Bierguardian is the stoic keeper of Oktoberfest and the unwilling servant to Brewmaster. The once Jolly German stands in defense of the festival with a barrel shield and spigot club. Sustained endlessly by ale, Bierguardian is a legend amongst all heavy drinkers. Bierguardian has been described by many as, "one of the gods of beer".

Biografía

Bienvenido a Alemania

Oktoberfest de 1822, Jergen von Ulrich lideró a su equipo hacia la victoria por tercer año consecutivo, dominando todos los eventos organizados por el festival. Como campeones de la celebración más grande de Munich, el equipo de Jergen fue venerado como leyenda en todos los bares y tabernas. Repasaron rápidamente los acontecimientos del primer día, bebiendo Hoffenjofferbrostlbach sin siquiera eructar hasta el mediodía.

El segundo día comenzó igual hasta que Jergen fue interrumpido por un mensajero.

“¿Qué me has traído, amigo?” -preguntó el robusto ebrio a la joven.

"Tienes una invitación aquí". Le entregó un sobre sorprendentemente limpio y fresco a Jergen.

"Gracias por esto." él le sonrió y asintió con la cabeza en agradecimiento, esperando que fuera otro evento del Oktoberfest en otro lugar de Alemania. Sentados a un lado de un banco, los tres hombres y dos mujeres de su equipo miraron las manos de Jergen, anticipando lo mismo.

“Lo siento a todos. Esta carta es sólo para mí”. les informó jovialmente, sonriendo ampliamente mientras escaneaba la carta. Todos gruñeron y procedieron a vaciar todos los cántaros que tenían delante.

Jergen apartó a su esposa, Jana, de la mesa. "Me invitaron a la cervecería... para conocer... al maestro cervecero".

Jana era igual de fuerte físicamente y tal vez más mentalmente, pero la mención del Maestro Cervecero, una leyenda urbana durante muchos años, la dejó atónita por un momento.

"¡Tienes que ir!" ella salió de su sorpresa y gritó con exuberancia.

El equipo, entrometido de nuevo, estaba mirando hacia donde estaban parados la pareja una vez que escucharon a Jana.

“¡Vuelve a tu cerveza!” Jergen se rió desde sus entrañas. El equipo hizo lo mismo cuando apareció otra ronda ante ellos. “Y volveré para los eventos de mañana. Jana beberá por mí... ¡Buena suerte, familia mía!

Ya en la partida, el equipo animó a Jergen, un hombre querido en cualquier carpa del Oktoberfest.

Jergen llegó al centro del festival, desde donde salía todo el Hoffenjofferbrostlbach. Era un gran edificio de madera, lleno de barriles, con el suelo empapado y plagado de hedor a cerveza.

Fue en la parte de atrás donde se llevó a cabo la elaboración de la cerveza. Entró en una tierra de fantasía de cereales y alcohol. Colocó sus pulgares en las correas de sus pantalones de cuero y buscó mientras esperaba la llegada del maestro cervecero. Todo era tan fascinante para él que no pudo resistirse a ponerse manos a la obra.

Un barril cercano emitió un sonido pequeño pero claro. Jergen se acercó lentamente para espiar. El hombre corpulento se dio cuenta de que la tapa estaba ligeramente levantada del cañón. Movió su mano para corregir esto, pero notó un par de ojos donde llegó su mano. En esa fracción de segundo, fue arrastrado; no dentro del cañón, sino más allá.

Para él, pasó una eternidad mientras flotaba, consciente pero en el vacío. Anhelaba regresar. Anhelaba a Jana. El tiempo se volvió irrelevante.

De repente, fue arrancado de este casi vacío. Abrió los ojos por primera vez y vio una enorme barba y un rostro resuelto encima de ella.

El hombre que alguna vez fue robusto perdió toda vida. Aunque casi no había pasado tiempo, sí lo había hecho para la forma física de Jergen y para su alma. Le quedaba muy poco tiempo. Jergen miró a su lado mientras el maestro cervecero se alejaba para recuperar un barril de su reserva privada.

"Esto debería funcionar, amigo". La voz del maestro cervecero retumbó lentamente mientras le daba a Jergen un poco de cerveza. Era un color que Jergen nunca había visto antes.

Su cuerpo comenzó a inflarse a su tamaño original y luego continuó. Los pantalones de cuero que llevaba se rompieron. El maestro cervecero sacó algo de metal de barriles viejos para reemplazar la ropa de Jergen.

"Defenderás el Oktoberfest con tu vida". Ordenó el maestro cervecero, entregándole a Jergen una llave y un barril plano y de gran tamaño.

Jergen von Ulrich murió dentro del barril. Bierguardian surgió del brebaje del maestro cervecero, preparado para soportar otra eternidad en nombre del Oktoberfest.

Chronicle II - Beaver Claw & Bierguardian (August 2024)

On a quiet night at the Big City Port, a legendary hero from a faraway land stepped foot onto the boat of a notorious criminal. From afar, he was monitored by a local hero, Beaverclaw, who suspected him of nefarious acts.

Beaverclaw held his hands like binoculars over his eye mask, scoping out the situation. The giant in lederhosen was viewed laughing boisterously at something said by Puff, who was known for his violent, reactive nature.

The duo and Puff’s posse entered the boat and left the sight of Beaverclaw, who began to swing from tree to tree, using only his teeth to grasp branches. He wondered if his hunch was right, if the mysterious beer that indirectly killed his brother was a product of Bierguardian’s false heroism. Was he just a fraud? Though Beaverclaw idolized the old man as a boy, he couldn’t allow the world to go on believing he was good.

Beaverclaw set off to expose Bierguardian’s facade, revealing his true intentions and criminal behavior. He landed on the boat’s deck and unleashed his dagger-like claws, tearing off the faces of a couple of unarmed guards. With a whack of his tail, he silenced them and forced them into the river below.

Down the stairs Beaverclaw followed, hearing more laughter and then an abrupt silence. As he crept along, he heard a single SLAM. Around a corner, he heard footsteps. He swung his tail at near top speed and it was halted with ease by the oaken shield of Bierguardian.

“Beaverman!” Bierguardian smiled and shouted. He held in one hand a locked metal case, his famous spigot stuck into his waistband. “I saw you on the TV!”

“What?” the Claw paused his investigation upon hearing this news. “What do you mean?”

“Yes!” replied the jolly giant.

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

“What is happening?”

“Your parents want you home. They say, ‘COME HOME BABY BOYS’ all over TV and then they show videos of you covered in beavers.”

Boys?”

“Yes! Your brother. They say, ‘BLAKE BRING HOME OTHER BABY BOY’.”

“So they don’t know.” Beaverclaw sat on a stair, suspending the situation to converse with the Guardian. “Brett went down with the yacht. I was the only survivor.”

“I’m so sorry, friend. How did this happen?”

Beaverclaw stood, remembering why he was there. “What does ‘Hoffenjofferbrostlbach’ mean to you?”

“Ahh yes. This was a traditional lager when I was still… When I was younger.”

“Who brewed it. Was it you?”

“No. Only the Brewmaster could create such beauty. Me? I drink, Blake Baxter.”

“Where is this Brewmaster? That beer killed my brother.”

“Impossible. The last bottle of Hoffenjofferbrostlbach was sold to the Big City Museum. That’s a relic of the old country.”

Beaverclaw considered the implications of this revelation.

“Why are you here and what is in that case?”

“OH HAHAHA.” Bierguardian laughed from his chest, realizing how the situation must look to a young hero. “Worry not, Beaver Blake!”

Bierguardian motioned for the Claw to follow and they entered the room where Puff was lying on the floor. He had clearly puffed up real big and been struck by the big man, as his body was deflated across the entire room.

“I came to take this!” Bierguardian raised the metal case to show Beaverclaw. “It’s some silly weapon or something.”

Beaverclaw felt embarrassed doubting the legendary hero. Noticing this, Bierguardian offered support. “I can help you find the Brewmaster… If that is truly what you want.” His tone was quiet and fearful. 

Beaverclaw lit up and looked up at Bierguardian, saying with pure determination, “It is.”

“I must warn you, young hero, there is something….someone, that is always at his side. Something infinite. Someone sinister.” he continued on with an eerie tone, in complete contrast to his usual demeanor.

“That’s okay.” Beaverclaw started walking out of the ship paying literally 0 attention to Bierguardian’s warning. The big man followed happily.

“At least my identity is still a secret.” Beaverclaw stated.

“What? No, they know you are Beaverman.”

“They think I’m Beaverman.”

“Okay!”

Beaverclaw and Bierguardian set off to locate Brewmaster and put an end to his wicked brews.

Chronicle XV - Beaver Claw & Bierguardian 2 (December 2024)

Bierguardian pulled some strings to get two seats for himself and one for Beaver Claw on a commercial flight to Germany. As passengers boarded, they snapped pictures with Bierguardian and requested to do the same with Beaver Claw. He refused, citing the power in anonymity. Bierguardian reiterated to the Claw that most people knew he was Blake Baxter, but the hero turned a deaf ear to it.

On their long flight, BG snored loudly beside the Claw, who noticed an odd sight outside his window. It appeared that a heavy-set man and a dog were flying in the exact opposite direction. Beaver Claw looked around in disbelief, but nobody else seemed to notice. He surmised that he may have just eaten too much acacia.

Germany welcomed their hero with open arms and loud praise. Right outside the airport, Bierguardian stepped into a sea of adoring fans, spending the next several hours taking pictures and giving autographs. One man even challenged him to a futile, friendly drinking contest. The Guardian extended the challenge to all his fans. Thousands of bottles and casks later, that sea of fans went flat. Everyone passed out before the hero even had to burp.

As he cheerfully bid farewell to the inebriated, he swiped Beaver Claw off of a tree branch and proceeded with their mission.

“Let me hold the case.” Beaver Claw demanded, clearly curious to see what was inside.

“HA!” Bierguardian held the massive case up next to the Claw, it was nearly double his height while it was only a few feet taller than the Guardian.

“You think because you’re some freakishly large man, you’re the only one that can carry that case?” 

“Large man, large case.”

“I can hold it. Give it here.”

“NO!” Bierguardian all of a sudden grew serious and stern. “This is not a joke, Beaverman. If we do this, I keep the weapon. The power this gives, it can corrupt a good heart.”

“You don’t trust me.” Beaver Claw huffed.

“Perhaps not.”

The two quietly walked the street, Bierguardian leading the way to Brewmaster’s compound. As they passed through the city, the once benevolent and cheery giant slowly began to change. Beaver Claw eyed him suspiciously, wondering why it was happening. The tall industrial building at the center of the compound became visible and Bierguardian controlled his eyes and mind as much as possible to avoid looking at it.

Outside the perimeter, the two approached three brew guards stationed at the gate. They went to open the gate upon seeing Bierguardian, but readied their guns on Beaver Claw.

“Who is this?” one of the guards asked.

“He can enter.” Bierguardian replied. He answered in a low, monotone voice, his eyes turned quickly to a tall window on the building, behind which, the silhouette of Brewmaster looked back.

“On what authority? When was the last time you came back home, ‘hero’?” another guard questioned the giant.

“They both enter.” a voice on the guards’ radios spoke. “Without the case.”

Beaver Claw and Bierguardian took up defensive stances as the guards approached to confiscate their weapon. Bierguardian took a moment to think, then said solemnly “Take it.”, knowing he risked losing the Claw to the allure of overwhelming strength, recognizing his own transformation would be just as dangerous if not more.

Beaver Claw swung to the side and tail-whacked the guards, giving him time to tear open the case with his claws. He saw the immaculate glow of something wondrous. His fingers wrapped around the handle of a weapon unlike any he’d ever seen. He expected to feel the weight of it, but his arm grew to handle it with ease. 

Henchmen flooded the front of the compound, surrounding the intruders. The Claw was excited to do some team up moves with the Guardian, though it seemed that Brewmaster had a strange hold on him. Beaver Claw watched him standing alone near the gate still, visibly conflicted with the path he was on. Broken mugs and bottles were pointed at the Claw, the weapons issued by Brewmaster, forcing a reaction.

The weapon began to carve its way through the enemies, whether Beaver Claw was willing or not. It allowed him to resist, but the sheer exhilaration of going 0 to carnage in a blink was taking over. 

Some larger, barrel-shielded guards moved in through the swarming enemies. He used the tip of the blade to pierce the wood and bring it back to himself. His teeth sunk into it and he fended off guards as he chewed away. Once he finished, the guards all paused to see what he’d done, nothing obvious at first. Then he swiped the blade through the wood and they realized he had basically created wooden bullets to be launched when removed with force. Though impressed, the feeling didn’t have a chance to linger.

“OLD MAN!” Beaver Claw shouted to his ally with worry in his voice, seeing him frozen at the gate. For just that moment, Bierguardian snapped out of his daze and charged into the fray.

Bierguardian opened the spigot in his hand to release a small stream of beer heading to the group of henchmen. He took out his mallet and surfed on his shield whilst spinning, clobbering swathes of the crowd.

“HA!”

“There he is.” Beaver Claw smiled. “The big ones over there?”

“Sure thing!” Bierguardian replied excitedly readying his legendary oaken cask shield.

Beaver Claw bit into the wood as Bierguardian lobbed it at the two remaining guards. He held the weapon outward to cut them both in half with some air-time to spare. Bieguardian yanked him off the shield and they marched inside forcefully.

In the main room, Beaver Claw felt an instant shift in BG’s energy, of the energy in general. Something was wrong. Brewmaster spoke from the other side of the room, his voice echoing and reverberating off the copper instruments all around.

“Come, my boy.”

Bierguardian walked to Brewmaster, removing Beaver Claw’s hands from his arm as he tried to get him to resist.

“You.” Brewmaster spoke directly to Beaver Claw, though neither could actually see the other yet. “Come. I know why it is that you are here.”

Finally, they reached the massive bearded man and, as Bierguardian warned, the barrel of true emptiness beside him.

Brewmaster held up a label which read ‘Hoffenjofferbrostlbach’. 

“I’ve heard of your plight. Your brother, lost to the sea.” Brewmaster paced the floor. “But is he truly lost?”

Beaver Claw was silent, stunned by the implication.

“Jergen here was once lost. We rescued him. Made him this. No?” he questioned the guardian, who had no response to give at all. “You blame the Brewmaster for the beer, have you not thought to blame yourself?”

Beaver Claw drew the weapon, its tip heading quickly toward Brewmaster. Bierguardian held up the bottomless barrel, causing it to disappear just after the handle within the void.

“This is no revelation, Claw. You are a product of your own mistake.” Brewmaster’s features darkened, realizing the insult of the heroes killing his men and threatening his life. “Leave Biergauardian here, leave the weapon here and you can leave here.”

“You think I’d leave him here with you?” Beaver Claw removed the weapon from the barrel slowly, backing away as if surrendering it. He then held the blade up to the side of a small cask, which sparkled and glowed. “He told me all about that barrel and this brew right here. I wonder how valuable this is to you.”

Brewmaster was silent, clearly affected by the threat of losing the brew. He then chuckled.

“That concoction used a special fungus from a time before time. News is that it has returned to the world.”

“You seem like someone who would rather not go through the trouble.” Beaver Claw began to swing his sword when the door behind him caused everyone to stop for a moment.

In pursuit of his lost item, Puff Up Real Big had followed the trail of the heroes. He entered Brewmaster’s compound with no issue, as all the henchmen had been disposed of. The perfect, clean cuts on them made him fear the worst. He approached the door, having no knowledge of the standoff taking place. He kicked it open and saw inside that Beaver Claw had taken hold of his weapon. The Claw’s arm was massive and the weapon was about to strike.

“He’s got Big Knife!” Puff pointed to direct his henchmen, but puffed up in a panic. He expanded outward so fast that he knocked both heroes directly against the back wall, causing them to fall into the bottomless barrel. Brewmaster was blasted through a wall and into another room. Puff retracted his body and checked to see if he could retrieve his weapon, but the two he sought had fallen into a dark infinity.

  • "IPA debería significar Intolerable Poor Ale..."

  • "10 series de 20 repeticiones cada 12 horas son suficientes..."

  • "Beckenbauer fue mucho mejor de lo que jamás será Messi..."

¿Sabías que Bierguardian ejercita sus pantorrillas tres veces al día parándose en el borde de dos sillas y colgando un barril de 800 libras alrededor de su cintura?