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"Where are we?" asked one.
"Why are we dressed like this?" asked another, staring
at the tiger skin.
"How dare you?" cried the blonde, slapping Sturm
across the face.
Only the dark-haired beauty seemed sad. Shaking her head,
she said with a sigh, "I miss my family," she said softly.
"And I remember him that I love and am betrothed to
marry. But it will start all over again. The eternal wars. The
fighting, the bleeding, the dying . . ."
She turned to the god, only to find no one but a flashily
dressed dwarf, who smiled at her in understanding.
"Think a moment, lassie," said Dougan kindly, patting
her hand. "You've read the books, remember? And so have
they." He pointed at the others. "You have knowledge now.
No one can take that from you. Use it wisely, and you can
stop the senseless wars. You and the others, with the help
of your menfolk and your children, can make this island a
paradise."
"I don't know who you are," the dark-haired beauty said,
gazing at the dwarf in wonder, "but you are wise. We will
do as you say. And we will honor you always, in our hearts
and our prayers." (And so the islanders prayed to a
dwarven god, becoming the only humans, as far as any one
knows, to once again worship Reorx, the Forger of the
World
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