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."
"What?" Sturm sat up, blinking drowsily.
"You can't do this!" roared the dwarf.
"Look, Dougan Redhammer!" Tanin said, bending down
and staring the dwarf grimly in the eye. "I'm hung over,
seasick, and I haven't had anything to eat all day. I've been
doused with water, hit by fish, run over by a sail, and bored
to death by kids' bedtime stories! I don't believe you, I don't
believe your stupid quest." Tanin paused, seething, and
raised a finger, shaking it at the dwarf's nose. "I'm going to
sleep where I want to sleep and tomorrow, when I'm feeling
better, I swear by the gods I'm going to make these little
bastards turn this ship around and take us back home!"
"And if I stop you?" Dougan threatened with a leer, not
at all disconcerted by Tanin's rage.
"Then there'll be a new figurehead on which ever end of
this stupid boat is the front!" Tanin hissed through clenched
teeth. "And it'll have a long, black beard!" Angrily, the big
man stalked over to the lean-to and ducked inside. Sleepily,
Sturm followed.
"If I were you, Dougan," Palin muttered, hurrying after
them, "I'd keep out of his way! He's quite capable of doing
what he says."
"Is he, lad? I'll keep that in mind," the dwarf replied,
tugging thoughtfully at his beard
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