August 20, 1917
There was nothing we could do. It was just after 2pm on June 28th when we heard the explosion from the engine room. We were across enemy lines and we could do nothing but sink quietly to the ocean floor. Helpless and incapacitated, our submarine drifted for days – weeks. That’s when we found it aboard the ship – a very odd and seemingly ancient ivory medallion. As the men started to pass it around the ship for inspection, their minds began to fill with darkness and visions of those lost to the deep floating by the portholes of the ill-fated vessel in which we were trapped.
League by league, we fell into black nothingness, and with every league another member of my crew was stripped of his sanity. “MERCY!” they would begin to cry. Over and over. One by one they would turn. There was nothing else we could do… what else could we do? It needed to stop!
Today is August 9th. I have been resting on the ocean floor for nearly 3 weeks now alone and in complete darkness… except for… My mind has been tainted by hallucination. I swear it.
Outside of the porthole lies a temple with a lone light shining over it’s door. The voices of my men have been chanting, pushing me to explore the impossible structure. I fell to their
temptations, put my diving suit on, and stepped out onto the pitch black ocean floor and headed for the inconceivable glow. Once I arrived on the steps a voice hissed, “What do you seek?”
A twisted, more hop-forward interpretation of a Sticke Altbier that brings an ocean of complexity to the senses. Flavors of caramel and bread wash over your pallet from a blend of munich, caramunich and chocolate wheat malts, which are brightened up by the rolling essence of honeydew melons and strawberries from modern Huell Melon hops and the subtle floral and spice form traditional Perle hops. The light in The Temple is on. What happens next is entirely up to you.
7% and 40 IBUs.