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. Even where there were no trees, there seemed to be
shadows, and the grass itself seemed tainted with death.
The stag nodded. "Here." His voice was rasping, half
choked.
As the draconians arrived in the clearing, he half-fell off
the trail and sank down on the grass a few lengths away.
A draconian saw him and called, "Captain."
The lead draconian shouted in triumph and leaped off
the trail. The others followed.
The draconian cried, "Pride of kill belongs to Captain
Zerkaz."
The stag reared up. "Pride, it seems, is universal,
Captain. So is kill."
He punched forward with a hoof. Zerkaz had time to
screech with pain before his heart ruptured and his body
turned to stone. It wavered once, but remained standing.
While the soldiers gaped, the stag charged another,
head lowered.
He had forgotten that he had but a single horn, not
antlers. As he pierced the draconian, the dying soldier
brought his sword down as hard as he could at close
quarters. The horn cracked all the way into the stag's skull.
He staggered back with closed eyes, barely noticing as
the second soldier turned to stone. A third, sword out, was
facing him, but the others had closed behind him and stood
almost touching each other, staring into the field
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