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. Flecks of
spit drooled, unnoticed, from his lips as he raved. Her es-
cape only served to inflame him further. Through the smoke
of the lightning bolt he'd cast, he had seen that she was
mightily wounded. Despite this knowledge, Pitrick could
think only of total, mindless destruction.
"Excellency, please!" pleaded one of his battle-weary ser-
geants. The leader of the derro looked up at him, smoke and
grime smeared across the white skin of his face. His bristling
beard and hair had many scorched patches, singed during
the battle.
"The hill dwarves have gathered in one large building -
they have not gotten away!" The warrior spoke quickly,
fearful of his commander's wrath. "They are trapped there,
waiting for us to draw tight the noose!"
Pitrick dropped his fist, a thin smile creasing his gro-
tesque face. "Trapped? All of them?"
"All that we could see, sir. It's a stout building, with a
heavy gate. But I think we can bash it down."
"Good. Very good." The hunchback abruptly sat down on
the street, thinking. His face lightened still further as an idea
occurred to him
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