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A sublime sense of heightened awareness possessed Flint
as he turned to parry a blow from his first attacker, then sent
the second derro reeling back with a series of sharp blows.
Hacking viciously, he knocked the fellow's weapon to the
ground just as the other one leaped back toward him.
Whirling away, Flint raised his own axe in a sharp parry.
The two blades clashed together, but the hill dwarf stared in
dismay as the haft of his axe cracked, carrying the head to
the ground. Suddenly Flint was holding only the haft of his
battle-axe. He stood there, defenseless, as if naked.
The second guard's pale, blue-tinged face split into a gro-
tesque grin at Flint's predicament. A sinister light entered his
eyes as he raised his axe, ready to crush the hill dwarf's skull.
Flint moved with all the quickness his years of battle expe-
rience could muster. He thrust the axe handle forward, us-
ing it to stab like a sword. The splintered ends of wood
struck the derro's nose, and the Theiwar dwarf cried out in
agony, blinking away blood.
Flint struck again, smashing the wooden stick over the
derro's knuckles, which gripped his axe
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