Anslen comes out of his room, leaving some of his supplies in the room. Walking along the deck he looks at the clouds covering the horizon; he pulls up his hood over his head and grumbles to himself, "Dwarves were meant to stay under the ground or at least on top of it; not on some floating wood in a tossing sea. Uh, what have I got myself into here? There had better be a great feast waiting for me in the mountains when I get there."