THORFINN. Well said! Fetch some ale, wife, and let's be merry.
ORM. And we'll thank the gods who saved us.
THORFINN. When will you ever outgrow those sagas, Orm?
ORM. Why do you force your wife and daughter to believe in them?
THORFINN. Women folk should have gods.
ORM. Whom do you believe helped you out there in the storm?
THORFINN. I helped myself.
ORM. And yet you cried out to Ake-Thor when the big wave swallowed you.
THORFINN. There you lie.
ORM. Orm never lies.