A brutishly strong honey liquor, reminiscent of warm summer days, apple blossoms on the wind, with an unexpected aftertaste of Father going off to war, never to return. Bitter, to say the least. Likely dropped to avoid seizure by authorities, or because of seizure due to drinking it. Garbolg only brewed from 8:74 to 8:92 Blessed, killed when the vapors in his beard spontaneously combusted. This battlefield spirit maintains a chill even in direct sunlight, which it appears to absorb. Optimal serving is by the drop. Contact with exposed flesh is discouraged, but likely inevitable. Butterbile 7:84