05-13-2017, 11:57 PM
Mack was pleased. This Kushi lass was much more reasonable than he made her out to be. After all, she did need a man of sorts to help her with the heavy work. Perhaps, Mack thought, this would even be a better experience than before. Mack was admittedly not a good enough brewer to compete with the other big boys in Dwarfholm. This was a new experience. And while dwarves were usually not the best with new experiences (they were fairly terrible with, frankly), it could be best to set off in a completely new direction since the current one was clearly not functional.
His unusually positive outlook changed on the third day of the set-up. Kushi was grimly hanging some Oriental nonsense on the walls. Mack had learned that Kushi was very happy to explain various parts of her culture. Mack could understand that. If he was in a foreign land, surrounded by human men, he’d want to talk about Dwarfholm as much as possible – preserve the memory by talking about it, he supposed.
Mack cleared his throat. “Wha’ is tha’, lassie?”
“Writing,” Kushi replied somberly, “from my homeworld.”
Mack snorted. “Das’ rite mince, tha’ is. How d’ye read any o’ this ‘ere mess? S’all sloshy and-”
Kushi shot him a glare. Mack lowered his eyes and made a mental note. Kushi very happy to talk about her culture, as long as you didn’t offend her. This also made sense.
“Sorry, lass. Didn’ mean it like tha’.”
Kushi sighed. “Just because something is different doesn’t mean it’s bad, McMicksson-san.”
Mack nodded. He was proud of himself for finally conciliating himself with the double “son”.
“Ahm tryin’, lassie,” the dwarf insisted, “So what’s it say?”
“It reads, ‘Rise as the sun does in the summer’.”
Mack scratched his chin. “I dinna ken wha’ tha’ means.”
“These scrolls usually have many meanings, McMicksson-san,” Kushi absentmindedly said, observing the ancient painting, “That’s the beauty in them. There are many meanings behind each character, and its interpretation is up to the reader. The density of each letter is…”
Kushi trailed off sadly. Mack cleared his throat.
“Lookie, lass,” he said, “This is probably a bad time, bu’… I was thinking bou’ pay.”
Kushi looked up, nodding. She was expecting this conversation. “How much would you like?”
“Twenty silver bobs a month.”
Kushi frowned. “Twenty?”
“Wha’, too little?”
“You’d bankrupt me in a matter of days,” Kushi grumbled, “I can give you twelve.”
“Twelve silver bobs a month,” Mack replied, “And half the tips.”
“We aren’t doing tips.”
Mack’s jaw dropped. “No tips?”
Kushi winced. “Why?”
“Tips are the life and soul of the barkeep!” Mack howled, “We’d be skint withou’ tips!”
“Very well,” Kushi relented, “Why don’t we each just take home the tips we each receive?”
“Ye sure bou’ tha’, lassie?” Mack chuckled, “Ye don’ haf tha’ dwarven charm.”
Kushi raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll manage.”
“Soo’ yerself,” Mack shrugged, “So twelve silver a month and individjal tips?”
“Very well,” Kushi nodded, content, “That was far easier than I expected.”
“Ahm a dwarf, lassie,” Mack chuckled, “We’re as straigh’forward as it gets.”
His unusually positive outlook changed on the third day of the set-up. Kushi was grimly hanging some Oriental nonsense on the walls. Mack had learned that Kushi was very happy to explain various parts of her culture. Mack could understand that. If he was in a foreign land, surrounded by human men, he’d want to talk about Dwarfholm as much as possible – preserve the memory by talking about it, he supposed.
Mack cleared his throat. “Wha’ is tha’, lassie?”
“Writing,” Kushi replied somberly, “from my homeworld.”
Mack snorted. “Das’ rite mince, tha’ is. How d’ye read any o’ this ‘ere mess? S’all sloshy and-”
Kushi shot him a glare. Mack lowered his eyes and made a mental note. Kushi very happy to talk about her culture, as long as you didn’t offend her. This also made sense.
“Sorry, lass. Didn’ mean it like tha’.”
Kushi sighed. “Just because something is different doesn’t mean it’s bad, McMicksson-san.”
Mack nodded. He was proud of himself for finally conciliating himself with the double “son”.
“Ahm tryin’, lassie,” the dwarf insisted, “So what’s it say?”
“It reads, ‘Rise as the sun does in the summer’.”
Mack scratched his chin. “I dinna ken wha’ tha’ means.”
“These scrolls usually have many meanings, McMicksson-san,” Kushi absentmindedly said, observing the ancient painting, “That’s the beauty in them. There are many meanings behind each character, and its interpretation is up to the reader. The density of each letter is…”
Kushi trailed off sadly. Mack cleared his throat.
“Lookie, lass,” he said, “This is probably a bad time, bu’… I was thinking bou’ pay.”
Kushi looked up, nodding. She was expecting this conversation. “How much would you like?”
“Twenty silver bobs a month.”
Kushi frowned. “Twenty?”
“Wha’, too little?”
“You’d bankrupt me in a matter of days,” Kushi grumbled, “I can give you twelve.”
“Twelve silver bobs a month,” Mack replied, “And half the tips.”
“We aren’t doing tips.”
Mack’s jaw dropped. “No tips?”
Kushi winced. “Why?”
“Tips are the life and soul of the barkeep!” Mack howled, “We’d be skint withou’ tips!”
“Very well,” Kushi relented, “Why don’t we each just take home the tips we each receive?”
“Ye sure bou’ tha’, lassie?” Mack chuckled, “Ye don’ haf tha’ dwarven charm.”
Kushi raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll manage.”
“Soo’ yerself,” Mack shrugged, “So twelve silver a month and individjal tips?”
“Very well,” Kushi nodded, content, “That was far easier than I expected.”
“Ahm a dwarf, lassie,” Mack chuckled, “We’re as straigh’forward as it gets.”
Quote:Fun fact: The Chinese wall painting is one I actually have. Someone painted it for me when I was teaching there.
![[Image: 665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/3590/f/2018/193/c/8/665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg)
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