Gamba skidded out the door, nodded at a startled grey-clad waiter, found his way through the kitchen and out an open window. He melted into the evening shadows, and was still. He listened for pursuit, and was almost disappointed that he heard none. Still, having been seen leaving, the last place he would be searched for was back inside. So he slowly made his way around to the front door again.
When another guest arrived, he melted into the inn behind them, tasking advantage of the smoky gloom. He slipped under a table, and listened, and shared several unsuspecting customer's drinks.
[ November 22, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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