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.
"And why not?" the ogre demanded, gnarly hands on
his hips.
"Not now, Phineas," hissed Trapspringer. As a rule,
the elder kender wasn't particularly cautious. But he was
a little concerned that the human's rising hysteria might
bring an abrupt end to what might prove to be a very in-
teresting experience -- the remainder of his life.
"What Phineas means," Trapspringer explained, "is
that we wouldn't want to intrude or take advantage of
your good nature."
The ogre smiled broadly, displaying a mouthful of un-
even, jagged, and broken teeth. "You wouldn't be intrud-
ing! I love company! That's why I'm here!"
"You're here just for the company?" Even Trapspringer
was confused by that.
Vinsint put a whole golden, dried fish on each of four
tin plates. "Indirectly, yes. You see, many years ago, I
came to this area with a raiding party from the Ogre-
lands, just north and east of here." He ladled a steaming
white sauce over the fish. "I was wounded by an arrow
from one of my own people, and they left me to die, I
don't know how long I lay there, delirious with pain.
"Anyway, the next thing I knew, I was lying in the
softest bed on Krynn. Some kender had found me,
brought me to their home just beyond the Ruins, and
were healing me with herbs." Vinsint's eyes misted over
with the warm memory. He shook his head happily, and
a tear splashed onto a plate.
'My wound was serious and took a long time to heal.
The kender treated me like family and taught me their
language, which answers your earlier question," Vinsint
said, looking at the blond-haired female
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