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S'Lon stretched out the muscles that the loading had tightened and was rubbing abstractly at a slight graze on the side of his hand when the dwarf spoke to him with something other than merely an order.
"Filius," he replied taking the grip with a hand that was equally dirty and sweaty. "Yes, that would be me, S'Lon is the name."
He smiled at the dwarf, assuming that he was understating his role. "Bow is what I do yes, though I can use the long knives when I need to. I need more work on those mind, I'm not good enough with them to make me happy."
He took the chance to look more closely at the dwarf. "How would you like me to work on this trip?"
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