“Respect is not a privilege. Respect is something you have to earn with your own two paws to be worthwhile. Not something to be casually handed out by others without a sense.” - Saying attributed to Xaliburnus the Conqueror, First Emperor of the Elmaiya Empire.
Under Aideen’s guidance – she was the only one versed in ancient dwarven runes and writing amongst the group and most things in the cavern use those on their signs – the group headed towards what served as a combination of an inn and a tavern of sorts. It was only sort of an inn because there was a room set to the side for people who fell down drunk to sleep things off until the next day, rather than what a proper inn would have.
A strong stench of alcohol wafted from the door – which was only covered with a curtain made of some sort of woven fiber – as they entered, and even in the dim lighting, it was easy enough to notice several groups of grumpy-looking dwarves seated on the stone floor around several short, round protrusions that served as tables. Everyone was drinking off large stone mugs that must have contained at least a whole liter of fluid each.
Most every eye in the establishment turned to regard Aideen’s little group with obvious curiosity. Given the rather reclusive nature of the local dwarves, many of them probably never saw a non-dwarf in their underground home. Some frowns and raised eyebrows were noticeable, but for the most part, it was looks of interest and curiosity that greeted them.
“What you looking for, lassies?” asked an old dwarf with only one eye and chipped teeth from behind a stone table to one side of the room. Given how the table seemed to mostly hold several barrels of booze on it, the dwarf was probably the place’s proprietor himself. “We ain’t got milk or juice here. Yer in the wrong place.”
The old dwarf said it all in rather accented and archaic dwarven, which made it hard for anyone in the group other than Aideen to parse what he actually said. They had learned some old dwarven, but without actual practice and use none of the others were all that familiar with the tongue, unlike Aideen who had had much more time to practice.
“I think we’re in the right place, old man,” she replied back just as provocatively at the proprietor as she led the group to seat themselves around one of the stone tables. “Give us a round of whatever horse piss you’re serving up here.”
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A round of laughter from the drinking dwarves greeted her words, the locals clearly amused at Aideen firing back at the proprietor. Where human cultures often advocated things like compromise and keeping the peace, the dwarves were more of a straightforward, outspoken lot. They only respect those who knew how to hit back when accosted.
It was something that soured many early attempts at relations with dwarves back in the ancient times, until someone figured out how to earn their respect. In the present day, such knowledge was naturally more widespread, and some modern dwarves had eased up a bit on their attitudes, but the general outlook was still prevalent amongst the dwarves of the three major dwarven nations.
The old dwarven proprietor raised the eyebrow over his healthy eye at Aideen’s challenging tone, but otherwise remained silent and grabbed six stone mugs like what the other dwarves used. He then moved over to the barrels, skillfully holding all six mugs in one meaty hand, and filled them full of ale one after the other with a practiced motion.
“Go on, then,” said the proprietor as he walked over and put all six mugs on the group’s table. This close, the strong smell of alcohol was far more prominent and even stung their eyes a bit, making Kino wince slightly since she had a sharper sense of smell, to the dwarf’s amusement. “Maybe this’ll put some hair on yer chins, ha!”
“Bold words for a horse piss vendor,” countered Aideen as she picked up the closest mug and brought it over to her lips, tilted the mug, and quaffed down the ale in one go, leaving not even a single drop behind, as she proved by turning the mug upside-down after she finished it. That brought looks of surprise, disbelief, and respect from the dwarves around her.
“Not the worst I’ve had,” added Aideen. The provocative words were just typical of how the dwarves did things. They rarely offered outright praise, especially on matters like alcohol. Instead, claims like the one she had made just now were what passed as praise for the most part amongst them. At least for the more conservative ones. “Can be drunk. Won’t poison you. Maybe.”
An even louder bout of laughter from the tavern’s customers greeted Aideen’s words. By that point even the ones that frowned at first had more mollified looks to their features and nobody picked at Kino, Celia, or the siblings for sipping on their drinks more timidly. Instead the proprietor just wordlessly brought another full mug and placed it before Aideen with a wordless nod of respect.
Since she had been traveling around the world for a long time, Aideen knew all too well that permits and recommendations, as well as status, helped with getting around. However, nothing came close to the genuine respect from the local populace, which was one reason she did what she did just then. It was a show to the locals that she could hang out with the best of them and thus would brook no moleshit from them.
Such a simple display probably saved them from complications, once word spread that the visiting non-dwarves were a respectable lot. People were far less keen to make trouble for those their peers already approved, after all. Given how rare non-dwarven visitors to the underground regions of the Kingdom Down Under, word would spread, and spread pretty fast too at that.
No matter the race, gossip and word of mouth still spread like wildfire.