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. But then, I
don't mind. He staked me when I needed it most... I
owe him a service whenever he decides to call on me.
Probably wind up some day fighting a trader's duel with
somebody too big for an old dwarf to handle."
They stripped the goblin of his armor and threw it
away. No human or elf would ever willingly put the
smelly, tarnished armor next to his own skin.
Garon Wendesthalas used strong rope to bind the
creature hand and foot, then drew a slim, needle-pointed
dagger and set its hilt in a crack in the stone path, the
~1;:v'e pointing straight up. As the goblin regained con-
sciousness, hissing and cursing, the elf rolled him over
onto his belly, dragged him forward, and lifted his head
so that his right eye was directly over the dagger's point.
Wingover watched, fascinated. "What are you doing!"
"Creatures of darkness cherish their eyes," the elf said.
Holding the goblin's round head in a strong grip, he said,
"Tell us now, goblin... why are you here? Who sent
you?
"You can fry in molten stone, elf!" The goblin tried to
twist away and could not. "I won't tell you anything.
I'll--"
Gyron shrugged and pushed the head down. The gob-
lin's scream was a shrill hiss, echoing from mountain-
side.". Matter-of-factly, Garon raised the round head and
repositioned it
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