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. Wingover
picked up his sword and braced himself, estimating how
long it would take for the dwarves to reach safety under
the mountain.
Chapter 32
An eerie darkness walked across the land, a
darkness of writhing black clouds that swirled and
coiled, defeating the sunlight. West of the bridge, Sky's
End was veiled, its slopes immersed in flowing darkness.
To the east, the breaks, the low hills, and the vast plains
beyond were a dancing mosaic of deepening shadow. To-
ward Skullcap the clouds circled and tumbled in upon
themselves, twisting in clockwise rotation as the de-
scending belly of the storm dropped lower and lower, be-
coming a funnel miles across. Above the gorge winds
swept down from mountain passes and howled in murky
glee.
Wingover set his sword upright against a stone and
used his right hand to lift his left arm, shield and all, until
the flinthide's edge was just below his eyes. With a strip
of fabric from his tunic he tied the useless arm in place,
then retrieved his sword.
The woman in the horned helmet gazed up at him, her
pose arrogant, speculative. After a moment she called, "I
want the thing you brought from Dergoth! Give it to
me!"
Wingover waited
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