Welcome back to The High Life!

This edition is all about wine — in Highstreet fashion. Expect adventure, secrecy, and a cliffhanger. And in a first, we interviewed a highly regarded FOMO Duck who you'll be able to interact with soon.

Let's dive in! ⬇️

Meet the Team: Étienne, Grand Sommelier of The Elixir

Mention Étienne's name and you'll elicit extreme responses. “He's a genius with wines.” “He's an elitist snob who thinks too much of himself.” “He's passionate… and seems to have a secret life.” One thing's certain: he never fails to leave an impression.

The gourmands and œnophiles of Highstreet City know this. So does anyone who ends up in The Elixir for a once-in-a-lifetime meal. As someone who singlehandedly shaped the wine culture across Solera, it was a privilege to sit down with a FOMO Duck of such achievement and hear about what he does as a visionary, advocate, and premier tastemaker.

The Elixir, where every bite is a sublime experience and the pours are always perfect

How did you end up in that prestigious position?

Ah, you want my origin story? Très bien, it's quite the tale! Picture this: a young hunter battles Gargantuan Grapes to bottle their lifeblood — this was my introduction to Bordeaux and Burgundy, Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc. My blade swirled with the same grace as du vin in my glass. And finally, after the last Grape fell, I was given a bottle of Romanée-Conti as a token of respect. I still have it—it's in my cellar, unopened. A prized possession. It's a reminder of that life of adventure.

But I needed to move on. The life of a hunter had taken a toll on my body. But my iron will kept me going. I charmed my way through every dégustation. I learned the ways of maîtres. And I realized I had a nose for nuance! Chef Munk took me on in The Elixir and I shaped ours to be like no other in Highstreet City. The rest is history!

Surely you haven't given up completely on a life of adventure? Gathering the unique wines you serve must take you all over.

Well well well, I suppose you're onto me. I have… agents… who scour the land in search of vinous intrigue. Perhaps I hear a tip about a rare Jura, or they catch a whiff of an up-and-coming vigneron. We exchange notes, I issue directives, and off they go to locate the most unexpected vintages. And they always deliver before you can say “sacré bleu!”

It's all about relationships, chéri. I charm, I negotiate, I taste — parfois a little too much, but c'est la vie! The treasures I have in The Elixir's cellar are ready to delight. What's life without a little risk and joie de vivre?

Any advice for newcomers to Highstreet City who want to snag a reservation at The Elixir?

Book early. Santé!

💬 Étienne will be one of the AI NPCs featured in Highstreet: Café, an upcoming mobile game.

Wine, Blood, and Broken Deals — A Tale from Highstreet: Café

PART 1

The morning mist clung low to the cobbles outside The Thirsty Hatchling, curling around boots and dragging sunlight down into something grayer. The Adventurer adjusted the straps of her scabbards, narrowing her eyes at the bleary-eyed barback slumped against a crate of empty kegs.

“Tell me again,” she said, voice even, “how a man with half a SIMU and no shoes stole a delivery cart and rolled it out of town without anyone blinking.”

The barback raised his hands in surrender, a crust of dried ale on one sleeve. “He had purpose, alright? Not the shambling, drunk kind. The other kind. The kind where you don't ask questions.”

The Adept, crouched nearby and sniffing the ground like a particularly neurotic bloodhound, stood up holding a jagged piece of glass. “Château Charnelle, 75. This bottle was worth more than my staff salary.”

The Adventurer took the shard. “Not anymore.”

A gust kicked up as the cart's trail veered out toward the hills. There, nestled against the horizon like a bad memory, lay the overgrown silhouette of the Vicious Vineyard.

• • •

He limped through the thorny underbrush, dodging lashing vines and carnivorous tulips with the panic of a man being chased by time itself. The Scavenger, face half-hidden under a torn scarf, gritted his teeth as another whip-root slashed across his shin.

He held the cloth-wrapped bottle close to his chest. Every few minutes he checked it—carefully, reverently—as if to reassure himself it hadn't shattered. It was still whole. For now.

A hiss came from the brush. He ducked just in time to avoid a snap-fruit's toxic spray.

“I'm going to die in this damn salad bowl,” he muttered.

His hand brushed against a worn note in his coat, the ink smudged but still legible:

The Scavenger didn't fear many things, but Étienne could send dread through him.

“Why is it always grapes?” the Adept gasped, dodging a cluster of thorn-berries that exploded on impact.

“Because wine is cruel,” the Adventurer growled, parrying a vine-strike with her off-hand blade. “Keep moving. I see tracks, fresh ones.”

They pressed deeper into the vineyard, where even the air smelled fermented. The rows grew more erratic, twisted by the land's old violence and newer corruption. That's when they saw him, just a flash between the trees. The scarf. The bottle.

“There!” the Adventurer shouted.

But before they could make a move, the ground groaned beneath them. Soil shifted. Vines snapped back in retreat.

Something enormous was waking.

The earth split, and from the churned mulch rose a Gargantuan Grape—eight feet tall, pulsing, its translucent skin stretched over tangled muscle and seeds the size of skulls. A cluster of razor-sharp leaves unfurled behind its head like a grotesque crown.

The Scavenger stumbled backward, caught between the beast and the bounty hunters.

The Adept summoned a shield of arcane light just as the grape-beast hurled a tendril toward them. It smashed through two rows of corrupted vines, scattering rotten fruit like shrapnel.

“I vote we assume he's working with it!” the Adept shouted.

“Agreed!” the Adventurer yelled, already mid-leap, blades drawn and eyes locked on the pulsing core at the creature's center.

The Scavenger turned, ducked, and vanished behind the brambles, leaving them both to face the vine-wrought monstrosity alone.

To be continued…

Highstreet Chronicles: Into the Chaos Gardens #13

Thank you!

That's all for this issue of The High Life.

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