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I looked over at the wall mirror then and saw all three
feet nine inches of me in the candlelight, with my dark
brown hair combed out and bound in a high tassel and my
gray robes with the nice silver borders and my writing paper
and once-holy symbol and official steel pen. It was strange,
because I didn't look like me, and that made me feel funny.
I looked like a kender I didn't quite know.
Ark stood behind me, and in the candlelight he looked
old, and that made me feel funny, too. He's about average
in size for a human and is almost bald and has a hooked
nose and a potbelly, and I knew who he was, but just then
he didn't look much like the man who had raised me and
told me funny stories when I was sick and took me fishing
and bailed me out of jail every so often. Maybe it was the
hour, but he looked old and tired, like something was both
ering him. I worry about him sometimes.
Ark sighed after a moment and said, "Well, let's get
started. I've got a lot of work to do today - and so do you,
of course." Then he put his hand on my head and used
some big words that I didn't know, but you probably do,
and when he was done, he said, "Walnut, you are now my
official field recorder. Your mission is to go out among the
people of Newshore and record all things of importance. I
know I can trust you to do a good job. Don't come back
until sundown, stay out of jail, take lots of notes, don't
upset anyone, and let me get my correspondence done. I'm
a little behind, and Astinus will use my skin for book
covers if I don't get those reports to him
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