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. He knew
what must have happened. He knew the elf knew, too.
The elf groaned and again tried to get up, but he was
very weak and fell back limply. Sweat beaded up on his
forehead. His breathing became labored, but soon evened
out as he fell unconscious and slept.
For several minutes, the goblin sat by the elf in silence.
Instinct confirmed that the sword had to be magical. An elf,
especially one who was a wizard, would not waste time
worrying about a simple weapon. What could the sword do,
though? Magical weapons were capable of doing anything,
the goblin had heard. Some were said to hurl lightning,
others to bum like torches, still others to cut through stone.
The goblin had never before dreamed he would have the
chance to get a magical sword of his own. He was certainly
thinking about it now.
"How is he?" asked the kender as he came in with the
full water bucket. "Is he still alive? Did he say anything?"
The goblin snorted and got up, dusting off his hands.
"Still alive. Not say much, need sleep. Maybe all right
soon." He looked down at the sleeping figure. "Not bad elf.
Maybe we get along, eh? First time for everything."
*****
"Running no good," the goblin observed the following
morning
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