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. He felt as though he never wanted to leave, to do
anything again.
But as the chaos of the battle grew to a crescendo, his pain
slowly changed, burning its way from his heart to his soul.
And as it moved, his mourning became anger, developing
into a hot, blazing rage that at last compelled him to return
to the fight, and to kill those who had slain Perian.
The gates of the brewery splintered open, and even from
within the building Flint sensed the urgency of the fight. He
reached for the axe Perian had returned to him back in Mud-
hole, cursing with surprise as the weapon's haft burned his
hand. The white glow of the Tharkan Axe had become
tinged with red, as the metal itself heated like an iron bar in
a smith's forge.
Without thinking, Flint looked around the storeroom,
quickly spotting a pair of leather gauntlets. He drew these
over his hands, and then picked up the gleaming weapon.
Its razor sharp blade gleamed clean, ready to drink again.
Flint charged the door of the storeroom and threw it
open, looking upon a scene of mass confusion in the court-
yard
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