â€œI know everybodyâ€™s name,â€ was the answer he offered instead of the whole truth. Not that the trickster ever told the whole truth. There was no fun in that and no lesson either. â€œBut Iâ€™m no one special. Just an old story teller. Some call me Roland.â€ Though Roland looked far from old, no one could deny that he was a splendid teller of tales. He had been tempted to launch into another one, but that would be telling. Not to mention, he wasnâ€™t â€“ never had been â€“ interested in stories of the past, only this one here and now.<br/><br/>So he laughed again and shook his head. â€œNot many girls around hereâ€¦ like youâ€¦ that go around dressed in deerskin Lily. How do you think I know you?â€ It wasnâ€™t a lie of course. It was a truth and a question. No doubt they were phrased so closely to make her think wrongly about how he knew. That was one of Rolandâ€™s tricks though. Trick and lesson both, really. Annoying as it could be, he was full of them. Harmless mostly, meant to amuse him more often than not.<br/><br/>It was the big ones that were trouble for all involved. The big lies and big tricks that he always got out of but had been known to leave companions and friends dead. Good thing the old trickster seemed to get over those unfortunate times very quickly.