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. Slightly away from the two, a third limp form lay
spread across the ground, a gaping wound in the stomach
his undoing.
Of the remaining four minotaurs, not one had escaped
some sort of injury. The leader sported a jagged cut on his
right arm, made just before the final thrust of his own
weapon. Two of the others, covered with minor cuts, were
attempting to remove part of a wooden stake from the leg of
the third. Torbin's companion had more than accounted for
himself.
After assisting the minotaur with the leg wound aboard the
boat, the other three quietly turned to the task of picking up
the dead. They carried both of their fallen comrades to the
vessel, but completely ignored the remaining corpse.
Torbin could stand no more. He had sworn that he
would not interfere, and he had not. The pure callousness of
the man-beasts, however, had shaken him completely. He
pulled forth his sword and stepped forward, shouting such
violent curses at them that they could not possibly pretend
to not hear.
At first he thought they would all come charging at him.
The leader, though, raised his good arm and prevented any
movement by his warriors. Alone, he walked calmly over to
the knight.
"We have no quarrel with you, Knight of Solamnia
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