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"Dunk them in the stream!" Perian cried from behind
Flint. She had been back by the tunnel when she heard the
gully dwarves' screams. Running up to the group now, she
propelled two of the injured gully dwarves over to the left
and into the gently flowing stream. She held their collars
while they flailed in the water, washing away the mysteri-
ous black substance. Finally their wails slowed to sobs. Per-
ian hauled them out and was happy to see that the affected
skin was shiny pink but otherwise unharmed.
Seeing her success, Flint shoved the other two Aghar in,
and soon their symptoms were relieved as well. Teeth chat-
tering, the soaked Aghar clustered around their king, look-
ing like drowned rats.
"Someone had better tell me what's going on here!" Flint
demanded of the group. "Nomscul?"
Nomscul's wispy mustache twitched above his lips. "I use
my magic bag to stop yelling, but it not work! It always
work before!" Nomscul's eyes narrowed, shifting the bags
underneath them. "You put curse on it, O kingly guy?"
Flint scowled. "Of course it doesn't work - it's just a bag
of dir -" He sighed and gathered his patience about him like
a cloak
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