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. The day's events had piled up unexpectedly,
leaving him with no time to perform a preventative spell or
even to think to use his teleportation ring.
Dragging the clubbed foot behind him even more than
usual, the adviser to Thane Realgar was relieved to see the
iron door to his apartments, with its gleaming brass hinges
and its embossed image of a huge, leering face, looming
ahead in the dim torchlight. He hated all torchlight - hated
the policy of low-burning flares on all of the public roads
and levels in Theiwar City. Through meditation and height-
ened magic, he was able to see even better without it than
most derro. On impulse, he mumbled a single word,
"shival!" and waved his arm impatiently. For as far as he
could see - more than one hundred feet - torches were in-
stantly extinguished, trailing smoke and hissing.
Pitrick's eyes quickly adjusted to the comfortable total
darkness. His soft, callus-free, blue-white hand came upon
the multifaceted diamond doorknob and, as always, its
cool, perfect surface gave him a feeling of tremendous secu-
rity. A magical blast of lightning struck dead anyone but
himself or of his choice who touched the knob
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