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. Within moments they were back on their feet,
choking with rage and scanning the yard for their prey.
With a yell, one of them spotted him and the pack was on
the attack again.
But this time, as they reached the halfway point to Ba-
salt's position, one of them paused momentarily. A dagger
flashed in his hand and then, with a ringing "thunk," embed-
ded itself in the stable wall inches from Basalt's left shoulder.
Immediately the others followed suit, and another dagger
and two hatchets flew toward the hapless hill dwarf. A split-
second later they pierced the wooden wall, dead on target,
but their target was not there. Seeing the danger, Basalt had
grasped the ring and teleported himself next to the forge,
back to where he had first landed in the wagon yard.
Basalt realized he was shaking and paused a moment to
catch his breath before turning and sprinting toward the
wagons. He had taken only a few steps when the derro,
bloodlust showing in their oversized eyes, careened around
both sides of the stable. Basalt raced scant yards ahead of
them directly between the wagons
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