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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Trouvere" data-source="post: 4295497" data-attributes="member: 37250">Gildrim sits drumming his fingers loudly on the table and breathing heavily through his nose.   "Willnae, will nae!" he interjects as Cyian relays the question he intended not to ask."Alricht," he says, pushing back his chair and standing up.  "Aw fowk ken that th' purest Dwairrrven is spoken by th' dwarves ay Clan Nurazak, an' mebbe it teenges ur Common tay.  But if ye cannae unnerstaund th' leid ay ain ay th' fower great peoples ay th' Enworld – dwairrves, humans, halflin's an' gnomes – weeel, that's a puir look-oot."  "An' fowk shuid be mair acceptin'!  An awfu lot ay dwarves wha come up frae thair mines tae gae adventurin' ur jes' semple axe-swingers an' cannae speak ony ither way… an' fowk get th' wrang idea aboot aw dwarves frae them.  They hear an accen', an' they think 'anaither glaikit beardie.'"He pauses for breath, refills his mouth with lizard-meat, then, chewing, cocks his head on one side to listen."Do you hear that clonking sound?  That's the axes and armour of my forefathers banging on the sides as they spin around in their tombs, seeing Gildrim have to talk like a pretty elven princeling just to be understood.  La-di-dah!""Now, I don't know about you lot, but I'm going to the temple.  To pray for forgiveness for you all."On the way out, he gives Soren a friendly wink.</blockquote>