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. Feal-Thas appeared to enjoy playing with her,
seeming to delight in parrying her waning blows without striking
back.
Elistan, whose strategy so far had been to stay out of the way of
the fighters in the small chamber, could hold back no longer.
Seeing Laurana alone, he hurled himself at the wizard, bashing
him repeatedly in the back with his mace. Though the attack
caught him unaware, Feal-Thas used his magic to toss the cleric
from him as he would a fly. A huge, phantom hand reached out,
grabbed the cleric, and threw him aside. Elistan slammed into the
far wall and slid silently to the floor.
And there I stood, rooted to the spot, useless as a dwarven
doorknob. What had my strategy-my excuse-been? I wasn't
even watching our rear anymore. What could I do? I remembered
the kender- where was he? He'd come through for me before,
tripping the minotaur. But he was nowhere to be seen. There
weren't any barrels here to save my unworthy life.
I watched in despair as Laurana, exhausted from her lone
struggle, dropped to one knee. She tried desperately to regain her
footing, but Feal-Thas leaned forward and plucked the sword from
her bloodstained, aching hands. Eyes dim with angry tears, she
swung desperately at him with her fist. The dark elf grabbed her
wrist and laughed.
"What a pity," he murmured, the patronizing sound of victory
in his voice. He held the tip of her own sword to the throbbing
vein in her throat
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