Deny your inability to drink that much.

You're not a thirty something anymore, and you've literally been given the body by whatever god it is that sent you here. Perhaps your drinking tolerance has gone the way of your body? It's not much of a stretch, really. An added plus being you get to rib the dwarf a little if you actually manage to finish the beverage without dropping half way through. Thoroughly convinced by yourself, you tell the dwarf you're more than capable of fucking up your liver without his assistance.

"Heh, I like yr' attitude, boy! An eager drinker is an eager guest, from what 've learned." He says this with much cheer, glad you're as into it as he is. Perhaps he would be open to telling you a few things about the dungeon? You'd probably stand a better chance should you go down there if you were to have some background knowledge on it's entrails. Sadly you forget to ask about this, given how absolutely smashed you after an hour or two of the dwarf telling you able something nebulous to what you had in mind. Never the less, you find yourself having a lot of fun just drinking and shooting the shit with this old man. Eventually you and your newfound friend find yourselves staring at the bottom of the large cups you started the conversation with. This isn't enough to stop the fun, though, the dwarf retrieving more drink from his stash and returned soon.

"Ha! Never seen such a champ at drinkn' from a human! You sure ya 'aint part dwarf? 'Cause 'ya could fool the best of us!" It's clear by his words that he is enjoying this time with you just as much as you are. "S-sorry old man... But I'm full human! Guess you were wrong about my drinkin' skills, heh?" You say this with a slight slur, on the very edge of losing your ability to form normal sentences due to the ****, already stuttering slightly. Saying this, you can't help but notice how the muscles in his beefy, muscular chest and stocky arms stretch and contract with every sip he takes of his ale. "If I had muscles like that I wouldn't mind be-being part dwarf though!" You saying this in a slightly drunken haze leaves the older man blushing slightly, probably not used to comments given his seclusion.

"Heh. Don't go sayin' somethin' ya' don't mean, now. I apprecia-" "But I do mean it!" You quickly interject with confidence. "You're a, You're... a total dilf! Yea, t-total dilf material right here." This comes out of your mouth pretty liberally, lubricated by your drinking.

"Not sure 'm following ya, care to share what a "dilf" is?" Is his only reaction, said with much confusion but also a bit of husky lust present in his voice. "HA! Sorry, Sorry. Dilf means, um, fuck," With your head tipsy, you're stuck with the meaning on the tip of your tongue. But this is soon changed when you once again take in his beefy physic. "OH! dilf means, uh. Dilf means "Dwarf I wanna fuck!"" You say this with all the confidence in your body, Drunk you proud that you remembered. "You're sexy as hell, old man!"

The dwarf doesn't retort for a few seconds, surprised by your bold proclamation. He only breaks his silence by asking "What do ya' find sexy 'bout me, Human? I don't think dwarfs are considered very attractive by human standards." He's clearly very interested in where this conversation in going, and you see his hand sink below the table in what you assume is him palming his bulge.