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" - drink for drink," continued the dwarf imperturbably,
"until your beardless chins hit the floor."
"It'll be your beard and not our chins that hits the floor,
dwarf," Sturm said. "What stakes?"
Dougan Redhammer pondered. "The winner has the very
great satisfaction of assisting the losers to their beds," he
said, after a pause, twirling a long moustache around his
finger.
"And loser pays the tabs for all," added Tanin.
"Done," said the dwarf, with a grin, holding out his hand.
"Done," said Tanin and Sturm together. Each shook
Dougan's hand, then the dwarf turned to Palin, his hand
outstretched.
"I want no part of this!" Palin said emphatically, glaring
at his brothers. "Tanin," he said in a low voice, "think of
our funds. If you lose, we - "
"Little Brother," Tanin interrupted, flushing in anger,
"next journey, remind me to leave you home and bring
along a cleric of Paladine! We'd get preached at less and
probably have more fun."
"You have no right to talk to me that way - " Palin
retorted.
"Ah, it must be all three of you," Dougan interrupted,
shaking his head, "or the bet's off. There's no challenge in a
dwarf outdrinking two humans. And it must be dwarf
spirits. Why, the lad might as well be drinking his mother's
milk as that elf water!" (ELF WATER - a name dwarves use
for wine, which they can't abide
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