An idea: What if dwarf bars could gradually develope their own sortof personality? Not in a sentient way at all, but suppose the dwarfs that frequented the bars you built, and the events around them, had an effect on the ambiance of the place?
Maybe the types of drinks that were served there-and if/what food was served-along with the level of lighting, entertainment (Is some fancy elf playing a full harp in the corner, or is the "entertainment" a pit-fight?), the possibility of bar fights randomly breaking out, along with how drunk or rowdy the patrons allow themselves to get--and allow newcomers to get before kicking them out; and infact, the types of newcomers who are easily accepted into the bar, could be charted, and then gradually modified over time.
This could start out based on how close the bar was to other types of buildings, and then the random personalities of the dwarfs who drink there--and how long they've drank there (the bar-wise oldtimers), along with how respected they are by the other patrons.
As that happened over time, maybe things like bar songs, special games and bar traditions, and even decorations for the bar, could be added. Special microbrews might even come out of the bar, over time, allowing a popular hometown bar to have a fairly wide economic reach.
Maybe there could be a special tool you could use on smooth sections of stone that would allow your dwarfs to choose for themselves whether they want to engrave a wall or not, and to replace the engravings of other dwarfs, over time (hey they're dwarfs, so they should have the occasional reality-straining powers over stone), so that you could get a sort of stone graffiti going, as a way of tracking how dwarfs choose to express themselves in their own personal time.
That could then be extended to carving on tables and other furniture, and objects in general, and this could be done not only in the dwarf's favorite bar, but in their homes, as well. They might even come to prefer similar styles and decorations.
Maybe you could even create a special space that you're leaving unoccupied incase that bar ever wants to install a commemorative statue, or something. The bar's clientelle, or perhaps the barkeep, could then, years down the line, decide they want to honor their local miners with a rocksalt statue. They would then donate to the statue fund, based on their own personalities and how much wealth each dwarf could spare, and when they had enough, one of them could then purchase such a statue from one of your local merchants, and an Announcement could then come up in the game to tell you that there was a statue ready for you to place in SudsyBeards.
Such a statue might then become a target for a rival bar, in which case, you might want a small squad of soldiers/watchdwarfs/hammerers to protect it, or you might not personally like the statue, in which case you might cause it to be lost or destroyed--causing some hurt feelings, but saving the dwarfs money, or the statue might itself become a major bar fixture.
You might even decide to secretly order a compartment for buried treasure under the statue, unbeknownst to the dozens of dwarfs who drink only feet away from it every night--and known only for a short while by the recent migrant you ordered to build it, before silencing the unfortunate with lava, and adding a bit of sinister history/mystery to the place.
The place might even contain a whole series of trapdoors and underground chambers you could use to Shanghai unwary dwarfs--or perhaps just travelers of other species--for dark goings-on right under the noses of your unsuspecting citizens.
And ofcourse, everyone knows that inns, taverns, and bars are gateways to adventure in general, in a fantasy world, so the impact of a special bar might come to affect your whole game--and give greater emotional impact to the game, at the same time. After all, how much do you really care when a berserk dwarf knocks over a random loom?
Change that loom into a cozy old tavern where you met your wife and where the reception was held, and it's where you drank you very first beer with your grandfather 30 years ago, when he and his World War 2 buddies always got together there every other Saturday, and his picture's on the wall in uniform, and so is your wife in her wedding dress with all her bridesmaids, and hey maybe it's the place where your favorite cousin always insists the jalapeno popper was invented, and suddenly it becomes more than just a random building.
Change it into a rough-and-tumble watering-hole for bandits and pirates, a haunted hotel still groaning from the weight of past misdeeds, or a wondrously exotic caravansarai where the most fanciful of drinks are served up-front, and where pleasures and vices rarer still can be bartered for in back booths screened with shadows and silk; and it can make the whole town around it all the more special.