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. Fabric covered four sides of the bas-
ket's six, with the front and rear remaining open.
The gnome scampered on ahead of them and was
busily tying one end of a long, thin rope to the thing's
nose when the dwarf, human, and elf arrived. All
around the meadow, but holding their distance, people
of several races waited, curious to see what might
happen next.
"Polish and shine!" Jilian chattered as she walked
around the contrivance. "Isn't this pretty? What is it?"
"It's my soarwagon," the gnome said. "Please stand
back. You, bring your horse around here in front, and get
mounted. I'm almost ready."
What is it supposed to do?- Jilian asked.
"It's supposed to fly," the gnome snapped, momentar-
ily losing his composure. He sighed and took a deep
breath. "That's why I brought it here. To let people see it
fly, so I can sell it and make some more of them. I intend
to go into the soarwagon business."
"Well, we know what it won't do," Wingover told the
elf. "Fly." He did, though, lead his horse to the front of
the contrivance, and stepped into the saddle. "Don't
worry about it, horse," Wingover muttered. "That thing
will fall apart in about ten steps, then we can get on with
what we came for." The gnome scampered to him,
looped his rope, and raised it
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