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. The other men must be down the slope with the
horses and wagons, if they were still alive - which the
goblin doubted very much.
The kender was due. The goblin had to get there first,
to look for the sword. He took the time to squint against the
firelight and search the clearing for any sign of a box or
crate that might contain a sword. There was only one pile
of belongings and supplies, and that was on the edge of the
clearing, about two-thirds of the way around to the left. He
couldn't make out what was in the pile very well; the fire
interfered with his night vision. His only hope was that the
captain had thought the sword valuable enough to bring it
into the camp to prevent its being stolen.
The goblin carefully moved back from the light and
began making his way around the camp's edge toward the
left side. He tried not to think of the possibility that the elf,
the minotaur, or even the kender would find the Sword of
Change first. He had dreamed about the sword so much in
the last two days that he couldn't imagine not having it.
There was so much to gain, and he deserved it so badly.
The wish would pay for a lifetime of loneliness,
deprivation, and brutality. It would set him above all
worries ever again
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