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. He thought how that red-haired halfbreed
wench must be laughing at his failure, and his rage became
supreme. Pitrick turned back slowly, his unblinking eyes
locked on the Aghar. Too-thee twisted and squirmed back-
ward as the savant crept closer.
"I will kill you first," he hissed. "But you are just the begin-
ning. Your entire thieving, conniving clan will be wiped out.
I'll kill every one of them, one at a time, with my own hands
if I must. But I will have her! I will have your queen, and she
will suffer!"
Pitrick sprang forward, his powerful hands locking
around the throat of the squirming Aghar. The derro guards
nervously watched as the berserk savant vented his rage
against the hapless prisoner.
Pitrick shook the Aghar like a rag doll, and then threw
the wailing dwarf aside. His hand grasped the medallion at
his chest, his other rose to point an accusing finger at the
gully dwarf.
A bolt of magical energy crackled from Pitrick's finger. It
sparked through the air and struck the gully dwarf in the
chest. The Aghar screamed and flopped over backward.
Again and again, the magic hissed, sending forth crackling
missiles that struck the little body with brute force
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