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. His beard and hair were as stringy
as a gully dwarf's.
"Basalt!" Flint cried, rushing forward to cut the length of
twine that tied the young Fireforge like a dog to the lime-
stone pillar. Nomscul bent over and began gnawing at a
piece of twine on Basalt's wrist. "Not that way! Oh, never
mind!" Flint slit the bonds himself.
The delirious Basalt dropped onto his face. Perian rushed
to the pool, scooped some water up in her cupped hands,
and splashed it on the young dwarf's puffy cheeks, causing
the dirt to turn to muddy streaks.
Basalt slowly came around, shaking his head and spray-
ing water. He rubbed his arms as his senses returned with the
flow of his blood. Using the stalagtite for support, Basalt
staggered to his feet and blinked furiously. His eyes focused
first on the hill dwarf's expectant face.
"Uncle Flint?" He squinted. "But you're dead!"
Flint feigned annoyance. "First Garth, and now you! I
wish people would stop saying that!" Laughing, he tried to
gather his nephew up in a hug, though Basalt's bonds made
that difficult. "You look like you've been dragged behind a
wild horse, son, but you sure are a sight for my sore eyes
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