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The goblin remembered now the minotaur's roar as it had
leapt upon the blade, its full weight smashing into the
goblin's face and chest. Then the awful gurgling howl as it
arose and tried to breathe with a shaft of steel through its
lung and heart.
The goblin eased himself back down, fighting the dull
pain that came from his chest. I should be happy, he
thought. I killed a minotaur. But I feel so tired. It isn't
worth it to move. I just want to ... Oh. The -
"Sword," whispered the goblin. He tried to reach
toward the dead minotaur. "Sword."
The kender wiped his eyes and leaned closer. "What?"
"Sword," said the goblin. He tried to reach for it.
Things seemed to get dark and that frightened him, but his
hand caught the kender's hand, and he felt less afraid.
Stupid kender, he thought, and the world slowly drifted
away.
*****
One of the wagons carried shovels. It took the rest of the
day, with intermittent droplets of rain falling all around, for
the kender to dig a pit large enough to bury his three
friends. The goblin had asked for the sword, so the kender
carefully cleaned it after removing it from the minotaur's
chest, never touching the blade
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