Humans may dwell here

-Yeah, so the king basically takes a huge tribute from you, bathes in gold himself, while you live in your huts all your life and don't see the light of day? - the questioner smirked.
-But that's nonsense. - The Dagor suddenly got angry and slammed his fist on the table, causing it to creak noticeably. An eerie silence fell in the room. After draining his mug in one mighty gulp, Vsevolod wiped his beard and mustache and glared at the stunned little man. -If the king-father deigns to demand money, then it is for our benefit. God knows, we don't need so much money anyway. As they say, wealth breeds greed and evil. Our king, may God grant him good health, cares about his loyal subjects and protects us, so to speak, from sin and vice. As for the rest, you understand, this wonderful drink is made from our hops and barley, grown in our fields, and cultivated by our hands. That's what it is.