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. With supreme
willpower he held his tongue, fearing that once he began to
scream, he would never be able to stop. Slowly, with great
deliberation, he dragged himself out of the pool. He pulled
the hem of his tunic out of his pants and wrung the water
from it, only to find his clothing already freezing.
"This is going to be a long campaign, even if it's over this
afternoon," he groaned to Perian, who was dabbing at his
face and soaked clothing with one of the rag bandages from
a supply pack.
Slowly, after more frolicking and splashing, the Aghar
hauled themselves from the pool and finally stood, dripping
and shivering. "We've got to get them moving before they
freeze to death," Perian urged, trying vainly to dry their
heads.
The deep snow encouraged the Aghar to remain in file.
Flint and Perian took turns forcing a trail through the soft
powder. When they became exhausted from the grueling
task, some of the more trustworthy gully dwarves rotated
the duty, though their trails tended to zigzag more often
than not. Throughout the long afternoon the file of Aghar
waded through the snow, skirting the highest elevations
along the route Flint judged the most likely shortcut to the
Passroad
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