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"That's very kind of you. By the way, is there a Baron-
ess Krakbolder?" she asked bluntly.
"You could say that, yes," the baron said, his eyes twin-
kling at the dwarf's frankness.
Gisella winked at him, nonplused. "A minor point, re-
ally." She pushed a hand through her matted hair and
straightened her clothing, although she still looked like
someone who had been through a shipwreck. The red-
haired dwarf looped her arm through Baron Krakold's.
Giving her hand a fatherly pat, the baron withdrew his
arm reluctantly. "Not to my wife, it isn't." he laughed.
Gisella's face pouted a little.
"Be of good cheer!" he said. "It is not often we have
such unusual visitors in Rosloviggen. We are eager to
hear how you came to our land."
"I can tell you that," Tasslehoff offered. "I was sitting in
the Inn of the Last Home, and --"
"He meant me, and he meant later," Gisella said
tersely.
Tasslehoff pulled a sullen face. "I don't remember him
being that specific," he said. "I'm just as unusual as you
are, Gisella, and I've done some interesting things, too."
"I'll just bet you have," the baron said kindly, "and I'd
like to hear all about them after we've all had a chance to
rest. My trip to the shore has drained me more than I
thought it would."
"Look at that!" Tasslehoff cried. His attention was riv-
eted on a large, circular platform with a round, pointed
roof. A menagerie of brightly painted animals carved
from wood crowded the platform. Each animal was
mounted on a pole that ran from the platform to the
roof
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