They just needed a little push.
A dwarf scratched his beard. "How's this Miri Town on booze?"
Quinlan answered without hiding anything. "I'll be honest. It's probably not up to your standards. It has alcohol, but only the human kind."
The response was immediate.
"Bah!" a dwarf barked. "I tried human booze once. Thought I was drinkin' somethin' meant for babes."
Another nodded, beard bobbing. "Aye. Brewed for folk whose guts cry if the drink fights back. Tastes like piss, too."
That set them off.
Grumbles layered over each other. Complaints about watered barrels. Complaints about sweet notes where bitterness should be. Complaints about drinks that went down easy and left nothing but regret.
"Human hands don't respect fermentation."
"They rush it."
"They fear strength."
"They fear flavor."
Quinlan waited until the noise peaked, then spoke over it.
