Humans Are The Real Racists

The merry human bard leapt into the tavern hall. “Good news everyone!”

“Good news? Are we finally ridding ourselves of this prissy Knife-ear?” The dwarf barbarian bellowed, slapping the elf archer on his shoulder.

“Not today” the elf winced, rubbing his arm. “But if Fortune grants us favor, maybe we’ll find a nice hole to lose you in, Tunnelrat.”

“There’s no hole like a warm hole.” The dwarf guffawed. “Any dwarf knows that!”

With withering disdain, the elf averted his gaze.

“Oh, you silly lot.” The bard forced a grin. “But no, we have a new quest from the Adventurer’s guild. And a new associate to aid us—a gnome rogue.”

The elf groaned. “Another anklebiter.”

“Come now,” the bard said. “He’s sure to be an asset to our group.”

“A gnome?! 𝑷𝒕𝒖𝒉!” The dwarf spat on the tavern floor.

The bard blinked. “Really? I thought dwarves liked gnomes. I can hardly tell the two apart…”

“WOAH!” The elf and dwarf exclaimed in unison.

The bard shrunk back. “Wha-what?”

“You can hardly tell them apart?” The elf repeated incredulously.

“W-well, you know,” The bard gestured lamely. “They both live in mountains and caves. They both like gadgets and gizmos and uh…” The bard gulped as the elf shook his head. She couldn’t bear to look at the dwarf, but felt his eyes boring into the side of her skull. “…they’re both short?” She squeaked.

“Short?!” The dwarf roared. “Gnomes are short. The unwashed hair-foots are short. Hell, the filthy goblins and piss-soaked kobolds are short. But not the dwarves!” He beat his fist against his chest. “A dwarf is stout! STOUT!”

“Okay, okay,” the bard put up her hands. “Gnomes and dwarves aren’t the same at all. They’re totally different!”

“That we are!” The dwarf huffed. “And you’ll never speak such tripe again, lest I use your head to plant my axe!”

The elf clicked his tongue. “You humans are all the same, boundless in your ignorance and bigotry. It’s a natural outcome of your miserably short, mayfly lives.”

The dwarf shook his head in agreement.

The bard opened her mouth to protest, but the silhouette of a gnome darkened the doorway.

“A long-shank, a leaf-licker, and a mud-midget, huh?” The gnome scoffed. “At least there’s no pig-shaggin’ half-orcs!” Ω