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. Neither had any-
thing definite to report, only various versions of the
same stories. Something very ominous was happening
somewhere far to the north, but nobody had any very
clear idea of what it was.
Jilian listened for a time, then said, "That sounds a lit-
tle like Chanc's dream. It told him that bad times are
coming, and that it's his destiny to protect Thorbardin.
That's why he's out looking for a helmet."
Garon looked at her, then at Wingover.
The human spread his hands and shook his head.
"That's why I'm going back north," he grumped. "Be-
cause some dwarf had a dream about a helmet."
"Oh, not just one dream," Jilian corrected. "He's had
the same dream for years. It's only lately that it told him
what he is supposed to do. It's his destiny."
"Then why do you want to interfere?" the elf asked.
"Oh, I don't want to interfere, just... well, he proba-
bly needs help. The guards who went with him came
back, and I learned they had robbed him and left him
alone in the wilderness. But we'll find him, and he'll be
all right. Rogar Goldbuckle says Wingover is a very re-
sourceful person... even if he is human."
"Resourceful. Hmph!" Wingover snorted dismally.
"I'm resourceful, all right. A resource that old villain has
mined to its limit
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