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"Not necessarily!" sang out Tasslehoff, whom I must confess
I'd forgotten. He was on his knees, tapping on the left wall with his
knuckles. Suddenly he looked up at Elistan, reaching for the mace
hanging from the cleric's belt. "May I borrow this?" he asked
politely. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the mace and
smashed it into the icy wall, sending glassy shards flying about the
tunnel.
"Tasslehoff, what on Krynn are you doing?" Laurana
demanded, reaching out to prevent his next swing. She stopped
abrubtly as the kender's blows revealed a hole into another area.
Before she could say more, Tasslehoff hopped through the jagged
opening.
"Tas, wait!" she cried, hurrying after him.
"Oh, no," Sturm muttered, as if this scene were nothing new to
him. Hitching up his gear, he followed the golden-haired elf. The
rest of us hastily followed.
Stepping through the opening, I found the others in a vast room
formed of rough-hewn stone blocks. In one corner was stacked a
pile of dried peat, ready for burning. In another were huge wooden
barrels in neat rows. Weapons and tools hung from racks on the
walls. A dilapidated door swung from one hinge on the wall
opposite me. We seemed to be in some sort of storeroom-but for
whom? A shiver of apprehension raised the hair on my scalp.
"I knew we were overlooking something!" Tasslehoff cried,
scurrying about the room in excitement.
Elistan strode up to the kender, his palm outstretched
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