Tuesday Tussles, Dec 7
A Dozen-odd Unusual Yord-less Blends to Finish Your LoR Season With.
Choices are tough, and twice on Tuesday.
The Two Fighty Trolls is packed full. A huge, hectic crowd queues at the pub’s door, all zesty laughter as they wait to get a seat inside.
The Pilgrims Road sits lone and quiet across the street, neon sign throbbing stoical in the foggy night.
You crane your head left and right.
Betrayal, that pain that feels like it’ll eat you from the inside…
… but when the mind doubts, feet know where home is.
***
Jericho nods as you approach your stool.
“Busy Tuesday, chief?”
“I’d say busier than in here…” You glance around: the Pilgrims looks even emptier than from the outside. “But I’m afraid you’d take it as too callous a stab.”
He grabs his stainless-steel cocktail shaker, caresess its golden plaque with the Legna & Balco – Numeromancers inscription. “Wouldn’t fault you for going across the street and join the party at the TFT pub, chief. All the cool kids are.”
“Do I strike you as cool kid, Jericho?”
He smirks. “Well, minus the kid part, perhaps…”
You rap your knuckles twice against the bar. “Let’s get this evening rolling… but let’s make it a real challenge for you, Jericho.” You stare at the big Hammer Blue bottle at his back. “You can’t touch that bottle—”
His smirk widens.
“—in fact, I don’t wanna see a single Yordle in my glass tonight; let’s make this a Yord-less, Band-less evening, shall we—”
The steel shaker whirls impatiently, like a djinn eager accept a challenge.
“—so, let’s see…”
“… say I want to go for a quick Pre-Patch Push without feeling like a meta slave…”
“So, you want stuff that works, but rarely seen as of late, eh?”
“Yep.”
“No Yordles?”
“Not a whiff.”
***
“In that case, chief…” He pours from a flask of Salty Tears, adds a touch of pepper, mixes with Noxian red wine. “Gangplank Twisted Fate.”
“I think I said not a whiff—”
“C’mon, chief, you may not have a good nose, but don’t you have eyes? This is the original mix.”
“You mean the Noxian version?”
“Yep. Packs all the 55%-plus punch without a Yordle in sight. You’ll have a massive headache if you mix this with the Bandle version, mind you, and Darkness is not a good mix either. But you can have Poppy Ziggs and Poppy Zed for breakfast with this, so…”
You grin like a shark having smelled blood.
***
“But, if you want something I’m sure I haven’t poured for you before…” He grabs a bottle of Day After and mixes with Big Bucks. “Sometimes, when testing new blends, you just get dazzled by novelty, so you go Jayce Lux, Jayce Heimer, Jayce Ezreal, Shadow Jayce…” He pours from a flask of Desert Damsels, bubbling in desert-sand yellow. “And you kind of overlook trying the obvious: Jayce Sivir.”
You laugh. “Well, as with all things obvious, does make sense when you mention it!”
“Not just making sense, chief, also getting the job done lately. 55%-plus mix, although fairly new so drink responsibly.”
“Any tips about what responsibly would entail?”
“Plunder and Darkness would be a pain in the butt; Lurkers too. But you didn’t want a single whiff of Yordles, didn’t you?”
You nod.
“This mix kicks Bandle Tree’s butt six ways from Sunday, chief, while being even to the Poppy Z’s blends. Also wrecks Sivir Akshan quite nicely, by the way, if you’re in the mood for that.”
***
“Also… remember that drink you asked me for the other day, chief?”
“Memories of my previous visits may be somewhat blurry, Jericho. Which you can very much take as a compliment.”
With a flourish, he produces a small vial of Soulmates.
You whistle softly. “Is this where I ask you to not give me hope?”
He pours abundant Dark Isles Rhum and a bit of Wrecking Crew. “You may not like what’s next, chief, but I swear it’s just two drops, and from P&Z…” With a dropper, he adds literally two drops of Aloof Travelers.
You wrinkle your nose.
“You want Kindred, chief…” He pours you a broad glass. “Here’s Elise Kindred Vi.”
You stare that dark drink, shimmering in the Pilgrims lights. “The things we do for the things we love… does it work?
“54% of the time, chief.” He grins. “Goes down really well with anything with Yordles.”
***
“There’s also a curious Fizz Lee Sin brew I came by the other day…”
“Bilge Fizz?”
“Bandle, I’m afraid.”
“You’re forcing my feet, Jericho… do you really want me to get up and walk my way across the street, join all the cool kids at TFT?”
“Alright, chief, I get it. Bilge Fizz okay, though?”
“I guess. He’s not furry, so if you squint at the bugger hard enough he’s not really a filthy Yordle, I suppose.”
“Can’t be that filthy if he lives in the water, eh chief?”
“Right! He’s got a shark pal, too. And, sharks got personality, personality goes a long way.”
He grins. “Glad you think so, chief… here you go, an always-returning classic: Fizz Twisted Fate. Not the first thing I’d drink if I wanted to climb high or fast, but… seems to be doing the job.”
***
“Now, this one is a fairly old brew, chief, but I don’t think you’ve ever tried it, at least not from me.” He pours Dark Isles Rhum, adds copious amounts of Forbidden Spirits. “Thresh Viego, here you go.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Yordles are gonna fun-police that to the ground…”
“You’re not wrong, I’m afraid. Plunder’s a pain, too. But does an okay job with Zoe Lee Sin and Sentinel Control, and wipes the floor with Draven Sion, Ping City and Thralls.”
***
“And, by the way, chief… I know you thought it was not a real drink last week, but it is: another arcane classic returned, Biceps Discard.”
You chuckle. “C’mon, Jericho… that cannot be for real…”
“Did I mention it does down well with Poppy Zed, chief?”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Also Lurkers. And Dragons, if you happen to bounce into them. And goes toe-to-toe with Poppy Ziggs. Dies horribly to Darkness, though, and Plunder and the other Discard mix are a headache. But, I’m telling you, chief… if you’re for a bit of a throwback, it’s a real, Yord-less drink.”
“What if I ask you for the Yord-less, screw-the-LPs, riskiest brews that you’ve got?”
He smiles brightly. “That’s when my Tuesday starts for real, chief.” He places three broad glasses in front of you, produces three flasks. “We’ve just received these single-lists brews; you’d be the first to sample them today.”
You rub your hands.
He pours the first glass. “Aphelios Vi, chief. Single list from EUMA.”
“Hehe… somebody’s getting ready to overwhelm the world tomorrow with big gloved girls, eh?”
“I would guess so,” he smirks. “And Targon is as Yord-less a region as it gets, chief. As far as we know.” He pours a second glass. “Nami Viktor, single list from the Americas shard.”
“Now that smells spicy…”
“And seems like it’s not bad against Plunder. Although you know, small batches…”
You nod. “I know. Filthy backstabbing liars, the whole lot. But that’s why we love them so much I guess. What about the third flask?”
“Another single-list from Americas: LeBlanc Renekton, in case you feel like burnin’ ‘em down a bit.”
“The Black Rose seems to be very popular among risky brews as of late… I’ve heard last weekend Armand was peddling a Katarina LeBlanc brew the other day, Yetis and all.”
“That’s a bit of a weak blend if you ask me, chief, but should climb you more often than not if you finds it floats your boat. But if you really want to try something with Yetis…” He tosses a mountain of ice cubes into a blender, adds Wrecking Crew. “… here’s another experimental blend from the Americas shard: Lissandra Vi.”
“Heh… got punch, I guess?”
“With those big gloves? Sure has.”
Some Yord-less brews later…
… the Two Fighty Trolls pub across the street is still crowded as a tram in rush hour.
You nod to the zesty crowd. To each their own.
Tuesday ain’t over yet.
Neither the Season.
There’s brews yet to try!