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. The man had been a
hard-drinking mercenary who had retired from fighting and
carousing. His small alehouse had become a comfortable
club for many adult dwarves, including Flint and Aylmar.
Flint wondered if the human were still about.
With a sense of relief he started toward the familiar door-
way. He made his way around the ruts in the street and
shouldered his way through the thick crowd in Moldoon's.
The hill dwarf's eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness, and
he saw with relief that the place had not changed all that
much.
When designing his saloon, Moldoon had realized that
most of his patrons would be short-statured dwarves, yet he
wanted a place that was comfortable for himself as well. He
neither made it human-sized (though other people would
have gotten sport out of watching dwarves scrabbling for
doorknobs and seats), nor did he make it dwarf-sized (he,
himself, would look silly on a too-small chair). What he did
do was make all tables and chairs adjustable with just a turn
of the top; all doors had two knobs on each side. The bar it-
self had two levels: the right side to the patrons was dwarf-
height, and the left was human-height
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