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Dragonlance -- Dan Parkinson - The Gates Of Thorbardin
Atec Март 01 2008 15:03:31
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She approached the pair and pointed at the nearest
one. "You, go and tell the marshals to form here and
await orders."
The huge creature stared at her with cruel, close-set
eyes -- eyes that were above her own even though the
ogre was squatting on its heels. It yawned, baring great
slabs of yellow teeth, and looked away.
Raising her faceplate Kolanda stepped closer and
barked, "You heard me? Do as I say!"
The two ogres grinned at each other, then the one she
had addressed spat on the ground. "Don't feel like it," it
rumbled. "Do it yourself."
With rising fury in her eyes, Kolanda Darkmoor drew
her sword and swatted the ogre across the face with the
flat of her blade. "Obey me!" she hissed.
The grin disappeared from the huge, leering face. The
ogre stood, rubbing its cheek with a hand that was eight-
een inches across. It towered over the woman. "Puny hu-
man," it rumbled. "Go too far. Maybe I squash you
where you are."
Kolanda reached to her throat and drew a leather
thong from beneath the lacquered metal of her breast-
plate. At its end dangled a black, misshapen thing that
resembled a shriveled pear. "Caliban," she said.
A rush of heat sprang from the thing, a tangible force
that made the air around it sizzle. Fire shot from it and
struck the ogre in the chest. The creature was thrown
backward a dozen yards. It tumbled, rolled, and
sprawled, then lay still. Vile smoke curled upward from
its midsection, and dead eyes stared at the sky
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