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. "Tell me what I wish to know.
This will end."
The man stared in disbelief. Marakion was barely winded.
The man gulped another breath and answered frantically, "I
told you! I never heard of no 'Knight-killer Marauders!'"
Marakion hovered over the thief, his eyes black and
impenetrable, his lip twitching, barely holding his rage in
check. The bare blade of his sword glimmered dully.
"Knightsbane Marauders," he rumbled in a low voice. The
scruffy man quivered under the smoldering anger. "You are
a brigand, just like them. You must know of them. Tell me
where they are."
"I told you!" The thief cringed against the tree. "I don't
know!"
In brutal silence, Marakion let loose his pent up rage.
One instant his sword, Glint, was at his side, and the next,
the flat of it smashed into the man's neck. The thief was so
surprised by the attack that he barely had time to blink. The
strike sent him reeling. Two more clubbing strokes dropped
him to the frosty earth, unconscious.
"Then you live," Marakion said, breathing a bit harder.
Leaning down, he searched the body thoroughly for the
insignia that gave his life burning purpose.
There was none to be found.
Furiously disappointed, he left the useless thug where
he lay and headed for the road.
The town that had been his destination before the small
band of ruffians had attacked him lay ahead. He had
searched all of the towns and outlying areas east of here,
only to come up empty-handed, forever empty-handed. But
this desolate area showed promise
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