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Pushing his companion ahead of him he charged down
on Wingover, who was just scrambling to his feet. Before
he could get his shield up, the goblins were on him. His
sword impaled one, but the weapon was wrenched aside
as the leader flung the expendable one forward and
raised his axe in both hands.
Dropping sword and shield, Wingover flung himself
upward and grappled the creature. Goblin stench seared
his nostrils as he gripped the axehandle, struggling to
keep it from completing its swing. Goblin teeth snapped
at his throat, grazing the skin. Claws of a goblin hand
raked his face, going for his eyes, and a hard-soled boot
flailed at his legs. He twisted, thrust, and threw the gob-
lin onto its back, going down with it. Instantly, the
locked pair were rolling and bouncing down the slope,
grappling and pummeling as they went.
The broadaxe, jarred free, skidded down the slope
ahead of them and came to rest on the trail. The rolling
combat landed beside it, the goblin on top, going for
Wingover's throat. With a heave, Wingover threw the
creature over his head, spun, and leaped just as the gob-
lin struggled to hands and knees. Straddling the creature,
the man got his toes under the base of its brass chest-
plate, hooked his fingers under the back-plate, and put
all his strength into prying them apart
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