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"Back!" ordered Flint. "Back to the wall!"
The order was unnecessary because the defenders of
Hillhome were being forced back to the breastwork through
no choice of their own. Soon, as the mountain dwarves
pushed their renewed attack, it was all Flint could do to pre-
vent their fallback from becoming a rout.
The hill dwarves desperately scrambled back up the wall
and into their redoubt, but the mountain dwarves followed
their advantage aggressively.
"Hold at the top!" shouted Flint, turning and bashing one
more of the mountain dwarves. Once again his axe crushed
metal armor, killing the foe without penetrating the rigid
barrier of his steel plate. His victim tumbled back down the
breastwork, knocking two of his fellows over as he fell. Flint
noticed that the still-glowing Tharkan Axe was growing un-
comfortably warm to the touch, and the blood of his ene-
mies now sizzled on its blade.
Along the crest of the wall, Tybalt and other hill dwarves
stopped their retreat. Gasping and panting from the exer-
tion of the combat, the defenders nevertheless stood firm.
The Theiwar, exhausted from their long charge, still dis-
organized by the disruptive attack, suddenly fell back from
the wall to catch their breath and regroup
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