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. He was small, but no child;
the cant of his ears as well as his slim build and small
stature marked him as a kender. Several pouches of varying
sizes and materials bounced at the kender's belt each time
Staag shook him. And Staag, that slope-shouldered, gray-
skinned nightmare, shook him often and hard simply
because it amused him to do so.
The kender, a game little fellow, hitched up his knees
and drove them into the goblin's belly. Had a mouse
attacked a mountain the result would have been the same.
Laughing, Staag loosed his grip on the kender's neck and
dropped him.
The kender writhed against his bonds. "Swamp-
breathed, slime-brained bull," he croaked.
Keli's heart sank. So much for the kender, he thought.
Staag's going to kill him now!
But the goblin didn't. Tigo stopped him with a
command.
If Staag, his arms too long, his legs too short, his skin
the color of something a week dead, was the nightmare, his
human companion Tigo was reality gone twisted. Tall and
lean, bony-shouldered, with limbs that might have been
stolen from a scarecrow, Tigo bore a four-pronged grapnel
where his right hand should have been. His eyes, muddy
and brown, held little sanity in them
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