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"Rust and tarnish!" Chane stared at the advancing
monster. The thing was tall enough to reach him with
its club, even from the path below the rock where he
still crouched. And it was coming fast. He fingered the
hilt of his sword, then decided against it and unslung his
hammer.
"Kharas aid me now," the dwarf breathed.
Backing up a step from the edge of the rock, Chane
glanced quickly at its moonlit top, then knelt and swung.
He struck stone with the spike-end of his hammer. Again
he swung. Then the dwarf ducked as a hand the size of
his back appeared above the stone and swung a massive
club that whuffed over him.
Chane's hammer rang again on the surface of the
stone, and again. The great club rose above him and de-
scended, crunching into the stone beside him with a
sound of thunder. Again the cudgel was raised aloft, and
this time Chane had to throw himself to one side as it
smashed down where he had been. He rolled, righted
himself, and swung his hammer again. The weapon's
spike sank into stone, making another hole in a precise
line of holes that - he hoped - followed a faint flaw line
in the rock.
Just beyond and below the rock outcrop, the ogre
leaped upward. For an instant its eyes were level with
Chane's. The dwarf dodged, and the club descended
again, raising a cloud of stonepowder
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