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. I'll not see my
friends die in my arms for that again, bleeding away and
me not able to stop it because all my spells were gone to
others wounded earlier." The cleric's eyes were like
dancing black flames.
The cleric reached up, patted the other man on the
back. "I like you, boy. You remind me of the way I was,
before the war in the mountains. I wish you could always
be like that. I really do. You're a lot happier for it."
The leather-armored man coughed and dared a weak
smile. The cleric smiled back at him. The leather-armored
man reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Something moved across his feet and crawled up his legs.
The man jumped when he felt it. Something had him
by the feet, and he lost his balance and fell over, dropping
his spear. The cleric began struggling and slapping madly
at his thighs. He was seeing tall grass and vines and roots
and briars and saplings knot themselves around his calves
like iron chains. The two men opened their mouths to shout
or scream. No cries sounded. Instead, the crickets chirped
more loudly, the wind blew harder, night birds called. The
men on the hill by the fire went on about their business.
The goblin came swiftly out of the darkness
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