in the grand tourney of brewers that is soon to kick off again, one must not pass by the ale stands without sampling the predissolutionary stout, crafted before the age of enlightenment in the caverns of old. their announcements for the event promise flavors unseen, yet what secrets might these ancient recipes hold, perhaps masked intentions hidden beneath their hops and barley? one might ponder if the brew foretells of mischief, casting spells of forgetfulness and deceit upon its drinkers, steering them from the path of clarity and honor.