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. The hunter
had gotten only two gold for that scalp, which infuriated
him to this day. He wouldn't be cheated this time, or the fat
priest in Aldhaven who paid out the bounties would get a
little lesson in the consequences of not keeping his word to
honest men.
The hunter rounded the ridge, arms tensing for the
throw or the thrust, and there was the kender - down. The
unlucky little guy had fallen over a log in an old creek bed
covered with dead leaves, and he was trying to get up but
was crying out because he'd hurt his leg. It wouldn't hurt
much longer, the man thought, and he lifted his spear to run
it through the willowy kender's rib cage. The human was so
close he could see the kender's wide brown eyes. The
kender put up his hands to ward off the blow, but thin
palms had never stopped a spear.
A thing like a red-and-black spider leaped out of the
bushes on the low creek bank to the hunter's right. In a red
fist it held a steel machete that swung down too fast to see
or block. Pain jolted the hunter's body from his right thigh
where the blade hacked its way through trousers and skin
and muscles, biting into the hard bone. Blind with agony,
the hunter went down. The spear jammed into the dirt and
fell from his grasp, landing behind him
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