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She turned to look at Huma, a huge man with a big,
flaming mustache and long/black hair that brushed his
shoulders. He wore armor of silver, a helmet with a plume
of crimson on his head, and he held the dragonlance that
was nearly twelve feet long. The barbed tip was of pure
silver, and the shaft was of polished wood. It was a special
weapon, forged by the dwarves with the Hammer of Kharas.
The weapon that could destroy the Queen and her army -
maybe the only weapon in the whole world that could do
the job.
Huma stepped to his right and touched the woman's
shoulder, as if assuring himself that she was real flesh and
blood and not a mirage created by the enemy. She reached
up and took his hand in hers, turning her face, framed by
her silver hair, so that she could smile at him.
"We have her trapped now," said the woman, her voice
quiet, almost soothing.
"Yes," Huma agreed. "There is nowhere for the Dark
Queen to go now. Still . . ." He didn't finish the sentence,
feeling an anxiety that he couldn't place. It was almost as if
evil were radiating from the obelisk ... as if the Dark Queen
had led them to the spot to be destroyed.
"It will soon be over," she said, quietly, as if speaking
to herself
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