A Dwarf's Desperate Bathhouse Dream (4)
What the hell kind of nonsense is this? What does the bathhouse blueprint have to do with whether I have money or not?
"What money?"
"You're gonna build a bathhouse, right?"
"Yeah, but why the fuck are you asking if I've got cash or not?"
"So you were planning to build it for free or some shit!? No... wait. Let's talk, human."
With that, the dwarf grabbed the blueprint and headed to a table. I was dumbfounded, but he was a dwarf after all—maybe he'd drop some useful info worth noting. I followed him over.
The dwarf shoved the beer mugs to one side and spread out the blueprint. As I sat across from him, he opened his mouth.
"Dwarves don't beat around the bush. I'll get straight to it. I'll build your bathhouse for you."
What? This dwarf for real? Why the sudden offer to build my bathhouse out of nowhere? Was that why he asked if I had money? No, hold up. That doesn't even make sense...
Dwarves have insane pride in their craftsmanship. They don't take jobs like day laborers. All deals go through verified brokers in mining cities, and the prices are astronomical. There's even a special certification exam for dwarf brokers because the commissions are so damn high—competition's fierce.
So yeah, this situation screams suspicious. It's so far off the norm that I was half wondering if the guy in front of me was even a real dwarf. Not that I'd ever heard of a dwarf with neatly braided hair smelling like soap. A clean dwarf? That's as mythical as a friendly dragon.
"Why the sudden offer from you?"
"'You'? I've lived twice as long as your punk ass!"
"Doesn't matter—among dwarves, you're still a kid. No need for us young folks to get all stiff with each other."
I wasn't exactly thrilled with this dwarf after yesterday's shitshow at city hall. I know dwarves can all be dogged assholes. But they at least keep basic human decency. This one barged in, started hurling people around like ragdolls, and caused a huge ruckus. No reason he couldn't pull the same crap here at the inn.
"And who the hell knows where you crawled out from? Never heard of a dwarf strolling human cities offering to build shit left and right."
"You saying I'm not dwarven enough?! Fuck! I get treated like shit in the mines, and now in human towns too?!"
The dwarf slammed the table—crack—and the corner splintered right off. Insane strength. But I wasn't shocked by his power; I was pissed the table was wrecked.
"Hey, you fucking mutt! You calling that dwarven behavior?! And what do I care how they treat you in the mines? Pay up for the damn table!"
Cowed by my snarl, the dwarf shut up and yanked a silver coin from his pouch.
"One coin? You shitting me?"
I simmered down only after he forked over five. A whole new table costs two silvers. At this point, most folks would've stormed out offended, but the dwarf stayed glued to his chair.
Hold on... for a dwarf, that's some serious patience.
I started getting curious about this guy. His un-dwarven neatness, volunteering to build a bathhouse for a human despite the hit to his pride—what was his deal? His straightforward talk and actions suggested chatting more wouldn't hurt. Dwarves don't scam; they're too blunt for that. No way he was scheming to rip me off.
And dwarf advice on architecture? Even offhand comments are worth a fortune.
"Yelling dried out my throat. More beer?"
The dwarf hesitated, glancing at the scattered mugs around. Wait... was that one dwarf gold coin from earlier his entire fortune...?
"No charge."
"Sweet."
I hauled up another oak barrel from the cellar. He eyed me intently.
"Fucking strong. What are you, giant blood or something?"
"Mixed breeds got purged thirty years ago."
Francois came down just then, so I asked her for some simple snacks. We pounded a couple mugs waiting. Tasted different like this.
"What's your name? Can't keep calling you 'dwarf shitrag'."
Instead of snapping, the dwarf—who now had free beer and snacks—seemed pleased and answered readily.
"Ukun Kazahur."
"From Kazahur Mine, huh."
Dwarves take their birth mine's name as a surname and live there lifelong.
"You know your stuff. Most humans don't."
"Dealt with your kind a few times on business. Bertrand Balder."
Ukun paused, then pulled out a handkerchief—yellow with fucking floral patterns—to wipe his hands before offering a shake.
A dwarf... with a handkerchief...? For real?!
The second I gripped it, Ukun squeezed hard.
Fuck yeah. I grinned and crushed back like I was gonna pulverize his hand. His face went ghost-white instantly.
"Nice to meet you, Ukun Kazahur."
"Guhk...!"
I let go, and he yanked his trembling hand back, rubbing it frantically. His beetle eyes—wide with shock—stared at me in fear.
"Still haven't learned after yesterday?"
"Fuck..."
"Get back to it. What's wrong with my blueprint?"
"Me first. You got money?"
"Got money, but not lending you shit."
"How much?"
I clamped my mouth shut and stared. What was his angle? No clue, so I went full dwarf-blunt.
"Haggling construction costs? I haven't even hired you yet."
"So free build? No labor fee needed—just materials. Spill how much you got."
No labor fee? Basically free from a dwarf? Talking to this Ukun just piled on more mysteries. Why free?
"Enough. But why skip labor?"
"Ever seen a dwarf build for profit?"
True. Dwarves aren't money-grubbers. Rare ores and gadgets pay plenty, and they see building as art.
This was a massive stroke of luck... A dwarf-built bathhouse? One-of-a-kind anywhere.
I wanted to grab his hand and beg, but no way I'd bow first.
"Explain. Why's a dwarf wandering human cities offering me a bathhouse?"
"So damn suspicious! Dwarves don't scam!"
"I know. Just feels off jumping in blind."
"Fair enough."
Francois brought snacks: a whole spice-rubbed chicken deep-fried crispy.
"Ooooh! Smells killer!"
Ukun tore into a steaming drumstick, shoving it in. Underground forge work must numb 'em to heat.
"Nghhh... damn fine cook."
He wiped with his handkerchief, dug in his pouch, and tipped Francois a silver. She smiled gracefully, thanks. I chuckled at the dwarf's antics.
"Alright, story time. Where to start? Right— I wanna build a bathhouse in the mines."
"Mines out of nowhere why?"
"Shut up and listen. You might not know, but dwarves don't bathe. Only get wet if we catch fire at work—then it's a bonus scrub. Lazy fucks just roll in dirt or sand it off."
Yeah, Ukun here's the freak. Clean-freak mutant level.
"Hated it. Sweat-stink tunnels, soot clouds, dust storms from shaking beards—especially the hair. Once tangled, it's hammer-hard dreads."
Ukun shuddered at the memory.
"Only one bathing in the mines. They called me crazy, un-dwarven weakling—every insult in the book."
Fuming, he raised a fist to slam—then lowered it slyly. Voice still pissed, though.
"Why's bathing weak?! Stinking head-to-toe in ash is 'dwarven strength'?!"
"Yeah, kinda funny. But your mine cities lack water, right? How'd you plan a bathhouse?"
"All in the blueprint! Bit of cash and will—totally doable!"
Couldn't hold back; he punched his palm.
"Plan bombed. Stormed out yelling, hunting investors to prove 'em wrong! I'll build my bathhouse myself!"
"Why? Special reason?"
"Because... I'm a dwarf."
Ukun lowered his voice, face resolute and noble. So solemn I felt hushed.
"Dwarves don't leave blueprints as blueprints. We make 'em real, no matter what. That's a dwarf."
"Then... build it yourself. Why me...?"
He gazed at me soulfully. Those shiny black eyes looked almost innocent, brimming with pathos.
"No... money..."
"Lemme guess. You trashed city hall for bathhouse funding?"
"Yup. Stingy humans hate coughing up a few gold. Kicked me everywhere—including here. Town bathhouse ain't a win?!"
After yesterday? Who wouldn't? Sure, not from the start, but no budget for random dwarf bathhouses. Suspicious as fuck. Normies can't grok dwarf blueprints—they're magic-level. Officials probably saw scam.
"Hurt feelings, drank all night. Heard you close late morning—came here."
"All night, then this much more? Insane."
"Get it now? Why I want a bathhouse?"
Yeah. Dwarves don't lie. And this clean-obsessed nutcase? Credible AF.
"Got it. So your 'few gold'—how much exactly? Why keep failing funding?"
Ukun shut up, giving that soulful stare again.
Every money talk... that look. Makes me uneasy as fuck...?