fellow you'd
like to have at your back in a fight. jhatli looked at daggrande in surprise.
obviously the characterization
of' the brawny figher as a lad struck him as somewhat unusual. still, he hadn't previously appreciated how far back the
paths of' the two legionnaires were linked. there was something paternal in the way the gruff dwarf spoke of his
human companion. ‘course, i never told him that, continued daggrande, his tone angry, the big lunk wouldn't have
understood! daggrande looked at the group around the fire, as if he expected someone to challenge him. what're you
starin’ it? he growled at coton as the cleric eyed him curiously. the priest made no answer, and daggrande sat down
with a sigh. i don't know what's got into me! surely they're all right somewhere. they've got to be! he couldn't allow
himself to think of any other alternate c maybe they just wanted some time by themselves, guessed the youth. still, a
look at the darkening jungle around them dispelled this suggestion even as he made it the forest at night did not
create a very romantic environment. should we search for them? asked the chieftain of the desert dwarves. yes but
not now, came daggrande's response. we’ll only get more of us lost in the jangle, and we can't hope to find anything until
morning. they could be back before then, in any event, lotil offered, though the blind man’s tone suggested that he
shared the dwarven captain's concern. at first light, then, said luskag. if' they haven't returned, we shall commence the
search. }} * * * * hoxitl stirred in his stench-filled lair, which had once been the grand temple of zaltec in nexal. now
ruined stone walls leaned and tilted around him. where once a proud archway had created the entrance, now a slimy
tunnel cut through the piles of rubble. beyond the lair, the monsters of the viperhand prowled restlessly through the
ruins of the city gangs of orcs snarled and fought with each other, only to scatter, howling, at the approach of looming
ogres. after the long march across the desert, the creatures had returned to their city with crude pleasure. yet now,
after many weeks of en-forced idleness in the brackish ruins, the pleasure turned to boredom. the beasts, hoxitl knew,
needed activity. he himself had succumbed to a lethargic passivity that had verged on the comatose. for a time, he lay
unknowing his mind vacant, awaiting the command and the vitality of his god. the towering statue of zaltec, near his
lair, stood impassive and unmoving as the weeks became months. finally, not knowing why, the monster hoxitl raised
himself from lethargy into stiff, unpleasant movement. gradually a command took shape in the cleric-beast’s mind, an
image of a destination and a growing compulsion to again put his beastly force into motion. at the end of this march,
he sensed, there would be killing, and hearts to feed the god, and final, ultimate victory over the humankind of maztica.
hoxitl emerged from his cavelike lair and raised his voice in a high, ululating howl. the sound echoed from the great
mountains around the valley, rolling across the muddy, swamp-like stretches that had once been lakes. among the
ruined streets and cesspools, the ores looked up from their bickering. the cry called forth other ores and ogres and
trolls from slumber or feeding. all took up their weapons and responded. slowly, by ones and twos, then by dozens and
scores and hundreds, the beasts of the viperhand moved to their master's call. they gathered across the sprawling
chaos of the great plaza, perching on ruined temples, clustering in the few flat expanses of the stonework, all of them
turning their beastly faces toward the great stone monolith that was their power and their glory. creatures! my
children! hoxitl bellowed in his grotesque language, and the creatures listened attentively. zaltec calls us, and we must
obey! again we shall march so that all maztica will know the terror of our presence! his creatures responded with dull
roars of anticipation. the long days of inactiuity weighed heavily upon them, and now they stood, once again ready for
war. * * * * * chief tabub, we bring two of the big people as prisoners, explained the little man, who was called
kashta, after placing his bow and arrows the tips of the deadly missiles wiped clean of their kurari poison beside the
door to the chief's low hut kashta carried halloran’s sword with him into the hut. the weapon was as long as the
warrior himself. it is as i dreamed, as the lord of the jaguars told me in my sleep, said tabub in a low monotone. the
chief sat cross-legged, flanked by two of his wives. a man and a woman … she carries a child? indeed, whispered kashta,
of' the brawny figher as a lad struck him as somewhat unusual. still, he hadn't previously appreciated how far back the
paths of' the two legionnaires were linked. there was something paternal in the way the gruff dwarf spoke of his
human companion. ‘course, i never told him that, continued daggrande, his tone angry, the big lunk wouldn't have
understood! daggrande looked at the group around the fire, as if he expected someone to challenge him. what're you
starin’ it? he growled at coton as the cleric eyed him curiously. the priest made no answer, and daggrande sat down
with a sigh. i don't know what's got into me! surely they're all right somewhere. they've got to be! he couldn't allow
himself to think of any other alternate c maybe they just wanted some time by themselves, guessed the youth. still, a
look at the darkening jungle around them dispelled this suggestion even as he made it the forest at night did not
create a very romantic environment. should we search for them? asked the chieftain of the desert dwarves. yes but
not now, came daggrande's response. we’ll only get more of us lost in the jangle, and we can't hope to find anything until
morning. they could be back before then, in any event, lotil offered, though the blind man’s tone suggested that he
shared the dwarven captain's concern. at first light, then, said luskag. if' they haven't returned, we shall commence the
search. }} * * * * hoxitl stirred in his stench-filled lair, which had once been the grand temple of zaltec in nexal. now
ruined stone walls leaned and tilted around him. where once a proud archway had created the entrance, now a slimy
tunnel cut through the piles of rubble. beyond the lair, the monsters of the viperhand prowled restlessly through the
ruins of the city gangs of orcs snarled and fought with each other, only to scatter, howling, at the approach of looming
ogres. after the long march across the desert, the creatures had returned to their city with crude pleasure. yet now,
after many weeks of en-forced idleness in the brackish ruins, the pleasure turned to boredom. the beasts, hoxitl knew,
needed activity. he himself had succumbed to a lethargic passivity that had verged on the comatose. for a time, he lay
unknowing his mind vacant, awaiting the command and the vitality of his god. the towering statue of zaltec, near his
lair, stood impassive and unmoving as the weeks became months. finally, not knowing why, the monster hoxitl raised
himself from lethargy into stiff, unpleasant movement. gradually a command took shape in the cleric-beast’s mind, an
image of a destination and a growing compulsion to again put his beastly force into motion. at the end of this march,
he sensed, there would be killing, and hearts to feed the god, and final, ultimate victory over the humankind of maztica.
hoxitl emerged from his cavelike lair and raised his voice in a high, ululating howl. the sound echoed from the great
mountains around the valley, rolling across the muddy, swamp-like stretches that had once been lakes. among the
ruined streets and cesspools, the ores looked up from their bickering. the cry called forth other ores and ogres and
trolls from slumber or feeding. all took up their weapons and responded. slowly, by ones and twos, then by dozens and
scores and hundreds, the beasts of the viperhand moved to their master's call. they gathered across the sprawling
chaos of the great plaza, perching on ruined temples, clustering in the few flat expanses of the stonework, all of them
turning their beastly faces toward the great stone monolith that was their power and their glory. creatures! my
children! hoxitl bellowed in his grotesque language, and the creatures listened attentively. zaltec calls us, and we must
obey! again we shall march so that all maztica will know the terror of our presence! his creatures responded with dull
roars of anticipation. the long days of inactiuity weighed heavily upon them, and now they stood, once again ready for
war. * * * * * chief tabub, we bring two of the big people as prisoners, explained the little man, who was called
kashta, after placing his bow and arrows the tips of the deadly missiles wiped clean of their kurari poison beside the
door to the chief's low hut kashta carried halloran’s sword with him into the hut. the weapon was as long as the
warrior himself. it is as i dreamed, as the lord of the jaguars told me in my sleep, said tabub in a low monotone. the
chief sat cross-legged, flanked by two of his wives. a man and a woman … she carries a child? indeed, whispered kashta,
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