"So you're a sailor," the dwarf muttered. Wyatt, who had been passing the time by playing with the feather in his hat, raised his head and nodded. "And you're a dwarf." "What was your first clue?" The little fellow smirked. "What'd you do?" Wyatt did not see any point in avoiding the question. Lies were told to protect one's future, and Wyatt had no illusions of his. "I'm responsible for destroying Tur Del Fur." The dwarf sat up, interested. "Really? What part?" "The whole city--well, technically all of Delgos, if you think about it. I mean, without the protection of Drumindor, the port is lost and the rest is helpless." "You destroyed an entire country?" "Pretty much." Wyatt nodded miserably, then sighed. The dwarf continued to stare at him, now in fascination. "How about you?" Wyatt asked. "What did you do?" "I tried to steal a dagger." Now it was Wyatt's turn to stare. "Really?" "Sure, but you have to remember--I'm a dwarf. You'll probably get a slap on the wrist. After all, you only destroyed a country. I'll likely be ripped apart by wild dogs."