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.
And from the look of things, he thought, hunching around
so that he could see, it wouldn't take much.
The thief's dark eyes were only narrow slits now. His
teeth, gleaming white in the light from the fire, were bared
in a snarl. He threw the kender down at the goblin's feet.
The snarl turned to a grin the moment Staag began to cut
the pouches from Tas's belt and the kender raised his
protests.
Keli didn't understand the kender. What seemed a
matter of soul-wrenching pain only a short time ago - his
bound wrists and knees and feet - was as nothing now
compared with the rifling of his pouches, the throwing away
of what he called his treasures.
"A line of wicking," Staag grumbled, "a gray feather,
two chipped arrowheads, a bundle of fletching - junk!
Nothing but junk!" He pawed through first one pouch, then
another. Tas's fury only amused him.
A gold earring he kept, stuffing it into his own belt pouch
along with a ring set with polished quartz and a small
enameled pin. The rest, an assortment of things that could
not have been of value to any but a kender, he kicked aside.
Tigo, like some thin, black vulture, leaned over Tas.
"Just where are you taking us, kender?" he demanded
suspiciously
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