"I don't know, Lord Dace," Stalas says with a smile. "I haven't given extensive thought to that particular issue. It seems to me that a little time spent under a ceiling of air is a small thing for a dwarf's fate to turn on. We allow the brave warriors who guard our gates to leave and return without forfeiting their caste, and we have sent forces in the past to aid our honourable friends, the Grey Wardens, without exiling the troops or their commanders. Who's to say that a merchant venture, for example, should not be similarly permissible? After all, we depend on trade with the surface to bring us some of our finest food and clothing. But the ancestors made this rule, and I must assume they had a good reason, even if I don't yet know what it is. Perhaps after tomorrow's battle I'll consult the Shaperate to find out more, and return to you with a better-founded opinion."