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.
The two clasp hands awkwardly. The sun sinks,
casting mountain shadows across the human camp in the
valley. Multitudes of fires blink in the darkness, and
drunken revelry begins. To the humans, it was a "victory"
"They are your mountains now," adds the dwarf,
turning to join his people. "Care for them well."
"We shall do our best," Gobasch replies.
*****
I hear a noise at the door, Your Grace. It is my host,
returning with his mysterious burden. I see - he brings me
the skull of the messenger, this lone courier who brought
the secrets of the dwarves into this remote range before the
Cataclysm! My historian's heart thrills for their brave hero,
perishing so that his words could be read in a future age.
Who is this brave soul? Why did he strike out, alone, to
carry the tale of history?
Imagine my shock, Excellency, when the cheesemaker
holds out the whitewashed skull, the remains of this
courageous figure. For the skull belongs to an ogre! From
the jaws jut three yellowed, but clearly recognizable, tusks.
As always, Excellency, I seek the truth in your name;
Your Humble and Devoted Servant,
FORYTH TEEL, Scribe of Astinus
Filling The Empty Places
Nancy Varian Berberick
The minotaur fell to his knees on the cracked, filthy
cobbles of Beggar's Alley
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