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. This boy, alone, beneath the frosted, snow-swept
ground, could pardon a god for his mistake, though that one
mistake had destroyed everything Gylar had held dear.
Marakion adjusted the clasp at the neck of his cloak and
pulled the edges together. He took a last look at the sky
from the summit of Mount Phineous.
"Somebody learned something from your show of godly
power. HE forgives you."
Marakion slowly began his descent down the mountain,
continuing on his own hopeless quest.
"Revel in it, Paladine, because, by the Abyss, I don't."
NO GODS, NO HEROES
NICK O'DONOHOE
The road was blocked just over the crest of the hill. The ambush was
nicely planned. Graym, leading the horses, hadn't seen the warriors
until his group was headed downhill, and there was no room to turn the
cart around on the narrow, wheel-rutted path that served as a road.
Graym looked at their scarred faces, their battered, mis-
matched, scavenged armor, and their swords. He smiled at
them. "You lot are good thinkers, I can tell. You can't
protect yourselves too well these days." He gestured at the
cart and its cargo. "Would you like a drink of ale?"
The armored man looked them over carefully. Graym
said, "I'll do the honors, sir. That skinny, gawking teenager
- that's Jarek. The man behind him, in manacles and a chain,
is our prisoner, name of Darll. Behind him - those two
fierce-looking ones, are Fenris and Fanris, the Wolf
brothers
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