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. I've heard a
dozen predictions, just since I arrived here, that Ansalon
will be overrun by war within two years. Some say less
time than that. The seers have been studying omens and
comparing notes, along with some of the mages. But not
one has any idea who, or what, may be involved in the
war if the time should come. Ah, me. What's a poor
trader to make of it all?"
Wingover grinned at the dwarf. "Every profit the mar-
ket will bear, as usual. Speaking of which, I'm ready to
collect on our bet, in case you've forgotten." He held out
his hand, palm up.
"Corrosion!" Goldbuckle snapped. 'That's a lot of
money. Do you think all I have to do is snap my fingers
old -
Wingover nodded. 'You old skinflint, that's no more
than petty coin to you, and you know it. So hand it over,
and I'll stand the first round at the Flying Pigs. Garon
will meet us there, and we can compare goblin stories
and sinister rumors."
Still the dwarf hesitated, and Wingover crossed his
arms on the table. "If you're thinking about trying for
double or nothing, forget it," the human said. "Of
course, now, if you'd like to just keep your coins and
cancel my debt of service instead...."
"I can't do that," the dwarf muttered. "Oh, very well!"
Without looking around he raised a sturdy arm and
snapped his fingers
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