'The Coin spins, Kruppe, still spins.' The spokesman's face lost its humour.

Kruppe sighed. He handed the chunk of goat cheese to the man seated on his right. 'Kruppe hears it,' he conceded wearily. 'He cannot help but hear it. An endless ringing that sings in the head. And for all that Kruppe has seen, for all that he suspects to be, he is just Kruppe, a man who would challenge the gods in their own game.'

'Perhaps we are your Doubts,' the spokesman said, 'which you have never been afraid to face before, as you do now. Yet even we seek to turn you back, even we demand that you strive for the life of Darujhistan, for the life of your many friends, and for the life of the youth at whose feet the Coin shall fall.'

'It falls this very night,' Kruppe said. The six beggars nodded at this, though mostly they remained intent on the bread and cheese. 'Shall Kruppe accept this challenge, then? What are gods, after all, if not the perfect victims?' He smiled, raising his hands and fluttering his fingers. 'For Kruppe, whose sleight of hand is matched only by his sleight of mind? Perfect victims of confidence, claims Kruppe, ever blinded by arrogance, ever convinced of infallibility. Is it not a wonder that they have survived this long?'

The spokesman nodded and said, around a mouthful of cheese, 'Perhaps we are your Gifts, then. Wasting away, as it were.'

'Possibly,' Kruppe said, his eyes narrowing. 'Yet only one of you speaks.'

The beggar paused to swallow, then he laughed, his eyes dancing in the candlelight. 'Perhaps the others have yet to find their voice, Kruppe. They await only their master's command.'

'My,' Kruppe sighed, as he prepared to stand, 'but Kruppe is full of surprises.'

The spokesman looked up. 'You return to Darujhistan?'

'Of course,' Kruppe replied, gaining his feet with a heartfelt groan. 'He merely stepped out for a breath of night air, so much cleaner beyond the city's crumbling walls, don't you agree? Kruppe must needs exercise to hone his already prodigious skills. A walk in his sleep. This night,' he said, hitching his thumbs in his belt, 'the Coin falls. Kruppe must take his place in the centre of things. He returns to his bed, the night still young.' His eyes travelled among the beggars. All seemed to have gained weight, a healthy robust colour to their upturned faces. Kruppe sighed with satisfaction. 'It has, pronounces Kruppe, been a pleasure, gentlemen. Next time, however, let us settle on an inn that is not on a hilltop. Agreed?'

The spokesman smiled. 'Ah, but, Kruppe, Gifts are not easily attained, nor are Virtues, nor are Doubts easily overcome, and Hungers are ever the impetus to climbing.'

Kruppe's eyes narrowed on the man. 'Kruppe is too clever by far,' he muttered.