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. Flint released the
mayor, who muttered some sort of apology as he skulked
back to his digging.
"You really came through," said Flint. "I'm proud of you,
pup." He gestured at the wide earthwork, the bustling
dwarves extending it to either side.
"We've gathered some weapons, too," said Basalt, his
pride obvious in his voice. "A couple hundred, anyway -
enough for half the town."
"You mean four hundred hill dwarves are willing to fight
for this old town?" Flint said, honestly surprised.
"Yup!" Basalt was clearly proud of his kinsmen, and Flint
enjoyed the change in his nephew. "And even the ones who
can't fight are busy sewing leather right now. They're mak-
ing padded leather breastplates for as many of us as they
can."
"Excellent," Flint pronounced. "But what'll they do when
the fighting starts?"
"We've got provisions stored in some caves, up in the
hills. At first sign of the mountain dwarves, the old folks
and youngsters will head out of town," Basalt explained.
Tybalt, Ruberik, and Bertina joined them, together with
an attractive young dwarf maid whom Flint recognized as
Hildy, the daughter of the town's brewer
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