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. "Yoo-hoo!" she called, fluttering her hands in
his direction. His eyes transfixed, Otik scurried to her side. "A man
so important-looking and dignified as you must be the barkeep," she
purred.
Otik's stout body jiggled to a stop, and he grinned like a
lovesick fool. "Uh, yes, I guess I am. Can I be of some assistance? A
room, perhaps? Dinner? Our food is the best in Solace -- all of
southern Ansalon!" he blathered. "I'm sure it is," she said smoothly,
"but perhaps later. Actually, I'm looking for someone. A kender named
Tasslehoff Burrfoot. I was told I might find him here."
The three companions had been watching the whole display. At the
sound of his name, Tasslehoff jumped ex citedly to his feet and raced
up to her. "That's me! I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot! Did I win something?
Are you here to give me my prize?" He paused for a new thought. "Or
did I lose something? Did you lose something?"
"You could say that," the voluptuous dwarf said, running her
gaze over his childlike form. "Can't say I understand what all the
fuss is about," she muttered mysteriously, then latched her
surprisingly strong fingers around his bony wrist.
"You'll have to come with me now, and I'm in a bit of a hurry,"
she said, stepping toward the door. Not quite sure what was happening,
Tasslehoff draped behind her like dead weight. He dug his heels into
the floor. "Well, come along," she chided, "I haven't got all year."
With that she tugged him toward the door.
"Wait a minute!" he blurted
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