Random Brew Generator: Poisoned Grog

If you're anything like me, you're of legal age and you enjoy a nice brew while you unwind with video games. My experience with drinking while playing games has ranged from a pleasant, unfazed focus to intense and uncoordinated debauchery.

But I find that when I hit the right mix, something exceptional bubbles up.

My method is simple. One beer is for taste, and the next for a playthrough of whatever video game I think goes best with it. So, while the setup is predictable, the experience is anything but. It's random, generated by 1s and 0s, mediated through my ever-suffering skillset.

Fullsteam’s Rocket Science and Middle Earth: Shadow of War

Full steam ahead into the fantasy realm.

The Taste

I sit outside on my porch, which is at the moment completely covered in the sticky yellow of suffocating pollen. Cool winds ferry some char from a grill and some floralessence (eh? anyone?) from blossoms and a teensy bit of sweat from my body. The rampant birdsong complements the ambient late afternoon light, but I sit in the shade. 

This beer is from Fullsteam, a brewery I’ve never been to, and this Rocket Science is the only beer I’ve had from them. I love the name though. It implies that there is nothing more simple than drinking this drink.

When I open the can, I immediately note a crisp, woodsy scent. This time, my container of choice is a classic, glass pint glass. Yeah, I see the repetition there, but pints can be plastic. Before I realize, I fill it a bit more than I intend, the years of practicing imbibement biting me in the ass. The bubbles swirl from the bottom like a whirlpool, piling on the surface in an excellent head formation, exactly the right length and thickness. It forms a foamy layer that seems barely permeable, aside from the large bubbles that occasionally pop through its surface. I do detect a not-citrus-but-not-musk scent that reminds me most of cat piss. Must be that cilantro my wife can’t stand. I sniff more and find a lot of the crisp west coast hops curling around the back of my tongue, subtle, not too sharp or bitter. It settles to a bit of citrus and wetness and a touch of bitterness. I can also smell my own saliva. You’re welcome.

The color is transparent and light and a pretty gold/orange-yellow. Bubbles rise from several points on the bottom in small trails, which I’m always happy to see. This type of carbonation is my favorite in general. The foam leaves a slight lacing, and it settles slowly, crawling down the glass by the grace of all the bubbles coalescing on its underside. 

I can feel the thick rim with the bottom of my tongue. It deposits the liquid clumsily into my mouth. There’s no initial taste, but then, I note a grainy, light sweetness that’s accentuated by the bitter hops. There’s no real citrus; I’m not entirely sure what it was that I was picking up in the aromatics. But the drink is cool and leaves a crisp woodsy aftertaste like pine needles or rosemary. The somewhat syrupy sweetness envelops my tongue. 

When I swallow now, it’s peak bitter. It feels like there’s a hop nugget sitting on the back of my tongue just emitting cold there. The slight alcohol burn in my throat feels lovely for its intersection with the cool bitterness. I really like it. It’s relaxing, it’s zen. I hear birdsong and feel like I’m being carried in the wind. Bitterness builds over time. There’s minimal flavor in my retronasal smell, but that nugget builds on my tongue when I exhale. It’s like dragonfire. IPAs are supposed to be served under 45 degrees, but, this is all an experiment so I warm it in my hands. The crispness immediately falls flat and becomes less noticeable, and the flavor erodes into a less potent mixture. I’ve completely undermined it. The sweet residue is whisked away but that bitter, which I now identify as a raw cacao nut bitter, stays behind. 

And honestly, it’s still refreshing.

The Activity

Middle Earth: Shadow of War builds on the framework that Assassin’s Creed created, as far too many games do. You run around, parkour up buildings, and look out on the parapet of the tallest tower while the hawk circles you and your map fills in. 

The game centers around an Aragorn stand-in named Talion. He, like Aragorn, is a ranger, but unlike Aragorn, he died with his family but has been resurrected due to the ghostly elf Celebrimbor. Without diving too much into the deep lore, Celebrimbor was the one who helped Sauron make the One Ring, and at this point in the narrative, he has made another One Ring and is directly challenging the Dark Lord as the Bright Lord. 

Where the game really shines is in its Nemesis system. As you fight the leaders of the orc army, Talion can choose what to do to them and directly participate in the orc hierarchy, which is built on bloodshed, subterfuge, and sometimes friendship. Some chieftains earn their position by killing a rival or a Talion at some point. Some work their way up by performing dark deeds for the Dark Lord. And some are just randomly generated in their appointed roles of authority. Lucky bastards. Hey, aren’t these the words Galadriel says to Frodo when she’s pouring her mirror?

But Talion can assassinate famous leaders. He can shame captains and lower their status in the eyes of their compatriots. He can convince them to join the army of the Bright Lord as he lays  siege to Mordor. And so on, and so on. 

I will note that the question arises if Talion/Celebrimbor are really better than Sauron. I mean, it’s not like they convince the orcs to join them with reason and logic™. Their methods of convincing are brute force and mental coercion. Isn’t that… evil? Or is it good because now they’re fighting Sauron? Or do orcs have no capacity to be good on their own?  

The point is that Talion can make or break an orc’s status in a single second. It’s one of the most interesting and interactive mechanics I’ve ever seen in an open world action game. Your direct actions create a narrative around the gameplay. You’ll remember the guy you accidentally kicked off a roof and thought he was dead until he came back with a robot arm, or you’ll weep when your beloved bodyguard perishes to some random orc who then is promoted to captain.

When I talk with my friends about the Middle Earth: Shadow of series, we invariably hit one specific point: why did such a terrible game producer have to copyright an excellent mechanic only to never use it in anything else ever again? The answer is likely simple: people will keep returning to Shadow of War because it is the definitive Nemesis system sandbox. But maybe there’s a nemesis stronger than WB’s game studio that’s keeping the thing behind bars until it finishes serving an ambiguous sentence for uncertain crimes. 

The Experience

On the loading screen, Shelob, the once-spider-now-woman, warbles through my ears about some mystical shit. It’s a questionable choice to recast the child of Ungoliant, the consumer of the light of the two trees of Valinor, as Liv Tyler. To me, it seems to denote a marketing ploy to target a specific audience rather than an attempt to reconcile deep lore with better storytelling. But, what do I know? Maybe it’s a good enough reason for someone to do something just because they can. 

And now I’m Aragorn again. Talion, fuck. Ah, whatever. The Ranger stands atop a tower, staring at some sort of Skara Brae isle in the distance. I’m so early in the game that I haven’t even unlocked other areas yet, but I still feel wistful looking in the distance, filled with a longing to travel to the places that I can see, even though I know they are just a part of the skybox. 

In the old Shakespearean adage, to jump in or to learn to play, that is the question: whether ‘tis nobler to be piss poor at three dimensional mechanics or to painstakingly learn and relearn new controls. 

In this moment, it doesn’t matter because my mouse takes over and I can’t figure out how to reconnect it to my controller so I have to restart the game. I use a generic, general, 2001-evoking Xbox controller for these games just because I’ve always been a fan. Look, I know there are better controllers with haptic feedback, with shortkeys, with three joysticks instead of two. But there’s something really comfortable about it. Something comforting. It’s simple. It’s reliable. It’s nostalgic. 

The first sip of beer is somewhat bitter, just like me. I’m not gonna say that it was the cat pee/cilantro effect that reminded me of this bitterness but damn it did. I don’t detect any sweetness yet, just crispness with a blurry ambience. (author’s note: no, I don’t remember what that means either)

A couple of orcs take spirit arrows to their heads just so Celebrimbor can prove that he still knows how to nock an arrow. Then, the man-elf hides out for a minute before he/they remember how to sneak. There must be some bad side effects to being a human possessed by an ancient elf, because everything is super blurry. As far as anyone knows, Mordor never raised no optometrist because the Dark Lord has 20/20 vision and could see any eagles that flew in with the Ring to destroy it, thus compromising the whole scheme because  not only was the Ring seeking him with a powerful and terrible will of its own that literally only four people resisted, Sauron was still insanely powerful even without the Ring and could have just magicked them down. 

Anyways. Let’s check out the army. At any point in this game, you can pause to check on who is on your team, who isn’t, and who is dead and how they relate to one another and what they’re good at and what they’re scared of. It’s a goddamned war orc beauty pageant that only showcases the best of the best, the cream of the crop. I have trouble remembering any if not all of them.

That’s a lot of orcs using fire. Apparently they sure do love fire. As for facial recognition, I don’t remember many of them. It looks like Talion recently went on a slaughtering spree, assassinating or coercing them to join his squad and pony up at his castle. His camp? Where does this dude live when he’s not on a tower hanging with his 3000 year old ghost bud? 

But out of all of them, Ar-Benu is the most familiar. The big dude feels more friendly. I couldn’t tell you why. When I look at him, I see the face of a friend. Something about the brain sticking out of his skull, I imagine. 

Beside him, Maku the rat lord lies dead. I pour one out for him. It doesn’t leave much of an imprint on me because I notice that Ar-Hissu the Gorger seems cool af. I notice he’s not one of mine, so I decide that he looks like the perfect target for a hunt. He’s even wearing a crown! The audacity! This fucker needs to be dropped down a peg.

This is the benefit of these games. I am the Regina George of Mordor. Most of the orcs are worthless scum not worthy of my time or their lives. Those who have made a name for themself are direct competitors for my title of Baddest Bitch In The Land. They will either die, or they will serve me. There is no in between. 

The hops prove to be much more prevalent than they were before. I know I’m playing with obvious external influence and a sort of faux synesthesia, but I am tempted to say it’s groglike, especially with the acidity I can detect now. 

Talion watches as some orcs take down a wild warg. The poor creature is quickly broken and slain. When the orcs disperse, Talion is lucky, because even though he is rusty at being a Ranger, he just remembered how to sneak. All he needs to know is how to plunge his dagger in the backs of orcs meandering away from the pack, down dark alleyways, wallets out, son escorted beside them after overstimulation at an opera. 

Sorry, wrong Assassin’s Creed-like WB game. 

Can I vent for a second? I’ll admit, this complaint is likely due to my own incompetence, but this game is utterly incomprehensible. I’m clunky and slow and can’t see shit and can’t remember how to move. Fuck me. Maybe changing shit will change it. That’s the nice thing about using a computer. I can’t change my shitty gameplay, but I’m accepting what I can’t control by making the most of what I can, which are the graphics. I crank everything up to what I think my computer best runs at.

It doesn’t make much of a difference. 

Mordor comes back into focus like a foggy morning, and Talion comes back to his senses. He’s on the run from thousands of orcs who jeer and catcall and caterwaul as they charge behind him, screaming things like “It’s a bloody Tark!” which Talion knows is some sort of slur but can’t remember exactly why or what it signifies. 

With what can only be described as a springy spirit power, the Ranger finally backflips his way into a bush where he hides out and waits for the mob to pass. Works like a charm every time. There must be something in these bushes that repels orcs, like anemone repels clownfish. Or wait, does anemone attract clownfish?

Talion reaches the designated starting point of his mission. He remembers that he can see into the spirit world, so he takes a good long look around at all the vibes surrounding him and realizes that it’s just shit that’s nearby. Couple of orcs haphazardly escorting wargs. Some bushes, some trees, a stone edifice surrounding a fort. Nothing.

Each hunt of the elite orcs calls for a unique strategy to bring them down. The missive for Al-Hissu is to poison the grog served at his birthday party. So THIS is what he gorges himself on. Is this perfect or what? I wonder if he writes blogs to justify his bad habits too. 

As Aragorn prepares his poison, I take a swig. I don’t get much taste on this one, but the nugget returns to my tongue. It feels nice; it’s a good bite. I feel woozy from poison already. 

Talion perches on a parapet. Time to play a game of cat and mouse. He ascends the wall of the fortress, and after a couple of tries, Celebrimbor flips him backwards and crosseyes the sentry with an arrow before leaping back to the wall. Primo. 

Warmth fills my head. Yes, I love it, put the rocket science in there. 

Flips are easy as drinking. Could Celebrimbor enter some sort of elven Olympics? He’s a natural. The orcs ask where the grog went. They’re partying, hammered, laughing. I hear the line “meat’s on the menu.’ I came out here to make war. 

The tower’s clear, and now it’s time to figure out a strategy to sneak down to the party floor. The key for this thing is to remain incognito, to go unseen. Talion hops across rooftops and carefully avoids the eyes of sentries. 

Talion swivels around, feeling something, a malicious presence. Behind him, appearing all of the sudden, the grotesque Bolg the Diseased cackles. He claims that Talion has been looking for him, which is pretty bold because Talion can’t for his life remember even thinking of this dude. Bolg whips out a spear and starts flailing it around. Talion retaliates with his flaming sword and a hammer. That the sword can catch fire is such a fucking badass perk. Talion revels in its coolness. The two exchange blows for a while. 

Thing is, though, Bolg has been aflame for quite some time. Talion goes on a sick combo and the orc is beaten down enough for Celebrimbor the Bright Lord to possess his mind. But the elf thinks about it and decides against sparing his life. No interference with the mission. Burn this guy alive. So, he does. It’s a good thing that pusboy is dead. He was so gross. So so so gross.

After such a rousing fight, Talion fears he’s been compromised. After a series of intricate leaps and backflips, he finally finds a place to hide… but the party has literally not stopped. The orcs are still jamming out together. They practice archery and debate opportunism and predetermination. Sacks of meat hang from the rafters. Everyone’s hammered. No one has noticed anything.

Ok, now to the grog. 

Luckily Talion has just come into a great stock of boil pus. There are sentries everywhere, but Talion is a stealth master. He dives into the middle of a chattering group and poisons a grog barrel. Then, he realizes that he’s fully visible. It’s a dodge game as he flips between barriers. stuck on a wire but brutalize and scare them off for grog poison 2. 

They’re watching! They’re literally watching Talion sneak up and slip laxatives into their drink. Will any of these orcs be daft enough to drink this grog at this point? Why does it keep progressing the mission?  Isn’t the whole point defeated now?

Is the beer fruity now? Is that acidity tinged with fructose? I find it enjoyable. 

Talion ziplines the fuck out of the encampment and lands on an ancient toy ship. Like anyone at a flea market or a garage sale, he can hear the original owner of the item by touching it. In this case, it’s a young, Gondorian child. The kid wistfully recounts his days sailing over the seas east of Middle Earth, and he relates how much he wishes to return… 

Ohhh wait. Um, Talion must have some internal bias, because Celebrimbor clarifies that the owner of this toy was an elf. Whoops. Don’t know why Talion would just go in and assume the identity of someone just by their voice. But the Bright Lord follows up this revelation by blasting the ship. He calls it mid. Guess that kid’s fucked right off, then. 

Just one more fucking barrel of grog left. Just one more fistful of pus. I am so, so, so bad at this game. I think I can do it. I take the final swig for strength, to steel my nerves. It’s a hard thing to sit in a chair and entertain yourself. Not many people understand that. 

The perfect assassin poisons the last barrel and escapes before being noticed. A deep-voiced giant screams, “Who summons me?” And the crowd of orcs in the bleachers that are seemingly surrounding the fortress chant, “Ar-Hissu! Ar-Hissu! Ar-Hissu!” 

Talion does what he does best - he leaps clumsily from rooftop to rooftop. If you think that’s a bizarre paradoxical phrase, jumping clumsily from rooftop to rooftop, you’re absolutely right. But he manages to get the drop on the big bad, and the dude immediately catches fire. But there are so many fucking minions that Celebrimbor can’t get his hand up to dominate, so he yells and swings. Goddamn Talion’s flinging daggers, but the shield guy can’t be hit, so Talion is struck down by a random minion. Talion deflects at the last second and runs the fuck out of there screaming, pursued by the enraged and mortally wounded Ar-Hissu as he flings his scythe in a large circle like some sort of  alien trying to make signs in crops.

I settle on top of a roof to finish my drink. It’s gone quickly. Smooth as silk and half as smooth. Bubbly. Yummy.

“YUMMY!” belts Ar-Hissu as the determined Talion lands on the ground in front of him. “I do not think you’re a threat - a morsel - an interesting little tidbit. 

I respond with a real life yell. “And you’re a psychopath!” 

Celebrimbor yells, “Kneel before me!”

Donkey yells, “Donkey!” (kudos, Eddie Murphy)

And the orc is immediately brought to his knees. So much for an intimidating introduction. Celebrimbor indoctrinates him into the Bright army. He sends him home to recoup. He looks like a calm rhino from here as he flees, just a bulky dude who hit the gym a lot and got a sore taste in his mouth. I bet the grog was just to cure a severe case of scurvy. Some of the other orcs scramble away; some try to hunt the Tark. 

But I escape back to the real world. My job is done. The beer is done. Didn’t notice it.   

Conclusion

I don’t think this pairing is it, chief. It’s not bad, mind you, it’s just nothing. I found myself so wrapped in the gameplay that I feel like I barely tasted anything. That’s not a bad thing. But if the point of these things is to explore the highs and lows of inebriated gaming - if the point is to experience great emotion, from the depths of depravity to the heights of ecstasy - then my don’t recommends are nearly as powerful as my do recommends, and it is apathy that is the mind-killer. 

My gameplay was notably horrible here. Look, I’m interested enough to give myself a redemption shot at some point. It is really fun to be a sneaky boy who can piss off others so much that they try to assassinate him. In real life, I struggle so hard to slip by unnoticed, and every time I try to possess others with spiritual power, I just am made to look a fool. 

Recommendation

I enjoyed the experience, but I can't say that this pairing is a match made in heaven.