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. So what?"
The first voice chuckled. "You got no imagination,
Grum." A homy hand lifted the dagger. "Nice piece." The
dagger, after being flipped over twice, found itself tucked
inside ill-fitting body armor.
The goblin's body was rank, but it was flesh. The
dagger, still too weak to attack, lay hungrily beside the fat-
laden rib cage, waiting.
It did not wait long. There was the sound of a door
creaking open and of goblin voices. "The Seekers demand
right of entry."
The second voice: "This place is empty. Let's move on."
"You got no imagination, Grum. Here's our chance to
pick up a few pieces of silver."
Another light flared, seeping around the armor cracks.
Both goblins screamed, and suddenly their bodies seemed
to leap together, then collapse. From the floor, the dagger
heard a muffled voice, then a deeper one say, "I'm afraid
so. I hit them too hard."
After more muffled talk, the light died and there was
the sound of feet running to and fro, furniture overturning,
and finally silence. The dagger waited as long as it could
bear, but even indoors the goblin's corpse was cooling.
With its talons stretched as far as they would go, it slid
itself bit by bit under the body's ribs, into the goblin's black
heart
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