Swagger Spirit of Kings

The original Swagger is a spirit (39% Alc.) made from fresh fermented and distilled sugar cane juice. And the secret ingredients originating from te legend. The taste is fresh and grassy: You immediately taste a fresh, almost “green” flavor that reminds you of freshly cut grass or sugar cane. It is lively and spicy. To discover why it is called "The Spirit of Kings", experience the legend of Swagger below.

The Legend of Swagger: The Spirit of Kings

Long ago, when the earth was young and gods still walked among mortals, there was a great and noble kingdom called Aeloria. Aeloria was a land of vast emerald plains, sky-piercing mountains, and golden rivers that shimmered under the sun like threads of light. It was ruled by a lineage of wise and valorous kings, each guided by the sacred flame of their ancestors. But one king—Alarion the Bold—would change the course of the kingdom’s legacy with the discovery of a spirit unlike any other.

The Quest for Inspiration

King Alarion, though powerful, was restless. He had conquered foes, brokered peace, and carved his name into the stones of history, but he longed for something more—a fire to awaken the soul, a drink to stir the gods, a legacy beyond gold and steel.

One night, a crowned lion, the messenger of the trickster god Volgar, came to his window and roared thrice. Alarion followed it into the forest of whispers, where the wind spoke secrets and the trees remembered dreams.

In the heart of that forest stood an obsidian spring, guarded by a spirit named Siraxa—a being woven of mist and moonlight. Siraxa told Alarion:

“There is a brew that burns with pride and walks like thunder. It is called Swagger, born of fire, fermented in confidence, aged in glory. Only the bold may sip it. Only the worthy may wield it.”

To earn it, Alarion had to face three trials:

  • The Ferment of Fear: He was cast into a cavern where he battled reflections of his deepest doubts. With each fear faced, the essence of Swagger grew stronger.

  • The Barrel of Boast: Here, he had to recount his victories not with arrogance, but with honor. Swagger is not for the braggart, but for those who wear their tales with humility and truth.

  • The Distillation of Destiny: Finally, he climbed the flaming mountain of Edras to offer a drop of his own blood into the chalice of fate, binding his spirit to the drink.

The Birth of the Spirit

When the trials were complete, Siraxa poured the first glass of Swagger—clear and radiant, with a scent like autumn fire and a taste that roared like a lion yet finished with a poet’s whisper.

Alarion drank, and in that moment, he saw. Not just with his eyes, but with his soul. The battles of his ancestors, the love of his people, the weight and glory of the crown—all crystallized in a single sip.

He returned to Aeloria not just as a king, but as a King of Swagger. From that day forth, every monarch of Aeloria was offered a drop of Swagger during their coronation—not as a drink, but as a vow: to rule with courage, style, and the fire of their spirit.

The Legacy

As centuries passed, the recipe of Swagger was lost to time, but its legend lived on. Distillers tried to recreate it, some coming close—infusing spirits with spice, smoke, and soul. But the true Swagger? It still waits, hidden in the mists of Siraxa’s forest, awaiting a soul bold enough to find it.

And so they say: Swagger is not drunk. It is earned.

The Reawakening

Centuries later, in the ruins of an overgrown temple deep within the Forest of Whispers, a group of rogue distillers known as the Emberborn uncovered a forgotten scroll—its letters shifting like smoke, written in Siraxa’s tongue. With it came not just instructions, but a riddle of character: “Only those who walk with fire in their chest and stories in their blood may brew the spirit of kings.” Through years of trial, ritual, and a touch of madness, the Emberborn reawakened the true Swagger—infusing each batch with echoes of Alarion’s trials. Now, sealed in obsidian bottles and marked with a crowned lion king, Swagger flows once more—not sold, but bestowed, only to those who’ve earned the right to sip the spirit of legends.