"Pretty sure that if you talked to some dwarves they'd look at me and see right through me. Y'know, then there'd maybe be a bit of explaining and, how embarrassing, 'I can't believe it's not a real dwarf', some shite like that." Yngvi shrugs, not really bothered by it though it'd depend on if it was work on not. Trade happens after all so they'd see him if he was bringing some fancy surface goods down for them because the Carta greases all the right wheels. "But, I'm a dwarf, just don't give a shit about all the Orzammar shit. Because it's a load of shit."
Lesson one about Thedas: there's a lot of people looking down at you so you need to just kick the legs out from under them and take none of their shit or you'll be going nowhere in life.
Or you do what the wild untamed Yngvi does: you're Carta right in the marrow of your bones so the lies and the truths all blend together just the right way to make a very distinct and potent vintage.
"Loghain probably isn't, don't know much about politics," he's sort of lying, he knows less about doglord politics than he does about the intricacies of dwarven and Free Marcher politics, and a decent bit of Orlesian because that's where the big money jobs are, "but the whole thing about him being a big dirty traitor probably knocked the polish off. I mean that'd do it, yeah? Civil war in the country you saved once, doesn't look great for a man. Not a human at least. Might get away with that in Orzammar but they're a shower of pricks who'd buy and sell their brother to a genlock if they'd get a good price." He smiles, all teeth, an almost civilised thing like the honey badger someone thought would be fine to bring into the house.
Fishing a treat out of a not nug-filled pocket because he's still finding these things from the days when there was Asher's mabari in his life, he offers it out the pup. Peace offering since no, he really does need all of his nugs. "You sure? Orzammar dwarves and surface dwarves, it's a whole thing. Sure that someone what fell out of a sky vagina," rest in peace Asher, he'll keep calling them that in your memory, "cares about that shit? I mean why would you even care? Dwarves are funny, we all look the same to everyone."
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Lesson one about Thedas: there's a lot of people looking down at you so you need to just kick the legs out from under them and take none of their shit or you'll be going nowhere in life.
Or you do what the wild untamed Yngvi does: you're Carta right in the marrow of your bones so the lies and the truths all blend together just the right way to make a very distinct and potent vintage.
"Loghain probably isn't, don't know much about politics," he's sort of lying, he knows less about doglord politics than he does about the intricacies of dwarven and Free Marcher politics, and a decent bit of Orlesian because that's where the big money jobs are, "but the whole thing about him being a big dirty traitor probably knocked the polish off. I mean that'd do it, yeah? Civil war in the country you saved once, doesn't look great for a man. Not a human at least. Might get away with that in Orzammar but they're a shower of pricks who'd buy and sell their brother to a genlock if they'd get a good price." He smiles, all teeth, an almost civilised thing like the honey badger someone thought would be fine to bring into the house.
Fishing a treat out of a not nug-filled pocket because he's still finding these things from the days when there was Asher's mabari in his life, he offers it out the pup. Peace offering since no, he really does need all of his nugs. "You sure? Orzammar dwarves and surface dwarves, it's a whole thing. Sure that someone what fell out of a sky vagina," rest in peace Asher, he'll keep calling them that in your memory, "cares about that shit? I mean why would you even care? Dwarves are funny, we all look the same to everyone."