
Drink with friends and clink glasses: everyone's buff lasts longer.

About one village in three has a tavern, with a barrel cellar under the bar and full casks to tap.

Grapes climb their trellises, ready to pick.

Hops climb the trellis rows: the makings of a good ale.

Barley grows on farmland, just like wheat.

The kettle over a campfire, the brew waiting under the lid.

Casks racked three high. The airlock bubbles while a batch ferments, and a wax seal marks an aged one.

Tap a serving straight into a glass or a mug.

Set your drinks down, up to four on a block. Aged ones shimmer.

A few drinks in, the world starts to sway.

One too many, and you wake up... somewhere.

A Coq au Vin feast on the table, grapes climbing the trellised pergola.

