Keith spent the night in a quiet corner of the Green Dragon Inn, but he didn't sleep. Instead, he cleared a space on a heavy oak table and set up his iron cauldron. With his newly unlocked Knowledge of Alcohol Bases, he began his first true distillation.
Using a cask of potent Hobbit cider and a handful of sugar, Keith monitored the heat. The system guided his senses, showing him the exact moment to draw off the spirit.
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[CRAFTING SUCCESSFUL: DWARVEN SPIRIT]
[+5 SYSTEM POINTS EARNED]
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The liquid was crystal clear and smelled strong enough to strip paint. This was the foundation he needed. Next, he opened his Spatial Pouch and retrieved the Drowner Brain, the Ranogrin he'd gathered, and a cluster of yellow Celandine flowers he'd spotted near the Hobbit-holes.
He began the delicate process of brewing Swallow. The brain provided the mutagenic catalyst, the Celandine acted as the primary healing agent, and the Dwarven Spirit bound it all together.
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[NEW FORMULA DISCOVERED: SWALLOW (BASIC)]
[+20 SYSTEM POINTS EARNED]
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The resulting liquid was a thick, unpleasant crimson that smelled of damp earth and ozone. Keith bottled it into three of his vials and headed to the local apothecary shop run by a stout Hobbit named Mr. Mylo.
"It's a regeneration tonic," Keith explained, setting the vials on the counter. "It will knit a deep gash in minutes. But listen to me carefully: it is toxic. If you drink more than a sip at a time, your heart will race and your veins will turn black. You must wait for the 'heaviness' in your blood to fade before taking more. Use it sparingly, or it will kill you faster than any wound."
Mr. Mylo looked at the swirling red liquid with a mix of awe and suspicion. "A regeneration tonic, you say? Very well, lad. I'll take them off your hands."
Within days, the 'Red Brew' became famous throughout Hobbiton. A gardener who had nearly lost a finger to a rusty shear drank a thimble-sized dose and watched the skin fuse back together before his eyes. Word spread like wildfire. The Hobbits agreed on one thing: it tasted absolutely disgusting—like drinking swamp water mixed with fire—but its effects were undeniable.
Keith watched from the shadows as his reputation grew. He had silver in his pockets and his first real potion in circulation. But as the "Red Brew" became the talk of the Shire, it wasn't just Hobbits who were listening.
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[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: FAME LEVEL INCREASED]
[SIGHTING REPORTED: A RANGER OF THE NORTH HAS ENTERED HOBBITON ASKING ABOUT THE 'BOY WITH THE RED POTIONS'.]
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Keith was sitting on a stone bench on the outskirts of Hobbiton, sharpening his twin cleavers, when a tall, hooded figure stepped out from the shadows of a large willow tree. The man moved with a grace that no Hobbit possessed—silent, predatory, yet noble.
"The 'Red Brew' is quite a marvel," the man said, his voice a low, gravelly baritone. "But I saw you in the woods, Keith Whitestone. I saw you kneeling over that creature. I saw you take its brain."
Keith's hand went to the hilt of his cleaver, but the man made no move for his own sword. The Ranger pushed back his hood, revealing the weather-beaten face of Aragorn.
"I am a Ranger of the North," he said calmly. "I have tracked these new 'monsters' across the wilderness. They are faster, stronger, and far more cunning than any Orc. My kin are struggling to hold the borders." He looked at the vials on Keith's belt. "I suspected your medicine was made from the very things that hunt us. It is a grim irony."
Keith relaxed slightly, sensing no hostility. "It's an art called Alchemy," Keith explained, his System-given knowledge flowing naturally. "Everything in nature has an essence—a substance. Even a monster's organ, when processed correctly, can be turned into something that benefits others. I'm turning the monsters into the very tools needed to destroy them."
Aragorn stepped closer, his eyes reflecting a deep curiosity. "Turning a monster to its own end... it is a pragmatic wisdom. These creatures are a plague upon the land, and if their own blood can be the cure, then your art is a blessing Middle-earth sorely needs."
Keith, sensing a potential ally in the dangerous road ahead, gestured to his cauldron. "I can teach you, Aragorn. I can show you how to extract the oils and balance the toxins. A Ranger with this knowledge would be unstoppable."
Aragorn looked at the bloody remains of a Drowner brain Keith was about to process and slowly shook his head, a small, weary smile touching his lips.
"I thank you, lad, and I support your craft with all my heart," Aragorn replied. "But I must refuse. I have spent my life as a healer and a tracker, yet I find I have no stomach for the 'wet-work' of your alchemy. Sifting through the entrails of such foul things is a burden I am not meant to carry." He gestured to the cleavers at Keith's side. "I will provide the protection and the tracking. You provide the fire and the glass."
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[QUEST COMPLETED: THE RANGER'S RECOGNITION]
[+50 SP EARNED]
[NEW ALLY: ARAGORN (STRIDER)]
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As the two sat by the fire, Aragorn shared news from the borders. A group of Ghouls had been spotted near the Barrow-downs, and they were guarding something that smelled of ancient magic and rot.