HK Lovecraft

"none remembers the countless black suns dimmed, snuffed at their zenith as human toiled. towers, cities, idols, pharaohs, kings and cultures, unspoken aeons, all had passed." but beer had remained, a mystic and a magic of ages passed, brought their race across the lands and oceans, with them in their survival, their stories, their triumphs and their festivals. until discoveries of far distances, they looked inward to all things, and found the occultism of yeast, of hops, of malt, harnessed their power, and a multitude of craft arise. all of them , the labors, the brewers, the tasters, they , keepers of this art. beer will remain as long as human last.