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"We still have troubles," Perian barked urgently. "Look!"
Flint turned to see that the massive carrion crawler had
reached the exit to the Thrown Room. He could trace the
creature's path across the cavern by counting the fallen
bodies of Aghar. Dozens lay in a twisted line across the ca-
vern floor.
He heard Nomscul's voice, issuing orders.
"Hey, Agharpulters! Do it do it do it! Agharpult! Stomp
that big ugly thing! Pult pult pult!"
Teams of gully dwarves were gathering before the beast.
The Aghar formed their pyramids and launched themselves
at the carrion crawler, heedless of the danger, What they
hoped to accomplish was unclear. But the carrion crawler
was clearly distracted by the spectacle of their bodies flying
over its head and crashing into the walls behind.
Flint ran through the cavern, frantically encouraging the
Agharpulters. If they could distract the beast long enough,
he could....
What could he do? He looked at the roasting fork in his
hand, and then at the looming carrion crawler, and tossed
the fork aside. At the same time, his eyes passed over the
roasting meat, still sizzling on its steel-shafted spear
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