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. "We're chiefs of our people. We
have - er, had - villages a mile apart in the Vale of Res-
pite. That's the next valley over. His people are herders.
Mine are growers. Or were." He looked around, blank-
eyed. "I guess what you see is all that are left."
Chane stopped just a few paces from the leaders, look-
ing from one to the other. "What happened?"
"They fell on us just at daybreak," the dwarven chief
said. "An army of goblins and several ogres. First my vil-
lage, then Camber's. We didn't have a chance."
"We fought," the man corrected. "For three days, we
fought, first in the villages, then retreating up the slopes.
But there were too many of them, and we weren't pre-
pared for defense. There haven't ever been goblins
around here, and not many ogres."
"But there are now," Fleece growled.
Chane stared at them bewildered. "What did they
want? Why did they attack you?"
"Base for the Commander," the dwarven chief said.
"One of my herders hid in a ravine and heard some of
them talking. That's what they said. 'The Vale of Respite
would serve as a base for the Commander.' And they
were taking slaves."
"Is that why they followed you over the ridge?" Chane
asked.
"Ogres followed," the dwarven chief muttered. "Two
of them, at least, though one may have stopped to tor-
ture a few of our people who fell behind
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