung into action, organizing the defenders to fight back against the Spanish as they made their way up to the city. Before long, though, it was clear that they would make it to the gates of the city, and they would no longer be able to hold them back. With a deep breath, he looked out at the final approach to the gates and he knew what he needed to do. He kissed Janelle deeply, giving her one last farewell before he donned his armor and took up his claymore once more.

He had them open the gates for him to step out onto the stairs leading up to the palace, commanding them to not just bar them, but to pile stone up against them from the inside. He strode out onto the stairs, picking a narrow spot where he planted his sword point-down, staring at the approaching Spanish. As they neared, he cried out his challenge to them, hefting his sword, ready to fight to hold the stairs against them.

At this point, there were more than a hundred left, their numbers having been greatly diminished by the defenders leading up to this last stand. Still, seeing only this aged Scotsman between them and their objective, the remaining Spaniards sneered at the challenge, and they began to charge up the stairs. They had not expected how strong he still was, and by the time he'd cleaved the leading men in half with one swing, it was too late.

With the defenders on the palace walls, led by Janelle with her bow, they aided Bran in holding the onslaught back. At no point during the battle, though, was his sword still, having become a continuous blur of motion as he butchered his way through the attackers. The last man, the commander, he ran through, his sword driving straight through his breastplate as Bran came right up to him, staring the man in the eye as he snarled. The light faded from the commander's eyes, and Bran drew his sword back out of him before kicking his body off of the side of the stairs, leaving it to tumble down the mountain.

He'd not gone through the battle unscathed, though, and was bleeding from several places. His breathing was heavy and labored, and he staggered after a moment, dropping to his knees on the landing that he had chosen as his place to defend. The stairs below were stained a deep red with the blood of the Spanish, but not a single step past him even had a drop of blood on them. As he fell to his knees, he planted his blade in the stone of the landing, the tip driving deep into the stone as he leaned heavily against it. His vision was going, but he still registered the sound of Janelle landing as she quickly rappelled down the wall by the gate.

He rested his forehead against the cross guard of his sword as he struggled to breathe. He was still alive as he felt Janelle's hand on his shoulder. But, with that touch, he passed.

But, children, this is not where the story ends. A great hero's story is rarely as simple as that. Bran was not taken to Heaven, or claimed by Hell. The place that he went was strange and chaotic, and as he was tossed around, he found himself in a room, where a man was sitting in an arm chair. No. Not a man. A god. The god offered Bran a seat and a mug of beer, which Bran gratefully took. This was odd for Bran, though. He was no longer old... but rather, it was as though he was in his prime once more.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Bran Morgan. I've been paying attention to you for some time now with great interest," he said, taking a sip from his glass of wine.

Bran raised an eyebrow, looking at this god a little warily. Still, he took a sip from his own mug, and he couldn't help but smile. It was from one of the batches of beer that he'd been most proud of. “Mmm. I see that. Following me well enough to have my product. I knew it was good, but I didn't realize it was good enough for gods," he said with a little laugh.

The god laughed and smile, gesturing at Bran, “You see, this is what I like about you. Quick witted. Sharp. Most importantly, not easily intimidated. I admire your bravery. That last stand? Oh, it will be the stuff of legends for centuries to come. They've already set to work building a shrine of sorts around your sword where you'd buried it in the stone. In stone..." he said, sounding so amazed by that, “And at your age... mmh. They're even permanently staining the stairs below your landing red as a reminder of where they were stopped."

Bran looked somewhat bemused by that, “Really?" He chuckled and shook his head, “A little grandiose... but I suppose I can respect it. I take it that the main army won the day?"

“Oh, quite so. The Spanish didn't stand a chance. They're even having to cede territory to the Inca for this attack. They might even be able to start calling themselves an empire again... but I think that even they've been humbled to a good degree, so I don't think they will. In any event, how could I have forgotten to introduce myself? I am Olidamara. God of Wine, Stories, and Song. Though... more often than not, I seem to serve as the god of thieves... not that it really bothers me, though," he said with a laugh, “Their trickery and cleverness entertains me, and makes for some very good stories. Much as your stories have been very entertaining for me as well. Both the ones that are true and the ones that you've made up over the years, I've enjoyed them all."

Bran chuckled and took a deep drink from his cup. “Mmm... so... you came into the winds that were tossing me about to... thank me and finally get to meet me?"

“Well, yes. That, but also to make a deal with you. You really are too much fun to lose out in the mortal realm. So, I've got an offer for you. Work for me. Go back to Earth, and continue to make interesting things happen. Heck, I'm sure that your family would happily keep it as a closely guarded secret that you are still the brewmaster," he said with a chuckle and a grin.

Bran blinked, lowering his mug as he looked across at Olidamara. “You're... joking right?"

Olidamara laughed and smirked, “I often do, but this one isn't a joke. Or if it is, it's a joke directed at Earth, not you. I mean it. It's not all that unreasonable... or even that uncommon. Most divine servitors just tend not to get noticed too often. Doesn't serve their purpose. Still, if you leave rumors in your wake, that would serve my purpose in sending you back... become a figure of folk-tale and legend... that works rather nicely when it comes to your skill set."

Bran considered for a moment longer, weighing it over in his mind. “I mean..." he said, trailing off for a moment as he took another nice drink from the beer, “You make a good point. And I'd get to be with Janelle again," he said with a lopsided smile, gazing off into the distance.

“Wonderful. I'll make the necessary arrangements to return you to Earth as my divine servitor. In the meanwhile, please enjoy my home, and don't go on any walks. It was tricky enough to find you out in the winds, and I really don't want to do that again."

Bran laughed and nodded his head. “Understood."

From there, it was a few days before all of the arrangements had been made. At least, from the perspective of Earth. For Bran, it was just a very long lovely afternoon. As he reappeared on Earth, it was on a hill, overlooking... his own funeral service. Huh... that was... disorienting. Still, it seemed as though he'd returned here right as they were finishing sealing his coffin in. That made a kind of sense to him.

He was happy to see that many of his surviving old crewmates were there at the funeral. Even the captain and her wife were there. It brought a smile to his face. Less heartwarming was the devastation that was plain on Janelle's face. That broke his heart to see, even if he knew that he would be back with her again soon. He decided not to crash the funeral. That... could leave several people having heart attacks. Instead, he decided to find a nice spot to wait near his home

He found that he could go... transparent, and was able to pass through solid objects to a large degree. He put that to good use as he waited near his home. He got to watch his closest friends come back to the house for a wake, taking the time to celebrate his life. Still, he waited, though. He waited until it was just the captain, her wife, and Janelle there in the sitting room before he approached them.

Janelle had calmed considerably from the funeral itself. It seemed that the celebration of Bran's life had done her a lot of good, and right now, she was just enjoying the comfort of being with their two closest friends. He smiled and shook his head, chuckling softly. Janelle seemed to perk up at that a little bit, having heard him, even if the other two hadn't. He let out a soft sigh and came over to sit down in his armchair, sighing at the familiar, comfortable feel of it as he let himself become visible again.

“It's not going to be quite the same without him," the captain said.

“No, it isn't," Janelle said, sighing and just closing her eyes. “Back where I was from, others of my kind always told stories... warning us not to fall in love with mortals, essentially. Telling us not to make the mistake of developing any attachments. I know they meant well... and I wasn't trying to be defiant... I just... couldn't help but fall for the fool, you know? The happiest ending that any of them had to offer was when the person they loved wound up in the abyss with them," she said with a wry smile as she opened her eyes and looked at the other two.

Bran chuckled at that and said, “Oh, I can think of at least one happier ending than that."

The other three froze for a moment before their heads snapped around to stare at him. The captain and her mate were just at a complete loss, but Janelle's eyes lit up with fire. “What... you..." she rose up and strode over to stand right in front of him, glaring right into his eyes. “Explain. Now."

He laughed and held up his hands, smiling as he shook his head. “I wound up somewhere called Pandemonium. I was getting thrown around in the wind like a leaf, and then a god snatched me up to have a conversation. Fun guy. Calls himself Olidamara. He had been enjoying what I'd been doing on Earth, and so now... I work for him. Back here on Earth."

Her lips were pursed as she stared down at him, taking a moment to process his story before she let out a huff and sat down in his lap. “Okay. That is a happier ending than anything the others had to share," she said not really wanting to let her emotions out right now, not with their friends right there.

The captain blinked and looked at her wife before she gave the two a smile. “You know, it's getting pretty late. We'll catch up with you guys tomorrow?" She chuckled and shook her head as the two left the room.

Janelle waited for a while longer, knowing they would leave the estate completely and head back to their inn. She gave them time to be well clear of the house before she let out a loud, “Argh! You idiot! You... stupid, stupid man! You knew you were too old to fight, and you went and did it anyway... and... and you died! You had no idea if you'd ever come back, and you went and threw away the years we had left!"

Bran let her get that frustration out of her system before he smiled up at her and brought his hand up to hold her cheek. “You're right. I chose my time to die. I chose to give my life protecting the people who have done so well by me for... so many years now. And no, I had no idea that coming back was even a possibility. But I couldn't have lived with myself if I hadn't done something. And besides... we both know that I'd started struggling very badly with my years," he said, his eyes full of love and pain.

“You'd have had years with me... only they would have been years watching me fade away. It would have eaten you alive long before I passed... and I know that it had started weighing on your mind." His smile shifted into a lopsided grin, “And this way... we got to have one last battle together before I died. But now... you don't have to worry about losing me. We can be together from now on... making lovely messes all around the world and getting to really live... rather than struggle through years of slowly dying."

She frowned intensely at him before she lunged forward and kissed him full on the lips, her fingers moving to grip his hair so that he wouldn't have been able to escape... not that he would have wanted to. Her kiss was every bit as fiery as his whisky and infinitely sweeter to him. He returned the kiss with a will, holding it until she broke it. “And I see that you're back in your prime again. Think that's some kind of favor to me?"

Bran laughed and grinned, shaking his head as he reached his hand up to brush through her hair. “Mmm... Olidamara called it a 'fringe benefit'... whatever that is. But either way. I'm looking forward to continuing to live with you."

From that day on, Bran has continued to watch over his family. Generation after generation. Seeing the rich lives that they all led with one another. He didn't quite return to his position as brewmaster, even in secret. Still, he did share new discoveries with his family business and made sure that they were keeping up on the quality.

He's even made sure to keep tabs on the branches of the family that didn't stay with the distillery, like ours. But we stay true to his other passion. The sea. We may not ever get to sail the great sunless sea the way that he did back on his grand adventure, but the ocean is ours by inheritance from Bran. When we sail, we sail with him watching over us, knowing that he is still in the world, continuing his great work of keeping interesting things happening for Olidamara.