"Saladin, do you think that guy Clagon is just blowing hot air? If we reach the Giant Dragon Territory and find out he's deceived us, even if you try to stop me, I'll still give him a good kick in the butt!"
A few stout, short dwarves leaned powerlessly against the cabin, their muscular bodies seemed like useless decorations under their withered expressions.
These dwarves, who prefer living in deep underground caves or on high mountains, are each formidable warriors on land, brave and fierce, but at sea, they're like a bunch of weaklings because they get seasick.
Even after some time of adjustment, these dwarves on the ship are as deflated as frostbitten eggplants, lacking their usual vitality.
Saladin, a dwarf with yellow-brown beard braided into neat little plaits, leaned weakly on his large axe, his voice sounding feeble as if he were sick.
