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. He stood near an open trap door, peering over his
spectacles at the dragon.
"Comeon, comeon, thedragonnevercomesbackby-
itself. Youmightaswellshowyourself."
Tas watched from behind the dragon, fascinated. He
knew that kender were distantly related to gnomes, and
he could see a little of it in this one's slender hands.
"You really should speak more slowly, particularly if
you're going to be that bossy," said Tasslehoff, stepping
around into the gnome's view, followed by Woodrow.
"Oh ho!" chortled the gnome. "We seem to have an air-
sick human and a short, wrinkly, humanoid thing.
Hmmm, wrinkles, topknot, rude, lots of pouches and
pockets, short; must be either a kender or a meerkimo.
No, meerkimos have been extinct since before the Cata-
clysm. Must be a kender. We've been looking for one of
those for decades -- not many of them around here. You
might as well come in; no sense standing around up here
exposed to damaging sunlight."
"Tasslehoff Burrfoot," said the kender politely, extend-
ing his hand. "And you are -- ?" The gnome took his
hand, peered at it intently, found it empty, and dropped
it without interest. Turning, the gnome clomped back
down the staircase and out of sight.
Tas and Woodrow stood for a moment, trying to di-
gest what was happening to them. The gnome's face re-
appeared above the stairs briefly. "Come on, I said.
There's no other way down except the quick way," he
noted, looking over the side of the tower. "And very few
specimens of any sort choose that
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