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. Slowly, the bulges flattened out, and the spine-chilling
sound ceased. Before Flint could comprehend the meaning
of the macabre scene, the troll became aware of him again.
Its eyes locked onto Flint as it leaped to its feet. Dropping to
a fighting crouch, the creature danced toward Flint on two
good legs! The limb, crushed to bonemeal a moment before,
had somehow grown firm and again supported the beast's
weight.
"Holy gods of old - you can regenerate!" Flint cried, flab-
bergasted. The troll slashed with its viciously clawed hand
again, but Flint came out of his stupor long enough to knock
the digits away with his axe. Striking quickly, he lopped the
troll's hand off. It made a sickening spraying sound, thick
green blood spurting in a steady stream. Flint cast an anx-
ious eye down the slope for Basalt. His nephew was vaulting
upward as quickly as he could, panting with exertion, short
sword extended. But he was still some distance below.
The monster seemed more stunned than tortured at the
loss of its hand. Flint pressed the advantage, hacking with
his axe, driving the monster back
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