Archive Entry
o ma fellow sassenach,
If ye have come here seeking treasures then drop yer anchor, my secret will get ye minted.
Some mae see nothing here but a flooded city, but if ye are as familiar with the smoky smirr as I am, ye will recognize the water of Luk Khum is as pure as that of our motherland Lochs.
There might be no barley in those foreign lands but don’t feel scunnert, ye can still make a fine swally with water filtered by the ruins of a braw Kingdom.
Gather yer brew pot, sugar, molasses, and yeast. Make a wash fer a hefty rum, and let it ferment in a dark and sweaty corner. Do not haste, the final dram will only taste sweeter.
The carpenter Steven is an old mate, if ye part with a wee portion of the final nectar, he will add sumthin to make it taste like it’s aged in the finest oak fer years. Woodchips from trees that have dreamt of being booze. See, the man has a connection to ’em.
Distill, strain and enjoy. Mae the water of Luk Khum bring ye joy.
Rob Steamin’ MacClare.
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