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Beyond a shoulder of stone, he skidded to a stop. A female
gully dwarf lay there, staring up at him in horror. "Krog?"
she said.
Her voice - the remembered voice and the remembered
face of the little creature - made him hesitate, and his
hesitation angered him. For an instant he felt . . . soft. "Shut
up!" he thundered. "I am Krog! Krog ogre!"
She blinked, and a tear glistened in her eye. "Krog... not
want Mama anymore?"
"I am ogre!" he roared. "You . . . nothing to me!"
Furious, he raised his club high, then hesitated as another
small figure darted out of a shadowed cleft to face him, a
little gully dwarf male with curly whiskers, the one they
called Highbulp. The gully dwarf faced him with terror in
its eyes and an elk tine in its hand, and again Krog
hesitated.
The absurd little thing was challenging him! A snarl
tugged at Krog's cheek, but still he hesitated, looking from
one to the other of the puny creatures. They meant nothing
to him, nothing at all, and yet, there was something about
the pair . . .
For a moment Krog stood, his dub lifted high to strike,
then he shook his head and lowered it. Wrinkling his nose
in disgust - mostly at himself - he turned and stalked away.
Behind him, the Highbulp Gorge III lifted the Lady
Drule to her feet with trembling hands. They clung together,
staring at the monster's receding back.
"'Bye, Krog," Drule whispered.
THE COBBLER'S SON
ROGER E. MOORE
The Authentic Field Reports of Walnut Arskin
To Astinus of Palanthas,
As Set Down by Me, Walnut,
Foster Son of Jeraim Arskin,
Famed Amanuensis, Scribe of Astinus,
and Licensed Cobbler
(Open All Week Long)
Newshore-Near-Gwynned, North Island, Ergoth
Report Number One
Year 22, New Reckoning
Spring day 12 or maybe 13 (I forget), dawn
Hi, Astinus! It's just after dawn and I'm now your
newest field recorder, and I'm making my very first official
field report to you on official Palanthas paper with my
brand-new steel pen while wearing my once-holy symbol of
Gilean and my official gray recorder's robes and my best
walking boots
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